Ryker gulped and nodded.
Johan and Jonvar clasped hands quickly, and then Jonvar turned on his heel and marched away. Ryker and Johan exchanged nervous looks, steeled themselves, and pushed the large doors open. A bright light momentarily blinded them as they entered the Akvan’s chamber, and they shielded their eyes. Both of them felt a rush of awe and fear.
Once they had adjusted, they looked around the room. The bright light was nothing extraordinary. Light from the setting sun had hit the plate glass windows at just the right angle to illuminate the white marble of the chamber. The effect was rather stunning, even if it did leave the duo somewhat disappointed.
As they took a few cautious steps forward, they saw a long table in the center of the room. Seated there, surrounded by ancient stacks of parchment and paper sat the black-armored figure of the Akvan. Seeing this legendary figure of fear in person, sitting down at a table reading, was almost more than they could process. They stood there uncertain as the Akvan continued to read silently.
“Lord Akvan?” Johan ventured, fighting to keep his voice steady. “I am Commander Johan Else, and this is my Subcommander, Ryker Draygos. You summoned us?”
At this, the Akvan looked over at the two men and slowly rose to his feet. The heavy clinking sound of metal from the Akvan’s shifting plate armor reminded Ryker of a siege tower, trundling along a battlefield. He halted a few feet from them and his gaze held Johan.
“Yes. I did indeed summon you,” the words rumbled through the Akvan’s helmet. Then he turned to focus on Ryker. “However, I did not summon you.”
It was all Ryker could do not to turn and bolt for the door. The foremost figure of torment from his childhood was there, completely real, telling him he was not welcome.
“No matter,” the Akvan continued dismissively, “this concerns you as well. Commander Else, I believe that I am not the first to inform you that the command echelon of The City’s military has been compromised in some fashion. The details of your assignment were not terribly difficult to find by certain parties.”
Johan narrowed his eyes.
“Just what do you mean?”
“Three Outrider units were dispatched for the same objective. A clever test of loyalty by your Praetorian. Only one unit was intentionally given the complete scope of the assignment. However, the other two units were informed of the nature of the assignment and moved to act. Your unit was the only one to remain loyal. Indeed, you were the only unit to survive. An impressive feat.”
“Thank you, Lord,” Johan said. “However, you have yet to say anything that I have not worked out for myself.”
“Then let me illuminate you. There were four parties involved in this game, moving the pieces. Let us begin with the Outrider units. The first Outrider unit, Samnusen, had been compromised, as I believe you witnessed. He has been in the employ of Melcara for years now. His very body has been warped and twisted by the arts employed by the Melcaran Cult. No doubt his masters had tasked him with recovering the stolen artifact and returning it to them. The second group of Outriders, Kinnese’s unit, had also been subverted. But by whom and for what ends has not yet been made clear to me. That makes his masters highly dangerous. While I suspect Samnusen was drawn to the artifact itself, Kinnese would have needed traditional intelligence to accomplish his mission. Obviously, treason within your ranks is more widespread than I had anticipated. The fact that your Praetorian felt it necessary to deceive you is troubling.”
Johan and Ryker were stunned. To have such information thrown at them, and by so sinister a figure, took a moment to register.
“How could you know this?” Ryker demanded, despite himself.
Putting a calming hand on his friend’s shoulder, Johan looked to the Akvan.
“What do you mean our Praetorian deceived us?”
“He knew that Kinnese and Samnusen were rogue, Commander. That is why he sent the Weaver with you. Despite what he told you, his true motivation in dispatching you was to eliminate the treasonous members of your order. What was stolen from Melcara had no need of a Weaver to transport it, as your Praetorian knew.”
“How would you know what it was we were sent to retrieve?” Johan asked.
“Because I was the one who ordered it stolen, of course. However, I underestimated the rapid response abilities of you Outriders, or else the box would be in my possession right now. But fortune chose to favor you.”
“Why!?” Ryker blurted out suddenly, a new fear brewing within him. “What is so gods damn important about that lockbox? What is in it?!”
“Nothing you would concern yourself with.”
