by Unknown
A dozen bodies lay atop the stone door near the entrance to Slate’s home. Slate expected to see armored or uniformed bodies but instead saw peasants with simple clothing. They held hammers and rock picks and other tools turned into rudimentary weapons. Even more confusingly, the peasants were mutilated. Dismembered arms and legs lay scattered alongside decapitated heads on the ground. The stack of bodies and body parts reached a summit in the doorway. An old sword pointed skyward, held in place by the armless body of a dead peasant.
The hoot of the night owl pierced the sky, which Slate noticed but didn’t act upon.
“We need to leave,” Rainier whispered tersely. Slate didn’t want to leave. Everything he knew was gone. Every person from his childhood was dead. His parents, the only family he had, were killed. Why wasn’t he here to help fight off the attackers? Maybe he could have saved them. The beating of hooves grew louder and Rainier grabbed his arm, pulling him back.
Slate allowed himself to be pulled, too shocked to put up a fight. Rainier pulled Slate inside a house with a view of Slate’s boyhood home. It smelled of dried blood and death. In his current state, Slate found the room fitting and he stared out the window in a daze. The hoof beats stopped on the main path from the mine, forcing the approaching contingent to walk the rest of the way upon foot. Their voices penetrated Slate’s preoccupied mind.
A feminine voice filtered through the night air. “We didn’t find any villagers alive to question. The bodies were brought to the mine for your examination. We thought the cold mining caves would prevent decay better than leaving them out here. It appears most villagers were taken by surprise and killed in their sleep. However, there was one notable exception, and we are bringing you to that house now. We left the scene intact for you…”
“You did very well, guardsman. I traveled as quickly as possible from Ravinai when the report came in.” The voice of Villifor was unmistakable, even in Slate’s stupor. It snapped Slate to attention, with his eyes burning a hole through the figure of the approaching headmaster. They reached Slate’s house and Villifor quietly looked at the bodies of the attackers. “Who has seen this?”
“There are two guardsmen on watch in the mountainside above the village.”
“Please wait for me by the horses.” All four guardsmen turned to leave, along with one cloaked individual. “Magnus, stay with me.”
The hulking figure with a broadsword across his back returned. “Yes, Villifor?” The headmaster waited until the guardsmen were safely out of earshot before continuing.
“What do you see?”
“A weak and pathetic miner overwhelmed by peasants without weapons.”
“Why would these peasants attack a man so heavily fortified in his home? He has modest belongings and many lives were lost breaching his door.”
“I can’t think of any reason.”
“Then you still have a lot to learn.” Villifor reached down and pulled the armless body from the top of the pile, exposing Slate’s father beneath. “I know this man, although I’m sure most people in Malethya have forgotten him.”
“Was he a hero from the war like you?”
Villifor appeared conflicted before answering. “He was a stubborn fool who doesn’t deserve to be remembered. I hope his son has inherited his mother’s judgment. We already know he inherited his father’s prowess with weaponry…this is undoubtedly the father of Slate Severance.”
Magnus looked down on Slate’s father and spat. “Hero or not, he is nobody to me.”
Villifor slapped Magnus across the face. Magnus’ eyes flared, but he said nothing. “I said he didn’t deserve to be remembered. Did you hear me say he deserved to be disgraced? It’s time for you to learn another tough lesson. There is something unnatural about this attack. Peasants don’t continue to attack in this manner after losing an arm or leg. The northern villages already speak of increased raids and armed bandits. If news of this attack gets out, it will lead to chaos in the kingdom. We can’t allow that to happen. Back in camp, there is a package of explosive orbs. Tell the guardsmen on watch to help load the bodies from here and take them into the mine. While they are loading the bodies, go set the orbs in the mine. Make sure you come back to camp in one piece…and alone.”
Magnus lifted his chin slightly and clenched his jaw. “What about the guardsmen?”
“Guardsmen stationed in this part of Malethya don’t deserve to wear crimson. They’ve been sent here for various crimes or flaws in character. They’ll aid the crown more by staying silent in the bottom of a mine shaft….do you have a problem with that?”
