TRONDHEIM SAGEN: Earth Shattering

by Andreas Hennen

  "It is the loyalty of Terra that is being doubted. Receiving one of your hawks would offer Dicius the justification for a new lie. He is an evil nefarious creature intent on weaving a web of lies on the behalf of an unknown obscure master. He whispers wicked suggestions into the ear of the Emperor.

  "He could say that the hawk’s message is unreliable asserting that it carries some misleading messages. Could that be right?" the Saint asked. His subjects had given Titus his high-sounding nickname.

  "Exactly, Your Excellency," Godwin answered eating a piece of stale bread with the same eagerness as a bear lacerating a large freshly caught salmon.

  "But please, Gentlemen, what are you doing standing there? Sit down and feast with us!" Titus invited the two armigers to sit down to feed their appetites and to give them the energy for the long journey south ahead of them.

  "I saw the entrance to the walled catacombs. Your Chamberlain wouldn’t explain anything, but if you have blocked the doorway to the crypt where you pray to the sacred relics of your ancestors, the reason must be serious!" Godwin veiled his question behind a statement, more like a fish hook well hidden in the belly of a worm to invite a bite which would give the answer.

  "Yes! It’s a terrible thing. I lost many men before sealing the entrance. It was my son Saxon kneeling in prayer, who heard them first," but the Abbot stopped for a moment. There was a silence as if they were in a confessional.

  "My kind host, you must tell me what is threatening you! It is imperative to understand every danger so we will be able organize ourselves in the hope that we have not yet reached the gallows without noticing the fact at all!" King Godwin felt relief at having discovered that Titus continued in his loyalty to their Emperor. But listening to the voice of this loyal subject, in his heart he feared hearing of new unexpected enemies.

  "My King, excuse me for answering a question with a question, but the restricted annual Council seems to me to have revealed death and destruction?" intrigued Titus asked the Lord of the South.

  "Without revealing secrets or breaking rules of any kind, I can tell you what emerged from the confrontation. Not really death and total destruction, but ungodly signs are traced to the west. In the east Orcs investigate and test our defences, walking the streets of the Kingdom in search of hidden pathways. From the north the icy sea pours out hordes of escaping invaders. Exactly what they are running from is not clear. The only peaceful Realm would seem to be the south, exposed to the usual raids on the coast.

  "Wicked signs evoking what? Orcs running free in our lands?" Titus insisted very curious because of the very meagre summary of the details offered by Godwin.

  "There are no certainties. We have evidence only of large demonic dogs, seen on the Great Snake Belt. Just who is to blame for this appearance, it is not clear, but King Belial is also in action. I met him at the Titan" brave Godwin answered with a worried absent gaze.

  "If Belial is also on the march, it means we have been totally blind regarding impious powerful winds blowing in these lands. We have had a taste of this evil!" Titus exclaimed before giving a nice bite to a piece of bread with goat's butter and meat from the dinner of the day before. "When my son was in the catacombs, he heard a loud scream. It sent shivers down his back. The terrible sound came from the bowels of the mountain, right from the deepest descending path in the heart of our beloved mountain. My son, who had joined a team himself, hurried cautiously towards the unusual sound, thinking it came from a few cave trolls," Titus stopped again to sip some milk and continued: "Those stupid beasts rarely lose their way, reaching our tunnels. They are ignorant beasts and fall easy victims to the narrowed gaps, specially designed by miners to stop them. A troll that is stuck becomes aggressive, but in the narrow tunnels, such beasts are not even able to move and are easily eliminated using picks or scythes," explained the Saint to the Righteous who was attentive and absorbed. His silent interest was like that of a young man listening to tales of former times.

  "Saxon and the fastest men went down the darkest path, where the corridor was three men high and one wide because of an error in calculation. At the point where the shadows come to life even in the eyes of the most fearless warriors, incredulous, they saw the Puppet Master," Titus interrupted the story and with a disgusted look and his face contracted in an involuntary grimace of pain, he sat down. The Abbot fell into a funeral silence staring at the table in front of him, but his guests could not understand the reason for this reaction, because they did not know what he was talking about.