“No offense, Lord Akvan,” Ryker said, unable to stop himself. “But if you want us to trust you in this matter, you need to be honest with us. What is so important about it?”
The Akvan was silent for a long moment. His silence made his presence almost more unbearable. “Very well,” he finally said. “It contains an incredibly rare oil that is highly useful in conducting energies harnessed from Ether streams. The oil is also a highly effective scrying agent attuned to certain Planes. Merely a thimble full is enough for most applications. It was necessary to deprive Melcara of it, as the amount within the lockbox would be able to power many rituals.”
“Why admit this to us?” Johan, despite being in the presence of a demonic terror, was incredulous. “Why tell us you’re attempting to play us all for fools?”
“Silence,” the Akvan snapped, his voice crashing over the two Outriders like a wave. “This is no melodrama, Commander. I do not dictate the actions of mortal fools, like some twisted puppet master. I contracted a reliable means of acquiring an item I wanted, but the venture failed. That is all.”
“But why tell us all of this? It gains you nothing.”
“The enemy of my enemy is my friend, Commander. Melcara is marshalling its forces as we speak. The Regent has expansion on his mind. But the Dominion is not as weak or foolish as he believes. The reason your nobles were summoned was to inform them that they are going to raise a new Legion. The Dominion will, naturally, battle Melcara if it comes to it. And I will back the Dominion. It stands between Melcara and my own nation, after all.”
“No, that isn’t what I meant. I mean, why tell me this, why not the Praetorians?”
“Because of Kinnese. More specifically, what he represents. His unknown masters have a foothold in the Dominion somewhere. You two, and your men, have already proven yourself to be loyalists, and extremely capable ones at that. It does me no favors if the Dominion crumbles from the inside due to intrigue. You must stop that from happening. Find where Kinnese had been, who he had taken orders from. Root out the weeds before they crack the foundation of the city.”
“If you are so concerned,” Ryker asked, “why don’t you go ask him yourself?”
The Akvan hesitated for the briefest of instants.
“What?”
“We were able to take Kinnese prisoner,” Ryker said. “Leonid, our Weaver, placed him in a coma and bound him before he was able to escape.”
“He’s here, within The City?”
“Yeah, he is. He’s currently at the Citadel, waiting to be transferred to the custody of the Judicators. Once they get a hold of him, he won’t have very many secrets left.”
“You fool,” the Akvan said, his words echoing off of the marble. “Have you heard nothing of what I said? His masters are here, within the city. As is the object of their desire. How long do you think he is going to remain bound before he escapes and seizes the box? I ordered it seized as a means of denying it to our enemies. I doubt Kinnese’s masters have the same goals. They, like Melcara, want it for very specific reasons.”
“Then come with us,” Johan said, much to Ryker surprise and horror. “If you want to have answers, we can talk to Kinnese together and get the answers we seek.”
The Akvan slowly shook his head, a grinding metal sound accompanying it.
“I cannot pass much farther than the Halls of Law. The Weavers here have er
ected rather impressive wards within The City, barring me from entering any section other than the Halls of Law and the Skyway. In truth, it would take me little effort to dispel them, but that would evoke a hostile response from the populace, which would be counterintuitive to our plans. No, you two must go and seek out Kinnese. Learn what you can from him, and then eliminate him. He is too much of a threat.”
“You don’t command us,” Johan said, iron suddenly in his voice. “We do not serve you. I’ll take what you said into account, but I will deal with this my own way.”
“Then you are a fool. Death is justice.”
“You say justice but I doubt you even comprehend the word. To men-creatures- like you, death is simply an expedient means to an end. But it is not justice. Sir Aldir knew what justice was. Remember him? Compared to him, you are just a ghoulish butcher.”
Johan locked eyes with the Akvan, and for a horrifying second, Ryker thought the Akvan was going to kill them both. He had a vivid mental image of the Akvan severing their heads with one swift stroke of his obsidian blade. He felt himself bracing for the blow.
But the second passed. The Akvan gestured a dismissal with his hand.
“Go. We will speak further.”
