Kargaroth

by Mark B Frost

  The ship had no less than four masts with each of the sails rolled to the top. The hull was encased in cast iron, with enough thick wooden reinforcement to withstand the roughest of waves. The long oars could be seen pulled neatly into the galley, and a huge and powerful rudder ran out behind the aft.

  Kalema was the first to comment. “By the god Anji, it’s the most amazing ship I’ve ever seen. Say Onion Lord, I’ve got a deal for you. You let me and my men have this boat and we’ll call your account even for this mission.”

  Atheme waved a finger in the air. “We already made our deal. I’ve done my share, you’re just fulfilling your end of the bargain.”

  “Was worth a shot, at any rate.”

  They had fit the nine hundred soldiers comfortably into the ship, and Kalema assigned a hundred or so to the galley for the first rowing shift. The oars would be needed for extra power to help against the powerful river currents until they reached the ocean. Once everyone was on board—including a hundred additional crewmen hired on by Setran—the carpenters pulled a few switches and the building concealing the ship collapsed, setting them free upon their journey.

  They had since traveled through rivers and ocean alike. Now the shores of Revian were in sight. A couple of scout ships had been sent out and returned, and the Barki awaited further orders from their king. Over their time together Kalema had developed a camaraderie with the two Felthespari, and he was beginning to doubt his mission. Unbeknownst to Atheme, the nine hundred soldiers that were supposedly crossing the mountains had never left Barkus’ homeland. Only the troops on the ship would be present for the upcoming battle, and they had been instructed to fight cautiously and remain ever ready to retreat.

  Kalema struggled internally to rationalize his actions. Barkus had never broken a contract, but he had used the behemoth fight as a way of preventing Atheme from officially hiring the guild. He was working under one contract alone, and he had to fulfill it. Still, he could not stop dwelling on how Atheme was trying to protect his people, and how he would do the same in the man’s situation. He was consumed with internal conflict, but his honor dictated only one path before him.

  Atheme walked up behind him and patted his shoulder. “If you keep pounding on my ship like that, you’re going to wind up in debt to me.”

  The genuine smile on his face made Kalema wince with regret. He stopped smacking the rail and hung his club from a loop on his belt. “I’ve just received bad news from the scouts I sent out. The force crossing the mountains hasn’t arrived and there has been no word from them. There is no way to be sure what has happened.”

  The smile faded and Atheme’s face turned grave. “Do you think this means Revian is aware of us?”

  “My men would take their own lives before telling anything of Barkus, and there’s no reason that a group of men traveling through the mountains would tip Revian off that there’s a force coming from the ocean. Besides, it’s unlikely that my men were caught. More likely they encountered some heavy defenses and were forced to go around, or maybe go back home.”

  “Unfortunately that would be consistent with our own experiences dealing with Revian,” he responded with a sigh. “So your troops could arrive in a few days, or they may never arrive at all.” The king nodded his response. “Well then, there’s no sense in us sitting here uselessly. There’s a chance someone might notice us. We’re just going to have to hope their western defenses aren’t as stout as their eastern border. We strike tomorrow, an hour before dawn. Agreed?”

  “Agreed. We’ll hit ‘em hard and fast, eh?”

  Atheme smiled again and adjusted his sword belt. “Between you, Abaddon, and myself, I think they’re in for more than they can handle.”

  The Lord Councilor went to tell his Champion and some of the sailors the new plans. Kalema stood glaring and clenching his teeth at the ocean in front of him, unable to cope with the bitter taste filling his mouth.

  * * * * *

  The band of soldiers approached Theor, one of the chief cities of Revian. They had slipped through several rural communities without encountering resistance, though the Barki had been forced to kill several farmer families who had taken notice. Atheme hated to see innocents killed, but the casualties of war was something he had come to terms with many years ago.

  Revian did not appear to be a naturally militant nation. It was a large collection of industrious cities that had become successful, perhaps overconfident because of their economic success. The city that stood before them was surrounded by one stone wall, and the sentries had already been dispatched by Barki archers. It seemed as though Revian’s leaders had never expected a rival nation to make it past their border defense and into their homeland. Atheme began to grow optimistic for the success of his mission.