  "Excuse me, Your Eminence, what would a Puppet Master be?" asked the dark armiger, who was an able horseman, wrinkling his thick eyebrows.

  "It is an ancient form of evil found in obscure songs, evoked by human sacrifices, many human sacrifices!" Titus answered with a thin almost catatonic voice.

  At that moment the door of the room at the top of the stairs slammed. A metallic rattling reached the ears of those present. It was not the noise made by the armour of a warrior, but it sounded like a deformed creature with an uncertain staggering gait. The two guards stood up and unsheathed their swords, staring at the dark shadows of everything from the third step on. Godwin also got up slowly, not making hurried gestures but to avoid being hit like a child, by the first dart thrown. He moved towards the left side of the door. The Abbot, remembering the silent stairs, put his hand on the pommel of his sword that was leaning against the black throne.

  The noise became stronger and closer, filling the room with noise of scraping metal and irregular thumps. From the shadows emerged a man walking with difficulty, supported by a rudimentary crutch. The newcomer was covered in black plate armour. It was well finished with golden edgings, bearing the device of two lions carrying blue flags on his breast-plate. The symbol they saw on his armour made the two guards relax. They laid aside their arms and bowed deeply, despite not knowing who that man was. The young man had a noble face, anonymous chestnut hair and many injuries clearly from a fierce battle. It was the only son of Titus, Saxon, Prior of the fortress. The Abbot got up laughing nervously and exclaimed in voice that was so loud that it sounded more like a rebuke than a welcome:

  "Good morning, my dear Saxon, welcome among us! I was just narrating your deeds in the catacombs, making me go on and on until it seemed I was trying to convince myself."

  "Happy to know that you are alive, Prior of the monastery! Your father praised the valiant deeds you have accomplished!" exclaimed the Lord of the South, rising and moving the throne to make it easier for the wounded man to sit down.

  Saxon sat down heavily, his good leg giving way under the weight of the armour, causing a sudden agonising pain. It was so strong that the young man was unable to hide a wince. Saxon grasped his leg in both hands, bending down to rest his head on the grey table, trying to hide the pain.

  "Forgive me, my King, I didn’t understood a thing. My last duel has damaged not only my body, but also my hearing."

  The young man, despite being in considerable pain, wore a pair of heavy, very wide shoulder straps. The straps had high arrests arising from them, to block blows from the side. The protection on the right was white, decorated with a blue cross that extended to the sleeve edge, while the left one was black, decorated with the two lions. The rest of the armour was black.

  Godwin raised his voice and repeated himself, adding his compliments for the courageous deeds he had heard described.

  "Thank you, my King, there should be a barrier against that abomination!" Saxon cried modestly, prey to attacks of pain, while he massaged his leg without effect, given he was wearing armour.

  "Son, describe it to us, you who have seen and fought against that being. Your account will surely be more detailed and instructive for our guests," Titus asked, moving behind his son and caressing his head.

  "You can feel it when an enemy is evil: the air is charged with negativity; but I have never sensed such a thick atmosphere before. The voice of the being seemed like fire, pervading everything, passing through my body and
making me feel weak, breathless. My sword became heavy and the shield worse, but the real horror did not really begin with the Puppet Master. They came in droves, like hungry stray dogs, small grey homunculi all with the most horrendous deformities. Some with only one eye, some with three arms or a large mouth with long teeth and forked tongues, armed with swords, spears, maces, with any object capable of disembowelling or smashing a human body.

  The first wave literally fell on our heads. Those little bastards were walking on the ceiling of the gallery, hidden in shadow, where we could not see them. They descended upon us quickly, like eagles in hunting hares, with their horrible worn-out broken weapons. Their breath was rotten, coming straight from the deepest pit of putrefaction. They had limbs with inhuman strength. They suddenly overwhelmed us and a strong attacking blow penetrated my chain mail. Luckily I suffered only a slight cut on my back. For this reason I am now wearing a complete armour with good protection for my shoulders!" Saxon stopped his story and with difficulty reached for a pitcher.

