Forsaken

by Jon Kiln

  He returned to the stairs. Nisero looked out and up, but saw nothing. He listened both directions, but heard the same.

  The lieutenant swung around the end and climbed to the next level. He saw now that the stairs switched back up to the third level. On the level where he stood, he saw open rooms in both directions. Massive beams held up the ceiling. All furniture and décor had been stripped away. He saw discolored spots on the walls in the shapes of weapons and shields. The rooms were large, but appeared too small to be the great halls.

  Nisero took the next set of stairs and emerged to a twist of passages in three directions. The stairs switched up to another level and Nisero felt lost. He had no idea which way the captain had gone.

  Arianne was up. He couldn’t imagine anything from stopping the captain from going that way, including himself. Berengar had not been discovered so he had not passed the man going up the stairs, nor the party coming down.

  Nisero sighed and took the next switch back. He came out in a curved hall. Through a grand arch he looked on a hearth as large as the house he had grown up in. The ceilings were as high as the remainder of the castle.

  Nisero walked through the grand arch and stared around the empty hall. Broken stone cluttered the flagstone floor, but all the furniture was gone.

  A massive crest still hung on the wall above the sprawling mouth of the hearth. He wondered if it had survived only because it was too high for looters to pull down. The symbols and most of the pictures around the faded colors were meaningless to him. He saw the faint images of what could have been drawings of dragons. The lettering was ancient, but a version of his own language that Nisero had been taught during his training. In all his years in the king’s service, this was the first time he had used the training in the old tongues of his kingdom.

  Nisero sounded the runes out with an awkward set of pauses. “Faith … core.” He shook his head and spoke the word again, but in one breath. “Faithcore.”

  Something crashed from the next level up. The sound traveled to his ears through the arch from off the stairs. He thought of some spell that came from reading and speaking a word from the ancient tongue.

  He drew his sword and came to the arch.

  A figure charged down the stairs. It was not Berengar. Nisero stepped back into the shadows and let the runner turn and take the stairs downward.

  Blond hair furled out behind her as she turned.

  Nisero’s eyes widened and he jumped out. “Arianne, wait.”

  She ran on without responding. He moved forward, but then three more figures pursued down the steps. One wore a helmet with curled goat horns. They rounded the foot of the stairs without acknowledging they saw Nisero.

  He did not see the captain behind them, nor the daughter ahead.

  Nisero charged out and slashed the forward man across the throat. The man grabbed his neck and tumbled down. The second man turned. Nisero knocked the man’s blade aside and ran him through.

  The overlord brought his mace in an overhead swing before the second man was done falling. Nisero withdrew his blade from the body and slashed under the swing, across the overlord’s belly in one motion.

  Nisero slid on his knees, out of the third man’s path. The move proved unnecessary as the overlord just stood with his mace in the air, staring down. Blood and curls of bowel spilled out on the floor. The overlord’s knees buckled, but then he straightened and stumbled forward, slipping on the mess.

  Nisero regained his feet and made a stab at the man’s back. The overlord turned with his face as pale as any Nisero had ever seen. The man backed away from Nisero’s attack, but never lowered his arms or weapon. He backed off the edge of the floor above the stairs.

  As the man fell away, Nisero stepped around the spill of blood and looked over. The overlord had fallen more than one floor and lay crumpled on the stairs. His hands still hung above his twisted head holding his mace.

  Arianne had stopped just shy of getting crushed by his body. Nisero shuddered to think that had she been just a little faster, then that might have been how this quest ended. She was staring with eyes wide up at Nisero.

  He called out. “I am Nisero. I serve your father. I’m here to save you.”

  She leapt over the body and vanished down the stairs.

  Nisero saw shadows on the floor of the bottom level, spilling in from the outside entrance. Men were approaching. Nisero heard more commotion above. There were metal on metal rings.

  Captain Berengar was likely higher up, fighting after freeing his daughter. Once they overpowered him, he would be tortured and killed. Arianne had fled either in fear, or by order of her father. Nisero could not travel both directions. He would not be able to reach the foot of the stairs before the bandits arrived from outside. Standing and debating within himself was drawing time shorter.

  Nisero knew what Captain Berengar would order him to do.

  Nisero ran down the stairs after Berengar’s daughter.

  Chapter 14

  : Courage of the Foolhardy

  Captain Berengar raced down the steps below the cauldron chamber. He did not bother trying to hold his sword, but let the sheath scrape the walls. He was more concerned with speed than stealth.

  Berengar had not fully formed his plan, and he was not so much trying to abandon his friend as he was trying to spare him. Nisero would never agree to split up, but the captain had no time to convince him.

  Every failing of their mission had come from being a step or two behind. In his mind, they were neither being cautious enough nor bold enough. They were merely battling along between the two. It had nearly cost them their lives more than once. And now Arianne was within reach.

  He had no intention of letting her slip through his fingers. Solag may have wanted Berengar to suffer more than anything. Arianne was just a piece of that. If he could free her and force Solag’s hand between holding on to her or having Berengar himself, he bet that the bandit would choose to pursue Berengar.

