by J. M. Topp
‘They’ve seen us,’ said Coda, guiding his mare beside Elymiah.
‘How?’ asked Amelinne. ‘We are well hidden.’
‘That doesn’t matter,’ said Coda, ‘They know we are here. Look, already they have begun a formation.’
He was right. Despite the aloof manner in which they seemed to march, Elymiah could see they were moving into a defensive triangle formation, and though one of them cracked a joke, causing a ripple of laughter in the group, she noticed him notch an arrow to his bow.
She sighed. ‘I’ll talk to them.’
‘No,’ said Coda, bringing his horse in front of hers.
‘Excuse me?’
‘Just wait,’ said Coda. After he said this, he whistled loudly. Lord Bearohd’s men drew their weapons but walked calmly up to Elymiah and her men. Wischard stood before them with sword at his side. His dark eyes were a stark contrast to the paleness of his skin, but they pierced into Elymiah like a scalpel. The caravan stopped, and Wischard dismounted, drew his sword, and eyed the travellers.
‘Coda, what are you doing with this woman in your presence?’ asked Wischard.
‘I have pledged myself to her side. I am her sword, Wischard,’ said Coda simply.
‘Traitor,’ hissed the albino man. He raised his weapon and prepared to attack. The men with him in the caravan did the same.
‘No. I am free to choose whom to serve.’ Coda unsheathed his sword as well.
‘Were a free man. You can’t say you are now,’ Wischard pointed out.
Coda ignored the statement and looked over the carts. ‘So it is true, Lord Bearohd attacked Karagh Muín.’
Wischard nodded and spat on the ground. ‘Aye, it was a quick battle, but there are still pockets of resistance in the castle.’
‘The fighting is still going on?’ asked Elymiah.
‘Aye,’ said Wischard, glancing down. ‘The battle would have been over sooner, but Lord Bearohd didn’t want us to fight. He wanted only his elites and bodyguards to participate while we stayed back to watch.’
‘That must be tough on you, watching them slaughter old men and queer boys. To have to be treated as a glorified guard,’ said Coda.
Wischard clenched his blackened teeth. ‘What are you implying, Coda?’
‘Karagh Muín would have been an impressive conquest one hundred years ago when the strength of the Veledred was just beginning to wane. Now, it must be terribly embarrassing to have entered the castle but still not be able to say it is your victory. You are now made to babysit a caravan of goods back to Saltkire Hold. I feel shame for you.’
‘Bastard. Get down from that horse and I’ll show you shame.’ Wischard reached for his weapon.
Coda held his hand in the air. ‘Friend. We need not fight each other. I will tell you this: there is more honour in siding with the Veledred than in keeping in line with Lord Bearohd. His time is up.’
‘There is no honour in betrayal.’ Wischard sneered.
‘There is no betrayal in being free. Lord Bearohd never made us swear oaths of fealty; therefore, we are free to follow whomever we please as the Golden Edict of our people dictates,’ said Coda.
The albino man glanced at his sides. ‘So what, I’m to join you and fight my own kinsmen?’
‘Not all of them, no. Only Lord Bearohd and his close-knit group of guards. They have made this choice easy for you. The others will have a choice, to join us or die.’
Wischard glanced at Elymiah. ‘I will not follow the Veledred.’
Coda smiled. ‘You will not have to. You will follow me and only me. I am declaring myself Keeper of the Reef.’
‘Under whose authority?’
Coda drew his sword and ran his finger along the edge of the blade. ‘By the authority of Lord Bearohd’s spilt blood.’
Wischard smiled. ‘You cannot so easily claim our loyalty, Coda. Lord Bearohd still draws breath. However, we will not attack you.’ The albino man sheathed his weapon, as did the others with him. ‘The men of Saltkire Hold follow strength and prowess in battle. If you defeat Lord Bearohd in combat, we will pledge ourselves to you, but only then.’
One of the other men laughed. ‘Lord Bearohd against Coda? This will be good.’
‘When was the last time Lord Bearohd had a fair fight?’
‘His only fight lately has been against erectile dysfunction,’ said another. They all howled with laughter at that. Wischard went red in the face and nervously looked at his men. His white eyebrows lowered over his eyes. Coda smiled and shrugged at him.