“No sir. I want to serve the crown.”
“Excellent, and don’t forget to enlist the help of the two guardsmen up the mountainside. I’ll see you back at camp alone, and if I do, you will have earned my mentorship in Bellator.”
Magnus stood silent for a second as the gears of morality turned slowly in his head. Apparently they needed more oil, because the gears seized and any question of morality stopped with them. Magnus made eye contact with Villifor and said, “Yes, sir!” in a commanding voice. His lips twisted into a nearly imperceptible smirk, causing Slate to shiver. Was he looking forward to carrying out Villifor’s sadistic command? The two men walked back to their horses.
“Excellent. After the explosion, ride into camp at a gallop and breathlessly explain there was an accident in the mine. The exploding orbs should be powerful enough to give us a valid excuse to leave this fractal-forsaken outpost and get back to civilization.” The two men mounted their horses and rode away.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Rainier whispered hurriedly. “We’ve got to get back to Sana. Magnus will be looking for those guardsmen as soon as he gets the explosive orbs from camp.” Slate and Rainier scrambled up the hillside and reached Sana in the rock formation just as they heard the sound of Magnus’ horse riding up the main path to the mine entrance. Sana met them with a flurry of questions.
“What’s going on? Were you spotted? Who is getting off that horse down there?”
“Magnus is coming to order these two guardsmen to bring the dead, with my parents among them, into the mine where the other townsfolk have been kept. While the guardsmen are in there, he plans to collapse the mine to eliminate anyone that has seen what transpired in Pillar.” Slate looked down at the still unconscious guardsmen, then at the approaching figure of Magnus. They wouldn’t have time to hide the bodies and if Magnus informed Villifor that the guardsmen were incapacitated, they’d have every guardsman in camp looking through the mountainside for them.
“Rainier, Magnus is looking for inept guardsmen. Let’s live up to his expectations. Sana, stay hidden and figure out a distraction. We might need the extra time if we’re still down there when Magnus blows the mine.” There wasn’t time for a better plan.
Slate told Rainier to sit with his back against the rock formation. “Pretend to sleep…and snore…loudly!” Even with the darkness giving them extra time, Magnus would be within view in seconds when he turned a corner of the small mountain path. Slate hurried to a spot just before the bend in the path, leaned against a tree for balance and started peeing.
When Magnus rounded the corner, Slate pretended to be startled. He slurred a few drunken curses as he jumped in surprise, delivering a satisfyingly large amount of urine onto the meticulously cared for cloak of Magnus. “Drunken fool!” Magnus shouted as he assessed the damage to his clothes. Slate ran up the footpath to Rainier, kicking the snoring guardsman awake with the furious Magnus on his heels. Slate spun to face Magnus, dropping into a pitifully inept interpretation of a battle stance. Rainier jumped up and reached for his short sword, only to get it stuck in its sheath while attempting to pull it free. “Stop in the name of the Crimson Guard!” Slate commanded in a terrified voice.
“Don’t call yourselves that. Crimson Guardsmen do not drink while on duty or fall asleep at their post.” Magnus wound up and slapped Rainier upon his helmet. “Pitiful. Improperly fit armor and weak bladder
s. You can call yourselves Crimson Guardsmen, but make no mistake. You are all but ostracized from the ranks of the guard, sentenced to a meaningless life in a forgotten part of the kingdom. ” Slate’s shoulders slumped in relaxation. Magnus had not recognized them in the darkness. “Villifor requested you personally transfer the bodies in town into the mine. There is a cart near the mine entrance for the task. Do it quickly to prove your worth and maybe you will curry his favor. I will wait for you by the mine.”
“Yes, sir!” Rainier and Slate answered simultaneously. They put on a good show of running as quickly as possible down the narrow mountain trail. Magnus could be heard following them down at his own self-assured pace, undoubtedly proud of his natural ability to command the fully trained guardsmen. The ruse had worked. Sana remained safe in the rocks above Pillar and they remained undiscovered.