  When Godwin saw he was having difficulty he handed him a glass full of milk. The Prior showed his gratitude to King Godwin with a nod and then continued his story: "I was definitely lucky, while brave Maurus was hit by an axe right in the belly and fell to the ground. That hellish being wasted no time jumping over him, sank his horrendous paws in the bleeding wound, pulling out Maurus’s guts, filling his hands and carrying them to his mouth. I hit that wicked creature in the head and smashed it completely, but as long as he had strength in his arms he continued to tear poor bleeding Maurus apart.

  They fall under the blows of swords in the same way that humans do, but they are not afraid of us at all and they continue in their exasperated attempt to kill and to tear bodies apart, as long as even only one limb is able to move. Their flesh is like clay that has not yet hardened completely, when it takes more effort to penetrate it, but it is not yet dry enough to crumble. Their fetid blood is very dark red-brown in colour, and gives off a nauseating stench. It resembles, in fact, the slurry produced by putrefying corpses on the battlefield, when they swell as they rot then gas tears them apart, throwing their horrendous fluid all around.

  Godwin and the two armigers were affected by his account, but they didn't want to let him to see, as they struggled to keep the expressions of disgust it created from their faces. The prince kept touching his leg, then drinking and finally continued his tale:

  "The first wave caught us by surprise. We are young and inexperienced and after all not many creatures are able to walk on the ceiling. They were less cautious during the second attack, and with great fervour we sent it back to where it came from. The same thing happened during the third and the fourth attacks. It was only when there was no room in the gallery to even walk with the many corpses lying on the ground, nor to breathe for the nauseating smell, that we heard that strong chilling scream again. It was immediately blatantly clear that we had made an error of judgement. Cave trolls do not have so much breath nor are their voices powerful. We thought it wise to retreat to the previous section, fearing an enormous enemy. In this case the narrowed anti-troll corridor in hard stone would be in our favour and would block our opponents. The air became irrespirable, despite the fact that there were many of us. Although none of us was new to battles, fear spread, eroding our confidence and our souls to the point where we were forced to retreat.

  When the enemy was revealed, it was in the form of a thin and tall anthropomorphic being with a bare torso with well-defined, but not large muscles. Its smooth grey skin, the same colour as the stones of the catacomb, was able to conceal itself even in the full light of the torches. It had long, powerful arms, knotty hands with four opposable fingers capable of re-creating those disgusting beings from parts of their own carcasses. He picked up a couple of them from the ground and crushed them with great force, until he obtained a shapeless mass from which he made a new monster, brother of the previous ones. As soon as he placed the new creature on the ground, the new entity turned against us, brandishing a weapon picked up at random.

  The Lord of the South interrupted Saxon asking:

  "My Prince, if I understand correctly, was that being able to resuscitate dead monsters?"

  "Always accepting that they can be considered living beings in the first place, yes! He resurrects them by regenerating them from death," answered the King's son seriously.

  The situation seemed much gloomier than they feared. This news sounded deeply inauspicious to the ears of the three travelling companions, aware that they had to undertake a difficult journey on roads that once were safe. Saxon shook his head and plunged back into his memories:

  "After killing a couple more beings, we attacked a fresh onslaught of the enemy like furies. I will never forget the absurdity of what I saw. The grey being opened wide its thin and sunken yellow eyes, similar to those of a feline, filled his chest with air and with its huge mouth gaping, full of flat bevelled teeth, he gave a scream. The sound emitted by that gaping black hole echoed in the stone labyrinth with such vigorous anger that three soldiers in front of me exploded instantly. I was hit by a red cloud and violently pushed back into the gallery. A large fragment of a sword shattered and hurled in the air by the scream that stuck in my leg, making me useless for the rest of that battle and probably also in the future.

  "How did you kill the beast, my prince?" asked curiously one of the guards of King Godwin.

  "We didn't kill him. We ran away, while he was regenerating his puppets, and we sealed the crypt, but not only that. The Abbey's Sancta Sanctorum also had a narrow passage to escape sieges, connecting the structure to the catacombs. It has now collapsed and is manned by guards day and night," he answered with shame, trembling like a swamp rush blown by the wind.