  Quietly they scaled to the top of the walls, a dozen soldiers at a time. Kalema got the Lord Councilor’s attention and suggested that they should leave some troops behind to guard the wall, so Revian would be unable to set up archers behind them. Atheme nodded and signaled for Abaddon to take care of it. The big man seemed annoyed, but followed his orders.

  When nearly three hundred of the Barki were within the city walls and the sun was starting to rise in the east, Theor’s new shift of sentries came around a corner and saw an army assembling in their own courtyard. A few ran to sound the alarm as the rest charged forward to attack.

  Atheme and Kalema set upon the thirty or so men like wolves among babes, and the two chieftains obliterated the group before the Barki could even get involved. The King of Shadows’ war club left soldiers dead or lamed, while Atheme scattered spells and used his sare to slice throats at terrific speeds. The Lord Councilor signaled to Abaddon to speed the process of moving in troops, then turned to see a few hundred hastily assembled Revian soldiers coming from the city.

  The battle began in earnest. Atheme found that these Revians were as well trained and physically dominant as the ones in the Gorge had been, even while caught by surprise. Fortunately it seemed that the western city held only a small number of warriors for home defense, and the Barki held the advantage in numbers.

  A force of Revians slipped around and tried to scale the wall as Kalema had predicted, hoping to cut off the flow of troops. They were met by efficient Barki archers at one end and the Daemon at the other. Abaddon relentlessly lashed into soldiers trying to invade his wall, and sent dozens of mutilated bodies crashing to the ground below.

  Atheme slew one soldier after another and watched the flow of the battle around him. The Barki seemed to be having little trouble with the situation and the fighting had so far been unremarkable. He saw victory in sight and a smile crossed his face. He began to cut loose and show off his abilities, feeling the power he had drained from the behemoth coursing through his body.

  He spun his sare in circles on either side of his body, ripping apart any enemies near him. One soldier tried to attack from long range by using a massive ball and chain, so Atheme stabbed the sare’s tip into the ground and extended it to its full length, letting it carry him into the air. He then threw his weight forward and flew into the man’s face with a powerful full-bodied kick as the iron ball sailed harmlessly beneath him. The soldier fell back into his comrades, as Atheme shot forward and stabbed the sare’s blade into his face, pinning him hard into the ground. He jumped up and circled his body around the sare, kicking at the throats of the foes within his reach.

  The King of Shadows’ giant club did damage on par with the flashy Knight of the Sun, though his fighting style was more simplistic. A single swing from the club was powerful enough to tear a man’s head from his shoulders, and Kalema used a long flexible pike to make up for the relatively short range of the weapon. The two chieftains remained close, watching each other’s back.

  Then the tides of the battle changed. Atheme was not surprised to learn that his invasion would not be easy, but he was annoyed. Another wave of Revian soldiers arrived—probably returning from patrol somewhere—and began pounding back
at the Barki invaders with renewed fervor. They set up a rank of archers that began using oil-filled sacks tied to flaming arrows as bombs, and the morale of Kalema’s forces began to fade quickly.

  The Lord Councilor shouted over his shoulder, “We’ve got to get some troops to take care of those archers. Any ideas?” Before he heard a response, he felt a stabbing pain within his rib cage. He looked down to see a knife hilt sticking out of his side and realized he had been attacked from behind. He felt an odd sensation spread from the wound and his head began to swirl as his mind raced. He thought that Kalema had been right behind him. Had he gotten separated from the rest of the forces? Was he that deep into Revian lines? The questions came and went until he heard a voice whisper in his ear, and he knew exactly what had happened.

  “Forgive me, Onion Lord. We were contracted by one who came before you. This will weigh on my heart, but Barkus must stand by our code.” Atheme tried to turn so he could defend himself from his betrayer, but too quickly he felt the heavy weight of a club crash into the back of his skull, and he sank into blackness.