They found the cart at the mine and pushed it down the trail. After putting enough distance between themselves and Magnus to whisper, Rainier asked, “What’s the next part of the plan?”
“That’s as far as I got before Magnus showed up.”
Rainier groaned. “So the plan was to get ourselves blown up in the mine? You need to work on your lesson plans, Teacher.” Rainier’s odd sense of humor surfaced and he chuckled at his own joke. “Are there any ways out of the mine beside the main entrance?”
“There’s a ventilation shaft, but we’d never get to it in time. The whole mountain would cave in before we made it out.”
“Then we’ll have to go out the front,” the tribesman whispered with a smile. They left the cart as close to Slate’s house as the path would allow and Rainier set to work, grabbing the dead attacker from the top of the pile and hefting him off the impaled sword. Slate looked down upon the still face of his father. Emotion threatened to overwhelm him, but he managed to steel himself for the moment. There would be time for emotion later. Right now he needed to get out of town alive. Slate closed his father’s eyes and carried him to the cart.
How would he get out of town without alerting the guardsmen? Could he prevent Magnus from blowing up the town? His mind raced and the pile of bodies in the cart grew higher. Rainier was right – the only way out of the mine was through the front entrance where Magnus would be stationed. Slate walked into the tomb he had once called home and discovered his mother. She had died rushing toward the door, presumably to take his father’s place when he fell to the attackers. “I’m sorry for leaving, Mother,” Slate whispered as he gently picked her up. Slate laid his mother in the cart, unable to understand why this massacre had happened.
“It’s time to head back.” Rainier whispered, resting his hand on Slate’s shoulder. “Are you ready?”
“There’s nothing we can do for them now, and this mountain was a big part of their lives. It’s fitting they will be buried beneath it. The town is dead. Let Magnus bury it. We just need to get out alive.”
“We’ll get out alive,” Rainier met Slate’s eyes with resolve. “Consider it a test for your student.”
The two pushed the cart toward the mine and found Magnus leaning against the entrance. Slate could make out a bulge in his cloak pocket that looked to be the same shape as the orbs from the arena. That must be the trigger to detonate the explosive orbs in the mine. “There’s a large cavern about five minutes into the mine. Unload the cart there, where you see the bodies of the other peasants. As a reward for your hard work, you can take your time unloading the cart. I’ll make sure to let Villifor know of your devoted service.”
“Yes, sir!” Rainier promised before pushing the cart past Magnus.
Inside the mine, the temperature cooled considerably and Slate hoped he wasn’t blindly following Rainier to his death. He looked over his shoulder and saw Magnus walking away from the mine, fingering the orb within his pocket. Sheltered from his view by the added darkness of the mine, Rainier pushed the cart down a slightly descending path in the direction of the cavern. “…just in case he’s listening for the sound of the wheels on the stone,” Rainier said in explanation. “Now, take off your armor and grab anything you want to keep.”
Slate disrobed and grabbed his staff. “Now what?”
“We walk out the front entrance and face Magnus. I’m tired of acting inept.” Rainier unsheathed his short swords and smirked.
“We’ll have guardsmen upon us in minutes if they hear the sounds of battle.”
“We face certain death in this mine. There is no other way out, so we need to go out the way we came…besides, I have a feeling Magnus won’t want to fight us.” He offered no further explanation before striding out of the mine as if he were entering an arena duel. Magnus faced the mine entrance a hundred yards away, turning the orb over in his hands. He dropped it into his pocket and reached for his broadsword at the sight of Rainier exiting the mine with swords drawn. Slate followed Rainier’s lead and ran for the exit of the mine. He planted his staff outside the entrance and flipped overhead, landing on one knee. Recognition flashed on Magnus’ face but Rainier spoke before Magnus charged, “If you want to leave this town alive, stop right there.”
Magnus laughed into the night. “This isn’t the arena, little man, and this isn’t a practice sword. You are unarmored and I could snap Slate’s staff in two with one swing.”