  "Therefore, we have horrors of ancient times sending death from the depths of the earth!" muttered the Lord of the South, tired of receiving bad news.

  "We had better to send messages to Trondheim and the Sepulchre of the Gods to warn them to isolate their catacombs and those of their nobles," Titus proposed rubbing his hands nervously and then adding: "At least human lives will be saved and sacred relics will be recovered. Our relics are still in the hands of those beings.

  "This is certainly a priority, my good Titus!" Godwin exclaimed, thinking of his family sitting on the largest catacomb of the Kingdom.

  "I would entrust the task to the Chamberlain. It must be done immediately without distractions," Titus stoically replied as he headed to the door.

  "My good King, you must face another problem," Saxon announced with serious air and restless hands. "The Long Plain, right on your borders, has no longer been in the Emperor's control for several moons. During the day, cutthroats patrol every centimetre of it, while ravenous beasts roam furiously in the dark hours!"

  "With so much chaos where are the armies of Josef, Lord of Hal Barat?" asked infuriated King Godwin leaping to his feet in anger, like a tiger, chased by hunters and erupting from the forest. As Godwin moved nervously around the table, thinking, his two armigers watched each other astounded and very scared.

  "My Lord, do not be angry. If you will, we have this information for you. Our cousin, returning from a pilgrimage in the south, has survived only thanks to the formidable escort provided by King Josef's Protectors of the Way, who currently do their best to stem the atrocities of the criminals," Saxon explained, hoping to calm down the great King of the South.

  "Luckily, we have some news that is just sour, not salty, flavoured by blood and sweat!" Godwin exclaimed, lifting his clenched fists in a sign of victory.

  Worried, the two armigers exchanged opinions, on which route was the wisest. They were talking so loudly that they attracted the attention of the nobles.

  "What disturbs you, my protectors?" asked King Godwin.

  "Many things, my Lord, but the most serious one concerns the insufficient numbers of our escort!" replied the good horseman with his voice low and his eyes down.

  "Do not say things, like
that! You are warriors of the Tomb of the Gods, men of the Holy Army and the One God guides your ways, as well as accompanying your blades! Do not fear any evil, then!" the Lord of the South replied, true to his unshakeable faith, strong and aware of being a warrior, as few are among men.

  "My King, we fear it will end differently. You will be our escort, defending us, and you will be killed for our sakes!" his blond armiger replied, regretful and tearful adding finally: "My Lord, since the moment we left the tomb of the Gods a question has been bothering my mind. I would like to know what was the guiding idea in selecting as an escort two simple armigers instead of taking into your service knights, perhaps Prophets of the Sword, the most talented warriors of the South."

  King Godwin was caught unawares and hurriedly stammered an almost incomprehensible sentence. Righteous coughed twice to lift the tone of his characteristic deep, monotonous voice and then responded:

  "My dear subjects, on these occasions I always take less important soldiers by my side to give them the opportunity to admire the Titan and the beauty of the Empire of United Men. The great knights of the South, for whatever reason or for whatever promises of marriage, often ride towards destinations that are not possible for simple warrior." Righteous was saddened. He approached his men, laid his hand on both men's shoulders and said to them, "The journey was to be pleasant and safe, but now it has turned into a difficult undertaking. I am very sorry, my men, that I have led you unintentionally into a risky situation, I ask forgiveness!"

  Immediately the two white liveried armigers stood up and stated:

  "My King, there is nothing to forgive. If we are with you, it is by God's will!"

  Godwin immediately recovered his courage at the sound of those strong words and shouted:

  "If God wants it, so be it!"

  The young Saxon, watching the scene as if he were a sick as old man seated on the black throne, felt a fire burning in his chest and cried:

  "If I had my full strength, I would travel with you as far as Castrum Leonis, but I would only get in the way. It would be better for you to ride fast for Long Plain. The robbers are mostly on foot, but they are still able to shoot with bows and crossbows."