  The captain stepped out of the chamber, but saw one of the bandits approaching the entrance. The overlords had already gone up. Berengar wasn’t going to get caught now, nor did he intend to give up his position sooner than he had to.

  He ran from the entrance and took the stairs two at a time before the bandit’s shadow crossed the floor.

  Berengar assumed Nisero would stay put to avoid discovery no matter how much he wanted to follow the captain. Berengar thought that if he moved quickly enough he could have Arianne free, and Nisero to safety with her shortly. If Berengar did not make it out or suffered at Solag’s hands according to the bandit king’s wishes, that was a secondary concern to him.

  He took the flights back and forth up between levels without much regard for the lower levels between. He passed what he thought to be the great hall of the castle. There were not many places to hide above, as the stairs traveled up the exterior wall of the hall and its high ceiling.

  Berengar heard voices ahead and paused on a landing, shy of the light from what he thought to be the top level. It was probably the personal chambers of the king and his family from the days when this castle represented the rule of a living land.

  He heard footsteps coming up from below. Berengar looked back and forth between the stairs beneath and the final floor above. A shadow crossed over the top step.

  He thought that maybe he could make it back down to the level of the great hall, and dodge inside just ahead of the lone bandit coming up. If that didn’t work, he was certain he could cut the man down and hide all but the spilled blood before the murder was discovered.

  Berengar instead backed onto the landing and made a leap for a beam above his head. His feet scraped the wall and he fell short. The footsteps still approached from below and conversation stopped above him. He leapt again and missed.

  “Who is that?”

  Berengar jumped again and caught the edge of the beam with his fingers. He felt splinters from the worn wood bite into his flesh. The captain kicked his feet an
d swung up on top. If he raised his head, he would be able to look over and across the top level. They would see him as well.

  He laid flat on his belly.

  The bandit took the final flight and walked up the last stairs under Berengar’s hiding spot. If the man looked directly up, he would see the captain looking down.

  The voice from the top level called again. “Who is skulking about down there?”

  “Me, my lord,” the bandit said. He crossed the top step and vanished from Berengar’s sight.

  If they happened to look up just as they took the steps, they would spot Berengar on the beam. He considered crawling along and slipping out on the top level by the wall, but the voices were close and he thought he would likely be discovered.

  “Why are you scraping about? You practicing your spy game, boy?”

  “No, sir. The horses are prepped for the ride. You asked me to tell you immediately.”

  Another voice, the raspy voice, cut over the others. “I don’t care how you do it and I don’t want half reports of half failures. You come to me with him alive, even if he is just barely so. I don’t want further delays, and I don’t want reports of no progress. Am I understood?”

  The responses were muttered. Berengar expected a shout demanding a clear answer, but the raspy voice that wanted results apparently did not care so much about clear responses.

  The horned helmets and the bandit messenger made their way down the stairs. Berengar watched their eyes and waited for even one to flick his attention upward at the right moment. They made the turn and continued down the flights. Their conversations turned to the grumbles of troop movements as if they were a real army.

  Above him, Berengar heard the conversation, including the raspy one, drift away from the stairs deeper into the top level. Eventually he lost the voices altogether. He had no idea how many were still above, nor where they had gone. There were less of them than before, and he took that as a positive.

  He dared to raise his head far enough to look over the edge of the top level. This floor was furnished, but largely with uncushioned wooden chairs and tables. They did not appear to be furnishings from the original rulers of the castle or land.

  Across the great distance, Berengar saw a great opening in the wall with broken edges on the block. A broad chain looped over a beam jutting out over the opening. He could not see it, but he knew the cage hung from it down below the opening.

  Berengar jumped down from the beam with a louder landing than he expected. He stopped and listened, but heard no response. He took the stairs and ran across the floor, just missing the furniture in his path. Dark passages led off from the main room in other directions, but he saw no motion at the moment.

  Berengar felt his chest tighten and his legs grew weak. He stumbled and grabbed hold of the arch of the ceiling, shy of looking over the edge at the cage. He felt his breath through his closing throat and he choked. The captain slapped himself once across the face and then again. He felt the blood pumping normally in his head again and the dizziness began to pass.

  He whispered to himself. “Get your iron up. Time is short.”

  Berengar looked over the side. Several links down the chain, he stared at the top of the cage. Following the chain up and along the beam, he saw no sign of a breakaway or a trap. The rigging was haphazard, but this did not appear to be the ploy to lure him out over the edge.

  With a roar of wind, the cage twisted and Arianne’s face came into view. She looked to be sleeping, but she appeared clean and unharmed.

  “Arianne,” he breathed.

  Her eyes opened and focused. “Father? Are you real?”

  “I am.”

  He leapt out without thinking to ask her about traps. Berengar impacted the chain and slid down as the cage waved. He planted his feet on the top and looked around to find a door. Arianne was standing.

  He swung out on the corner and slid down the side. As he took hold of the door with one arm, and his sword with the other, he prepared to use his weapon to lever the lock open, even if it meant breaking his sword.

  The door swung open on no lock at all, and Berengar hung in space high above the ground. Arianne reached out for him, but he was at the end of the door.