  Kalema gathered up the fallen man and sounded a retreat. The Barki efficiently turned and began backing up the wall and spilling down their siege ladders on the other side. Their king found Abaddon, who was drenched in blood, and explained to him what was happening.

  “We have to get out of here,” he shouted over the chaos. “They’re using those arrow bombs on us and we’re outnumbered. By the time we handle the bomb problem we’re going to be nearly wiped out.”

  Abaddon looked at the man hanging limply over Kalema’s arm. “What happened to Atheme?” he shouted as he turned and cut more Revians in half.

  “Shrapnel from one of the bombs hit his head and someone stabbed him in the side before I could help. He’s going to need medical attention. I think they poisoned him.”

  The man showed no expression, but nodded in agreement. He charged into the enemy forces, “Get him out. I’ll hold them back as long as I can.”

  Kalema shook his head as the mystic’s twin blades added to his kill count. “I’m glad I didn’t have to try to take that one out,” he muttered to himself, then disappeared over the wall and headed for the ship.

  * * * * *

  Abaddon sat by Atheme’s makeshift bedside watching over him. The injured man had been moved down into a hammock near the center of the ship, to minimize the motion to which he was exposed. Abaddon had verified Kalema’s hypothesis, and his master was indeed under the influence of some potent poisons. He still had not treated his own wounds, but they had mostly closed and he felt only a little pain when he moved about.

  He considered that he may have overexerted himself the last few minutes of the battle. After learning of his Lord’s injury, he had charged deep into the Revian forces and killed four dozen soldiers, taking two close blasts from exploding arrows before finally retreating back to shore, where he found Kalema awaiting in the last rowboat.

  He wished he had been there when Atheme had needed him. He wished he had learned white magic when he had studied as a Templar. He wished desperately that he could do something to help his friend. But he could do nothing. His only proficiency was killing, and he knew it. For the first time in his life, he regretted it.

  Kalema entered the room and sat on a stool. He took a swig of rum and lit up a cigarette. “We’re well underway back to your homeland. We’re headin’ north, because there’s an inlet to the Tepindus we can use. Since we’ll be going with the current it will probably cut the trip down by about a month. I reckon we’ll make anchor in that port town of yours, then be on our way back to Barkus, if there’s no objections with you.”

  The knight shook his head. “I extend Atheme’s thanks to you, as he is unable to do so himself. I know that our loss was not your fault. We continue to underestimate this opponent.”

  Kalema puffed on his cigarette and gave the man a strange look. “I don’t know what to tell ya, son. I’ve seen the country, and they ain’t that tough. But it’s hard to wage a war against a people that’s over a month away no matter how you go about getting at them.”

  Abaddon stared at the floor between his feet. “Atheme will think of something. I’ll get him back to Felthespar and the Lord Cardinal will take care of him. Once he’s recovered he’ll come up with another plan.”

  The king leaned forward and stroked his chin. “What if he doesn’t recover?” Abaddon looked up, but his face was expressionless. “We’re a long ways away from your home, and don’t know what kind of poison he’s got in him. What if he dies before we get there?”

  “Then I will make it my personal mission to see the entire nation of Revian razed to the ground,” he said in a calm, steady voice that froze the blood in Kalema’s veins. “I will not leave even a single child alive. None will escape my vengeance.”

  The man swallowed and crushed his cigarette out in his hand. “Aye. I see that.” He stood and headed back up onto the deck. Abaddon stayed where he was, letting his rage pour over him, clenching his fists until they bled.

  * * * * *

  Once on deck, Kalema called a meeting of his officers in the captain’s quarters. His first officer spoke up. “What’s it going to be, King Dijar? Do we kill them both now and take the ship?”

  Kalema placed his war club on the table. “We fulfilled our contract. Atheme Tethen is incapacitated, as promised. We will put his boat back where it belongs and return to our homeland.”

  Complaints started to arise. “We never signed a contract saying we wouldn’t steal any boats! We fought the battle, now I say this ship ought to go home with us! As a keepsake, that’s all.”