“…if you are able to connect, Magnus. As I recall, you didn’t land a single blow in our last encounter.” Slate countered, trying to appear more confident than he was. Rainier began circling to his right, trying to flank Magnus.
“Let’s find out.” Magnus unleashed a mighty swing across his body. The horizontal swing prevented Slate from leaping to the side as he had during their initial encounter and the reach of the blade was sufficient to keep Rainier from countering as he engaged Slate. Slate jumped back, narrowly escaping the sword’s reach and Rainier dove to the ground. The only way Slate could think to stop Magnus without the sounds of their battle reaching the Crimson camp was to catch his blade. He transferred his staff to his left hand and flexed his right hand within Lucus’ glove…time to see if all this testing would pay off.
Whoosh. A throwing knife with a catalpa tree on it flew by Slate’s head and buried itself in Magnus’ foot. Magnus stopped in mid-swing, dropping the blade tip to the ground in agony. Rainier darted within range of his short swords and pressed his blade against Magnus’ throat. “Drop it.” Rainier commanded. Sana stood silhouetted on top of the mine entrance, holding the exact pose Slate used in his description of the Sicarius headmaster standing atop the rooftops of Ravinai. “I told you not to fight. That is the blade of the Sicarius headmaster in your foot. I would be very still if I were you.” Terror appeared in Magnus’ eyes and he dropped his sword. Slate caught it before it hit the ground. “Here’s how this is going to work.” Rainier spoke in a dangerously quiet tone to Magnus. “We want to get out of here without guardsmen chasing us all the way to Ravinai. You need to get back to camp alone and with the mine blown up. It seems to me that both can happen.”
Slate turned the large sword over in his hands. It had a blade notched from use and a family crest at the hilt. Images of Magnus spitting upon his dead father resurfaced and Slate let them smolder. He casually walked up to Magnus, reached within Magnus’ cloak pocket, and pulled out the trigger orb. Inside the orb, two colors shifted with respect to each but never mixed. “How does this work?”
“Break the orb by striking it with your sword. When the colors mix, the exploding orbs detonate.”
Slate looked to the sword in his hands. “Did your father give this to you?”
“I peeled that sword from the hands of a dead nobleman who placed his bets poorly. It means nothing to me.” Despite the declaration, Slate sensed a connection between Magnus and his sword.
“The people of my village didn’t believe in fighting. Since they were caught defenseless in life, it would be fitting to protect them in death. This sword would be a good start…”
Slate walked up to the mine entrance, sneaking a glance at Sana abo
ve the wooden support structures, still holding her best Sicarius pose. He laid the sword within the mine and walked back to Magnus. His eyes were bulging from his head in anger, but the threat of the Sicarius headmaster held him in check.
Rainier finished the conversation. “The only thing left to discuss is what happens when I pull this sword away from your throat. The Sicarius headmaster will stay within striking distance as we go and untie the captive guardsmen up in the mountain. I won’t have their deaths on my head. They will awaken in short order and undoubtedly make their way to the Crimson camp. You will stay right here and not move because you wouldn’t want to find another knife streaking toward you in the night. Once the other guardsmen are clear of the mountaintop, we’ll detonate the exploding orbs. Do you understand?”
Magnus looked to the knife in his foot. “I understand. I also understand that I won’t forget this.” His anger seemed to focus as he settled his gaze upon Slate.
“…neither will I...” Slate spit in his face, as Magnus had done to his father, and stepped on the catalpa knife, burying it further into Magnus’s foot.
Slate walked up the mountain trail toward the rock formation and the guardsmen and Rainier joined him shortly after. They cut the grapevine ropes and slapped their faces a few times. They’d be lucid in a few minutes, alarmed after that, and adrenaline would bring them to their feet and running toward the Crimson camp. They collected their travel sacks and Rainier gave the call of the sparrow. Sana met them and they headed toward Old Man Leatherby’s farm, stopping to look down on the town when they were a safe distance from the mine.
Slate pulled out the trigger orb. “How did you make that throw, Sana? Maybe you should be the one joining Sicarius.”