“No,” Johan said as he turned around and headed for the doors, Ryker hurrying after. “We won’t.”
After the heavy doors closed with a thump, the Akvan remained standing for a moment, silent and still as a statue.
“Good,” he rumbled a hint of satisfaction in his unearthly voice. There was a dull crack of sound, and the Akvan disappeared from The City.
“Who are you? This gate is not for just any piker to use. Legion only.”
A Gate Watchman, with twenty other Watchmen behind him peered over his raised crossbow at the ten mounted figures in front of him. One of them, a tall man with a face covered in faded scars, slowly rode forward with a placating gesture.
“No need for such hostility. I’m Commander Samnusen, Outrider Legion,” he showed his sigil and signet ring to the Watchman. “My men and I are on assignment now, and we are in quite a hurry. Could you please provide us directions for Newcomb Square? We need to link up with a fellow Outrider unit as quickly as possible.
Night had finally fallen as Garm pulled the wagon back up to the barracks. As he hopped off with Aleksander, Vegard slowly climbed out of the back and stretched his good arm.
“I am sick of that cursed wagon,” he said mid-stretch. “I’m not a cripple, I just took a shock to the shoulder. I feel fine now.”
“Sure you do,” chided Toma as he dismounted his own horse with Edda.
Edda, for her part, had been watching Alek intently since they had left the barracks earlier. Ever since the mention of the Akvan, Alek had become quiet, almost sullen. As they all walked into the barracks, she walked over to him and kept her voice low.
“Hey big guy, what’s wrong? You didn’t look this down when I tried to knife you.”
Aleksander was looking at nothing particular when she spoke, and he jumped a little when she spoke to him, as if she had splashed water at him. He shook his head slightly and offered a weak smile.
“Ahh, it’s nothing really. Family stuff, you know?”
“No, I don’t, that’s why I’m asking.”
Alek shot her a look before answering.
“It’s nothing too uncommon, honestly. When the Akvan was on one of his little campaigns, my da and I got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. The Akvan’s forces killed him. I was able to get away. It was a long time ago, so don’t worry about me. I’ve gotten over it.”
“If you say so, handsome,” Edda said, obviously unconvinced. “Come on, let’s start lighting lamps. We’ll let these guys rest up a bit.”
Aleksander’s sad smile grew sly.
“How about we start in the cellar, where it’s private? I’m sure there are some flames to stoke down there, metaphorically speaking, of course.”
In response, Edda hit him in the shoulder as the two of them began lighting fires within the barracks. To Alek’s disappointment, it was in a strictly literal sense.
Being given some free time, Garm, Toma, and Vegard were able to find the rooms set up for them by Aleksander days before. Each one of them, finding their beds, flung themselves down on them and were asleep almost instantly. It was only the second time in a week they slept on something softer than the ground. Bathing could wait just a little longer.
Alek busied himself in the kitchen, cooking eggs and bacon on the stove. The smell of actual food roused Toma from his doze, and the two of them were talking together when a quick knock came from the door. Exchanging glances, Alek quickly put the food on a plate and went with Toma to the door. He noticed that Toma had drawn his gladius. Alek opened the small slit in the door with his free hand to see who it was, and then pushed the door open.
Nerthus was standing there, somehow bathed and wearing a fresh outfit, with a nondescript cape draped over her shoulders. She wore long riding gloves on both hands to avoid the attention her artificial left arm would bring. Seeing her there, Toma sighed audibly and sheathed his gladius while Alek waved her in. The look on her face kept him from opening his mouth.
“Where is Johan?” she demanded.
“The Commander is still at the Citadel, far as I know ma’am. Ryker is with him too,” Toma said.
“Shit,” she spat.
“Just put some eggs and bacon on, if you’re interested,” Alek offered, showing her the plate in his hand. He knew she’d say no, but he was in a polite mood for once. He was crestfallen when she accepted the plate and greedily began eating his eggs.
“Where are Garm and Vegard?” she asked, her mouth full.
“Sleeping. Want me to wake them?”
“Yes,” she said as Alek hurried off. She looked at Toma. “We’ve got trouble coming.”