  He silenced them with a swift move of his hand. “We only disabled one of them, remember? Daemon down there is the most fearsome warrior I’ve ever seen. You saw what Atheme did to our behemoth, right?” Everyone nodded. “Abaddon is every bit as strong as Atheme, but he’s a hundred times as violent and cruel. If he knew that we were the ones who had poisoned his friend he’d be killing us off ten at a time even as we speak. If we’re going to get off this boat with our lives, we’re going to have to play it cool and not slip up around him.”

  The officers could see a legitimate fear in Kalema’s eyes. That alone was enough to make them realize how much danger they were in, so there were no further objections. Their king nodded. “Good. Keep in mind that I’m still in charge here, and anyone who crosses me will pay with his head.”

  * * * * *

  Relm Sarin sat atop Felthespar’s front wall watching the forest to the south. She was not actually on sentry duty, but she had brought herself up a basket of food and a spear she had borrowed from one of the guards, and she was pretending her heart out. Jessandra had come up to join her and was thoroughly enjoying the game. Relm had spent a lot of time the last few days watching out for Atheme’s return, and she tried the best she could to make the time pass.

  As she and Jessandra chatted away she heard footsteps behind her, and turned to see Cildar ascend the top of the steps. Relm was relieved to see that Myris was not with him. She had still not gotten over her incident with the Cain, and there were questions for which she could not find answers. She wished to ignore them and hope they went away.

  Cildar removed his helmet and mask and gave his wife a kiss, then leaned against the wall. “So, you two war dogs up here reminiscing about old battles?” he said with a charming grin on his tanned face.

  “Oh my yes,” Jessandra answered. “Why, Relm and I were just talking about that time that we single-handedly, not to mention unarmed, slew an entire army of, er... what was it, Relm?”

  Relm thought hard in mock seriousness for a moment. “Oh, let me see, there have just been so many of them. Umm... mackerel!”

  Jessandra nodded. “Yes! That’s it! Mackerel. One of the deadliest of all demonspawn, and we slew them ourselves, we did.”

  Cildar stared at them in disbelief for a moment, then suddenly started laughing so hard he scared the two girls. He tried to say som
ething, but more laughter came, and he had to walk away for a moment. His eyes started tearing up and he almost tripped and fell back down the stairs. Relm and Jessandra exchanged confused glances. “I didn’t think we were that funny,” Relm commented.

  Her cohort shrugged. “My husband is weird.” She shouted over to him, “Hey dummy! What’s wrong with you?”

  He stumbled back over and managed to steady himself. He wiped the tears from his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he managed to say slowly, “Mackerel aren’t demonspawn, sweetheart. They’re fish. A species of fish that you can catch in Jegan, usually between one and two feet long. They’re good for eating, but they’re hardly the scourge of Felthespar.”

  Relm and Jessandra exchanged glances, then all three of them started laughing. After everyone had settled down, Cildar sat shaking his head. “You two are a mess. I’ve got to admit, it does feel good to laugh. I wish Atheme had been here for this one.”

  The smile dropped off of Relm’s face. “It’s been months since he left, Cildar. Do you think he’s okay?”

  He waved a hand in the air. “If Atheme Tethen and Abaddon Daemon encountered something they couldn’t handle, we might as well burn the city to the ground, because we’re all doomed.” He saw by the serious look on the young herald’s face that she had not found this amusing, so he quickly changed tact. “Atheme is more capable of taking care of himself than any man I’ve ever met. He’s brilliant and knows how to get himself out of danger before it’s too late. And Abaddon would kill or die for Atheme in a cold second, and there are very few things alive that have a chance at fending off our Destroyer. Atheme is safer out there than we are here in Felthespar right now.”

  Relm nodded. “You’re right. I’m sure he’ll come back soon.”

  The three sat and talked for an hour more, then the paladin said he had to meet Myris for some training. An hour later Jessandra left too, saying she had dinner plans with Cildar and wanted to tidy up. Relm was left alone, and stayed on the wall waiting patiently for her love to return.