  “Father, it’s not locked.”

  “Yes, I see that. Did they hurt you?”

  “I am fine, for now.”

  He climbed across the open door’s bars as it swung on its hinge with his motion. He landed on the edge inside and the cage rocked. Arianne went off balance, but wrapped her father in a hug.

  “I feared I would never see you again, Arianne.”

  “Mother and Hallen are dead.”

  “I know.”

  “I knew you would come, but this is what they wanted. They are waiting for you and using me to bring you. Solag wants you for vengeance on her father.”

  “They don’t know I’m here yet,” Berengar said, “but we need … did you say her?”

  “Yes, Solag is a daughter, but plays the part of her brother. They believe the spirits of Zulag and Solag possess her and speak through her. She is seen as both in one – Solag Son of Zulag.”

  Berengar closed his eyes and shook his head. “I don’t even know what to do with that information.”

  “I think they know you are here, father.”

  Berengar opened his eyes and looked over the edge. Bandits gathered underneath and stared up, using their hands to shield their eyes from the sun.

  “We must away. Hold around my shoulders. Are you strong enough to hold while I climb?”

  “I think so.” She took hold of his shoulders and climbed on his back.

  “I need you to know so.”

  “I will hold. Climb, father.”

  He scaled the open door to the roof of the cage. He climbed the chain and heard the beam creak above him. Men shouted from below. This was where Berengar considered that he needed a better plan.

  He climbed along the links of the chain wrapped around the beam. His hands ached under the double weight. He wished in that moment that he had removed the splinters from where he hid on the beam.

  Berengar swung inside to the solid stone and Arianne released him.

  Two men charged him with swords drawn. Berengar pushed his daughter aside to the floor. One went for her and she scrambled around a table and away. The bandit flipped the table and followed.

  Berengar pursued him without drawing his weapon, but the second man brought his blade to the captain’s throat and shoved backward with his momentum. Berengar felt his heels reach the edge, and his weight shifted back as the bandit continued to push him over the side. The captain took hold and thought at least he could bring the man over with him that they might die together.

  The raspy voice ordered. “Don’t hurt him. Save him for me.”

  The bandit growled and shifted his weight, pulling Berengar back away from the edge. The captain saw a man in the curled horned helmet and bear skin that put the others to shame. The insane eyes glared at Berengar with a hatred he could feel. The beard looked fake – possibly sewn from goat’s fur.

  “What do you want me to do with him?” the bandit asked, looking away from the captain.

  The captain spun him and pushed. The bandit soared out into the open air, swinging his sword. He hit the cage, but continued to scream as he fell away, failing to grab hold in time.

  Berengar drew his own sword and made for the stairs in the midst of the other armed men. The bandit had Arianne by her hair and the captain ran the man through.

  “Run. I’m right behind you.”

  She took the stairs at full charge without looking back.

  “Stop her,” the bearded bandit rasped.

  Three men went for the stairs. Berengar flipped a table into them and they stumbled. The bandits continued down the steps and Berengar made to pursue.

  The bearded bandit stepped into his path with black sword drawn.

  Berengar brought his sword up and looked about. They were alone.

/>   “Solag?”

  “You know my name now,” Solag rasped. “You lied to your daughter. You will not be following her.”

  “It’s a lie I can live with to have her out of your grasp.”

  “My men will bring her back, and then you will see.”

  Berengar drove in and their swords scraped off one another. He pushed Solag back to the stairs, but the bandit king shoved the captain aside. Solag swung low, but Berengar dodged. Solag swung through at the captain’s head, but Berengar swiped the blade aside. He made his own thrust, but Solag was out of reach before he could.

  Solag was smiling. Solag’s voice broke from the raspy tone and Berengar heard a voice not unlike his own daughter’s. “I am Solag Son of Zulag. You will pay in blood for what you did to my family.”

  They circled one another and Berengar growled. “What of your murders of my family, dog?”

  The raspy effect was back. “I have only begun.”

  “Why do you lie about being Zulag’s son instead of his daughter?”

  Solag’s eyes widened and she reached up to pull at her fake beard. Berengar charged and they exchanged parries before parting again. Solag growled. “My hand is the fist of my father and brother. When I run you through over and over, it will be as by their own hands.”

  Berengar brought his sword forward. Solag squared and raised her dark blade to answer. Berengar instead hooked a chair with his foot and flung it into Solag’s chest. She shoved it aside and spun away ready for Berengar’s blade.

  He ran around her and charged down the stairs.

  Behind him, Berengar heard a shrill scream that sounded neither male nor female, but some terrible breed of monster. He still had not wrapped his brain around the idea of Solag as a female warrior.

  Berengar reached the great hall level and saw two bodies. He assumed that was the work of Nisero. He felt relief that the lieutenant had found Arianne. It almost felt like a plan. He looked back at the great hall, wondering if they had made to escape or were forced to hide.

  He looked down farther and saw a third man crumpled on the stairs below with a mace above his head. Berengar ran down to the next level. He heard Solag still screaming and running down from above.