“What is it?”
“Well,” she began, putting the plate down on a nearby table, “some of my people reported that Commander Samnusen and nine other men referred to as ‘Outriders’ just passed through one of the military gates. They were asking for directions to get to Newcomb Square. I’d say our old friends are here to settle the score.”
“What ‘old friends’?” came Garm’s voice as he walked into the room, Vegard behind him. He was clad only in trousers and shoes, a shirt still in his hand. Nerthus and Toma couldn’t help but stare at the numerous scars across the veteran’s body. Several of them looked like they should have been fatal.
“Samnusen is on his way here,” Toma said. “With reinforcements.”
“Hells,” Vegard swore.
The three Outriders rushed back to their rooms to arm themselves. Edda, just walking in from the cellar, sent a questioning gaze to Aleksander.
“Fight’s coming,” he told her. “Could be your old friends.”
She nodded, as simply as if he told her it was about to rain. As Edda walked back down the stairs, Nerthus eyed Aleksander.
“What about you? Aren’t you going to go gear up? At least put some fighting clothes on?”
Aleksander grinned at her and simply clenched his fists a few times, letting his knuckles pop like corks.
“Nah. Can’t afford a sword, let alone armor that fits comfortably. Damn blacksmiths charge extra for us ‘big and tall’-sized guys. Don’t worry about me though, I can handle myself. How much time do you think we have, anyway?”
“Not long,” she admitted. “They’re mounted, and the roads aren’t too crowded here at night. But I ordered my people to waylay them as best as they could. I got here as fast as possible to warn you.”
“Well you’ve done plenty, I think. Ten on six isn’t hopeless, not when the six are ready for it. Everyone here knows how to handle themselves.”
Nerthus arched an eyebrow.
“Everyone? Even your friend with the tattoo? I figured she was more a ‘by-the-hour’ type of friend.”
“Hah! Don’t let her hear you say her that.” He turned his head
as Edda came walking back upstairs, clad in her dark assassin’s outfit, with the daggers of her fallen “comrades” sheathed on her belt. “Ey, speak of the devil!”
Rolling her eyes, Edda stood between Alek and Nerthus. The sound of heavily armored men walking filled the room. Gone were the concealed armor and riding coats from earlier as Garm, Toma, and Vegard walked in. The three Outriders were wearing steel barbute helmets, solid metal shoulder guards, with a metal hauberk covering their torsos and legs. A grey strip of cloth ran down the center of their chests, bearing the sigil of the Outrider Legion in red paint. They were armed each with their gladius on their belts and long swords across their backs. Vegard carried a bow and quiver. Garm had his enchanted gauntlets on. His repeating crossbow was in Toma’s hands, who rushed past the group and began climbing the stairs.
“Toma is going to cover the square from the Commander’s Office,” Garm said. Vegard is going to use that window over there. Nerthus, how many bolts do you have for your…uh…hand?”
“Only a few,” she said, ignoring the curious looks on Aleksander and Edda’s faces.
“Okay, you take that other window. I’ll be up on the second floor with the other bow. I doubt any of them will make it to the door. But if they do, that’s where you two,” he said, indicating Alek and Edda, “come in. Let them tire out battering the doors down, then once they’re in, finish them off. Just be warned, all of you. Samnusen isn’t quite…normal. He can take one hell of a beating. If you have to face him up close for some reason, don’t do it alone. Run if you have to. But the rest of them will go down like they were anyone else.”
They all nodded. It was really the only plan they needed. The barracks was an incredibly fortified building on its own. Without preamble, Alek walked past Garm, heading towards the front door.
“Where are you going?” Garm demanded.
“Gonna sit on the front steps. I don’t want to miss the show that’s going to happen outside.”
“This is no game,” Garm snarled.
“Of course not,” Alek said as he opened the door. “I’m going to sit right here, and watch you three stuff pins inside whoever it is that wants trouble.” He looked at Garm as he spoke, now pointing a finger behind him into the Square itself. “And then, I’m going to finally get to see what one of those things can do.”
The Outrider Legion: Book One Page 21