Wischard spat on the ground. ‘Godsbedamned. So be it, Coda. You want to run along and challenge the Lord of the Reef, so be it, but it’s your head. You saw what he did to your woman friend.’
‘I don’t think so, Wischard. When I defeat Bearohd and become Lord of the Reef, however, I will have you swear oaths.’ Coda flashed a smile. ‘I can’t have you turning on me.’
Wischard shook his head.
Elymiah, Theodric, and Amelinne dismounted, walked to the carts, and pulled out swords and armour for themselves. A reflection caught Elymiah’s eye—a chestplate with a silver angel emblazoned on the front. She touched the chestplate and saw that an entire Holy Silver Angels Platoon armour set was there among the other armour and weapons. It was the same set she had seen in Zignumerand’s study when she first arrived at Karagh Muín.
‘They were taking anything of value back to Saltkire Hold,’ said Theodric as he pulled a sword from the cart and inspected the edge. ‘They were stealing it.’
Wischard rolled his eyes and walked over to his men.
‘Everyone take the best that Karagh Muín has to offer. I want no one left without armour or a weapon,’ said Elymiah as she handed an iron chestplate to Amelinne.
‘Are we really going to fight them back?’ she asked, nervously strapping on a thin chestplate.
‘It’s your home, Amelinne,’ said Elymiah.
‘Our home, Elymiah. You’re one of us now,’ said Amelinne.
Elymiah looked back at the silver armour. It was heavier than the set she had been given in Aivaterra, which meant it had belonged to a knight-captain who lived long ago. She unclasped her cloak and let it fall into the dirt. She slipped on a chainmail shirt, and Amelinne helped strap the chestplate onto her body. Elymiah put the silver shin guards and greaves onto her legs. Then she strapped the gauntlet to her forearm. Chainmail dangled loosely from her amputated arm. She would most likely have to tie it so it wouldn’t make too much noise. She could only wear one pauldron, but the other couldn’t be found anyway, so it was just as well.
She twisted her neck and arm, letting the weight of the armour settle on her body. She closed her eyes and sighed. For a moment, she was there on the hill long ago, staring over the edge of the Kingsoul River. The torrential current frothed and beckoned for her to jump in. The feeling of fear draped itself around her neck as she plunged into the frigid water. She opened her eyes and stared at the dirt road as Amelinne and some of the other men of Saltkire Hold armoured themselves.
Elymiah sat down on a crate and held an iron longsword over her lap. She touched the bevel of the sword with a gauntleted hand.
‘I found this in the second cart.’
She looked up to see Theodric holding a metal arm. ‘This is the first one I made just to see if I could make one. It’s not as good as the second I made for you, but it will do the trick. It will hold a shield or a sword adequately enough. When we take the castle back, I will make another for you—one that’s even better.’
The iron was thick, and runes were etched into the metal just like they had been on Alamánd. Elymiah would miss that sword. It was a beautiful weapon, but its place was with Artus, wherever he was now.
‘Thank you, Theodric.’
‘Allow me, Commandant,’ said Theodric. He strapped the metal arm over her shoulder within the chainmail, and he tightened the leather belts over her chest and under her armpit. Immediately, Elymiah felt a strange sensation creep over her body. She flexed the
metallic fingers as the runes in the arm glowed faintly. Theodric had been right. The runes were not very receptive to her thoughts, and it seemed as if marmalade had been stuck in the joints. Yet she was able to move it without much difficulty after a few minutes, albeit slowly. She stood up and picked up a grey leather shield. She held the shield to her side. Amelinne looked at her from beneath a half-helm, and Theodric wore a training uniform with a spear in his hands. The other dozen men of Saltkire Hold rallied behind Coda.
‘Let’s move,’ said Elymiah as they abandoned the oxcarts and began to make their way toward the besieged mountain castle.
KARAGH MUÍN STOOD tall beside the mountain in which it lay entombed. The castle fortress could hardly be seen coming in by sea, but by land, the towers and parapets stood out as if the sculptor of the mount had forgotten to embed rock around its spires. Elymiah eyed the black towers cautiously. Smoke was rising in the air from within the mountain, making it look like a volcano. She put her hand over her eyes and saw two of Bearohd’s men standing beside the entrance into the castle. She turned to Coda and gestured to him.
‘Follow me,’ whispered Coda.
He led Elymiah and the others away from the path into the dense trees and thick bushes of the forest. Elymiah struggled to keep her footing in the rough terrain, but before too long, they reached a hidden entrance. This was most likely where Bearohd and his men had infiltrated Karagh Muín.
Without a word, Coda motioned for them to follow him. Elymiah shivered as she entered the castle. She had forgotten how much cooler the inside of Karagh Muín was in contrast to the Isles of Brume. A breath of wind surged past them, brushing lightly against her ear-length hair. She gripped her sword, prepared to engage in combat at any moment.
The sounds of steel clashing against steel echoed to her ears. Coda unsheathed his sword, as did Amelinne, Theodric, and the men of Saltkire Hold behind them. Elymiah smelt blood first, a copper and metallic taste in the air that brought fire her to her senses honed by years of training and combat. The floor was spattered with blood. They reached the end of the hall and Coda stopped just before the corner. He peered around the end and motioned to the others to follow. As they turned the corner, Elymiah saw bodies garbed in green and covered in blood. She couldn’t tell if one of them was a man or woman, as the torso had been cleaved clean off from the legs. Two other bodies were torn much in the same fashion.
‘What could have left bodies looking like that?’ asked Amelinne, too stunned to take her eyes away from the horrid scene of gore.
Coda glanced back. ‘Lord Bearohd’s sword, the Spirit-breaker, was a Veledred weapon imbued with olden magic. If it touches flesh, it is certain to cleave through anything with incredible ease.’
‘Great,’ muttered Theodric.
‘Stick close to me,’ said Elymiah, then nodding to Coda. ‘We need to catch up to them.’
Coda led them through the castle halls.
More bodies. Some were full of arrows, and others had sword wounds. A few of them were cleaved in half like the bodies they had seen before. They entered the Hall of Uldvarog. Tables were overturned, and bowls of soup and bread littered the floors, their spilt contents stepped on. Bodies were strewn throughout the hall.
‘They didn’t even have a chance,’ muttered Theodric. ‘They attacked them while they ate, the bastards.’
‘Bearohd will pay, Theodric,’ whispered Amelinne, clenching her fists. Elymiah bit her lip, and they walked through the Hall of Uldvarog, the sounds of war and death growing louder and louder.
Finally, Coda stopped and held his hand up. Elymiah walked up beside him and looked down the hall that led to the Initiate Grounds. A breeze blew against her face. She walked to the end of the hall and stood at the edge of the grotto.
Bodies of Veledred and Saltkire Holdian alike littered the ground. At the far end of the grotto was a line of at least twenty armoured men. They had their backs facing Elymiah and were huddled behind a line of sandbags and spiked wooden spears. Their boulder-like armour made them seem like a formation of stones, but then one of them shouted something. Elymiah realised they were the Saltkire Hold elites painted in brown and grey, and opposite the sandbags and spiked wooden spears were the remnants of the Veledred. She steeled herself.
Two Veledred leaned over the edge and shot their arrows at the Holdians. Then a Holdian shot back, piercing the man in the head with two crossbow bolts. Then a man taller than the Holdians around him, garbed in stone-like armour, stood up holding one hand in the air.
The Lord of the Reef was unmistakable.
‘Give up, you bastards!’ shouted Lord Bearohd, pointing a massive stone-like sword at them. ‘You are surrounded and without course to escape. You will die. Ease your own suffering.’
Silence reigned as the battlefield seemed to go still suddenly. Then a voice that Elymiah could barely hear sounded from behind the barrier.
‘Go fuck yourself!’
Lord Bearohd looked down at the ground and laughed. Then, his face turned bright red. He raised his sword and, with a shout, rushed the barricade. Elymiah knew there was not a moment to lose. If they didn’t make haste, the Holdians would murder the remaining Veledred. Without turning around or saying a word, she rushed the Holdians. She held her weapon with both hands above her head.
The rustling of armour and fatigued breathing behind Elymiah confirmed she was not alone, but her eyes were steeled on the formation of Holdians who were attacking the Veledred. The barricaded daemon hunters saw this and, much to the surprise of the Holdians, jumped from their barricades with screams, striking the Holdians head-on. Elymiah tore at the ground and levelled her sword. A shout rose from her throat almost without thought. Two of the Holdians turned with a surprised look on their faces.
They died with that look as Elymiah jumped into the air and jabbed at one’s exposed neck, piercing through his collarbone and chest cavity. She then kicked the dying man to the ground and swung at the other man’s face, cutting him from left eye to jaw. The man fell in a heap, screaming and kicking. Blood dripped from her sword as she knelt and sliced his neck. She reared back and punched another Holdian in the face, crushing his bones in her metal fist. He fell limp onto the grass.
Another Holdian attacked Elymiah, raising his sword above her head. She deflected the blade downward and punched the Holdian’s helm with her metallic arm. The metal bent below her blow, and the Holdian screamed in his helm and fell to the ground holding his crushed face.
By that point, the Holdians realised they were being attacked on both sides, but Elymiah wasn’t going to give them time to think. She raced deeper within the Holdian line, a smile dancing on her lips. Blood splashed on her face where she slashed at one’s leg. The Holdian went down to one knee, and Elymiah sliced his head clean off. A spurt of blood burst into the air, and the man went down.
‘What’s the point of such heavy armour if there is no chainmail beneath?’ she said with a laugh. Her eyes were wide with pleasure. ‘I have fought and killed daemons, krakens, and giants. I forgot how easily humans die.’
Instinctively, she ducked, and a powerful blast of air surged over her head. She leaned low to the ground and dodged to the right as a blast of energy moved vertically beside her, cleaving through the soil.
‘Stay still!’ shouted Bearohd as he bent his knee and kicked at her. Elymiah put her gauntleted forearm before her and absorbed the blow. The kick sent her back a few paces.
‘Halt!’ screamed Lord Bearohd. His powerful voice behind the attacking party made the battle pause for a moment. Veledred on both sides stared at the Holdians. Elymiah counted fourteen remaining, including Lord Bearohd. She turned to the speaker and saw Coda walk from in between the line of Veledred. He raised his sword at Lord Bearohd.
‘Traitor,’ spat Bearohd.
‘Nay. I challenge you, Keeper of the Reef,’ said Coda, holding his sword levelled at Bearohd. The Holdians began to chuckle and laugh at Coda.
‘You always were a patheti
c excuse for a Holdian, Coda.’
‘Drop the trash talk, Bearohd. You always were an impotent prick.’
Lord Bearohd stopped laughing and clutched the hilt of his sword. ‘I will kill you first.’
Elymiah stepped back and let Coda face Lord Bearohd.
They began to circle each other, their eyes steeled to each other’s movements. Coda stepped carefully, keeping his centre of gravity close to the ground. Elymiah dug her sword into the grass and watched their movements.
Coda struck first. He swung his sword clumsily, not even looking for an opening in the lord's armour. Bearohd casually blocked the blow with his stone gauntlet and leapt at Coda, but Coda twirled out of the way, keeping his footing even. Coda jabbed at Bearohd’s exposed side. His balance was remarkable, just as Bearohd’s strength was impressive. Bearohd rolled so that Coda’s sword point struck at his boulder-like chestplate. Sparks flew from the strike. Immediately, Elymiah knew something was off. Coda and Lord Bearohd’s fighting style was identical. Elymiah realised that they used the same tactics to fight Veledred but never each other. She chewed her lip nervously as the two fighters paced around one another. Coda needed to use this knowledge against the Keeper of the Reef. But he merely continued to attack seemingly haphazardly, and Lord Bearohd merely blocked the blows. Coda was growing tired.
Elymiah saw a wrong movement of Coda’s footing, and then, Bearohd capitalized on the mistake, swinging his weapon at Coda’s abdomen. Coda leapt back, dodging a wide arc of grey from Spirit-breaker, but a trickle of blood dripped down his side. Bearohd smiled. Coda coughed, and blood spilt from his mouth.
‘You will die like a Veledred, Coda. Shit luck for you.’
Bearohd roared and raced at him, slamming his sword against Coda’s.
Elymiah grabbed her sword, but Wischard grabbed her shoulder, shaking his head.
‘Bearohd is going to kill him,’ protested Elymiah.
‘If he is to die, he is to die,’ said Wischard. ‘This is how it must be.’
Coda threw his weight to the left, throwing Bearohd off-balance. The Keeper of the Reef put his hand on the grass of the grotto and rolled away from a swing of Coda’s blade. Bearohd landed on his feet. He was too fast and too strong. Already Coda had suffered a grievous wound. The outcome of the fight was becoming clear to everyone.