Bitter Wars- Ashes

by Kerriann Burns

  Most likely, she thought. It does give off a foul stench. She looked up at the wall that was unguarded and pressed forward, the village was like the many other small villages she had come across. Thatched wooden cottages lined the dirt track, animals such as chickens and stray dogs walked freely but there was one thing that stood out compared to other villages, there were hardly any women and barely any children in sight. Men worked in their industries, all giving her a foreboding glance as she rode through. Groups of hardened men stared up at her as she passed which made her sink deeper into her cloak, she quickly noticed an inn with a stable out front, she could rest here and gather her thoughts. Adonia dismounted her horse and approached the stable, she looked around and saw a young, teenage elven boy who was clearing out a used stall of the stable.

  ‘Excuse me.’ she called out gently. The boy quickly looked over his shoulder and with a quick shake of his brown bangs over his bright green eyes he replied with a gentle smile, compared to the hardened bandits she had seen in this village, the boy offered a sense of innocence and kindness. ‘May I keep my horse here? Only for a while.’

  ‘You’ll have to talk to my Da the innkeeper, his name’s Barmic, but I’ll take him off your hands while you speak to him, oh and don’t worry I struggle to understand him too sometimes.’ he said with a smile, she thanked him and looked up at the sign before she entered, “The Civil Man” with a picture of a finely dressed noble drinking wine, Adonia couldn’t tell if this sign was ironic or sarcastic given the nature of this place but she took a deep breath and entered. As she walked into the tavern the stench of strong alcohol invaded her nose, upbeat music of drums, fiddles, pipes and lutes played in the background. Men laughed and violently smashed their tankards against the table, others played games, some of which she had never seen before, and scantily clad dressed women threaded through the men, smiling, tempting them upstairs. Adonia nervously approached the bar and looked around, the place seemed friendly enough she was just not used to the people here.

  ‘Whit’s yer poison lass?’ she looked around quickly, but no one was there. ‘Doon ‘ere.’ her eyes quickly looked down to see a dwarf, she was taken aback by the man, never before had she seen a dwarf in person. He stared up at her with warm eyes, his mahogany coloured beard neatly platted, he stood up on steps that lined the bar to get a better look at her. ‘Dinnae of’en get bonnie lasses up ‘ere, especially by themselves. Important business bein’ up ‘ere?’

  ‘…I guess you could say that.’ She said shyly, still hiding behind the depths of her cloak. The dwarf squinted his eyes at her, enough to make her worried.

  ‘Wait…’ he said as he examined her face. ‘By the Divines’ great flaming arses, yer Adonia Hardgrave!’ he hissed in a hushed whisper, Adonia quickly looked around to see if anyone heard him, but he only chuckled. ‘Dinnae worry lass, barely any of these dobbers cannae read, let alone recognise a royal, but whit in blazes are ye doin’ ‘ere? Damn world thought ye died.’

  ‘…It’s a long story sir…I have a horse here and I was told to ask a Barmic about a stay here.’

  ‘Well yer speaking tae him, Barmic Brightaxe at yer service.’ Adonia gave a smile which quickly faded.

  ‘But…I don’t have any money to give you…’

  ‘Ye need naw worry aboot it, Divines’ sake everyone thought ye was deed, now A have the rightful Queen of Alexander at me humble establishment, ye need a room tae stay too?’

  ‘…If that’s at all possible.’

  ‘Course it’s possible.’ he began to chuckle. ‘A own an inn in the fuckin’ Badlands Am hardly gaunnae roll around in gold.’ his comment made Adonia laugh slightly. ‘Which is yer horse n A’ll make sure he’s treated like a king.’

  ‘His name is Midnight, he’s the large black horse.’

  ‘Midnight? The fabled Greymire’s steed?’ Adonia pulled back the side of her lip, giving a sad side smile, Barmic realised her discomfort on the subject. ‘Jenny!’ he called out to a woman, she gazed up at him slightly, her eyes beamed along with her smile, even when she was disturbed from her customers. ‘Gang tell wee Arthur tae ready the stable fae the biggest black horse oot there.’ she gave a quick nod and walked outside. ‘Still care fae a poison?’ she looked at Barmic slightly concerned but he only chuckled. ‘Unfortunately, A dinnae have any fine wine, but yer’ll get the best watered doon piss this side of the Badlands.’

  ‘Sure.’ she giggled. He poured her out a tankard of ale and slid it in front of her, she looked down at the liquid and could barely remember the time when she last drank, she took a careful sip and began to cough, this was much stronger than she had ever had before.

  ‘Give ye some hairs on ye chest, family secret recipe.’ he smiled and gave a wink. ‘Tell me…Addie.’ He paused with the idea of the nickname. ‘Whit brings ye all the way oot tae this shite hole?’

  ‘…Griffiths…I need to get to Griffiths, but I can’t exactly walk through the front door.’

  ‘Join the club.’ he chuckled as he began to wipe a tankard with a rag. ‘Daily hunts oot fae the bastard, but…If ye wannae get tae Griffiths, person ye need tae talk tae is Fenrir.’

  ‘Who’s Fenrir?’

  ‘Your fuckin’ kind don’t belong here!’ their conversation was quickly broken by a rude customer behind them, on a table sat a lone elf, nothing like Adonia had seen before, his white hair just touched his shoulders and slightly hid his face. He wore hardened black leather clothing, built for battle, but left arm was covered in a mixture of tattoos and scars. The elf completely ignored the man who stood over him while he simply drank, as he went to take a sip of his drink the man spat in his tankard. The elf didn’t even look at the man, he just put his drink back down on the table, all without uttering a word. ‘Why don’t you go back to the forest where you belong! You filthy tree fucking fairy!’ suddenly his eyes quickly locked onto the man, he thrusted his elbow into the man’s stomach and with a swift and single movement while the man was hunched over he swung his enormous sword down, completely decapitating him. The crowd stared on in horror, women screamed and backed away, but the elf only sat back down and tilted his tankard toward himself to look at the liquid. He glanced over to a barmaid and pointed at the dead man.

  ‘He owes me a drink.’ she nervously approached, shaking as she took away the ruined drink and placing a fresh one on the table.

  The elf leaned back in his chair and continued to drink as if nothing had even happened, the crowd continued to stare at him, even the more hardened men were frightened of this elf.

  ‘Boys!’ Barmic called out, a small workforce came from behind the bar to remove the body, Barmic shook his head and continued cleaning a tankard. ‘That’s Fenrir.’ Adonia only responded with a horrified glare as her jaw dropped at the spectacle. ‘He lives ‘ere, found him a couple of years back, that’s him on a good day.’ Adonia stared back at the dwarf in shock.

  “On a good day” she thought, the man just killed someone and barely showed any sign of remorse, but as she looked back at the elf, she recognised something, his eyes. ‘Ye better clean that Fen!’ Barmic yelled but the only thing to move were the elf’s eyes as he glanced up from his drink. Adonia stood back from the bar and went to approach him. ‘Whitever ye dae, dinnae say anything tae piss him off.’ She acknowledged Barmic’s words but continued to approach the elf named Fenrir.

  ‘Excuse me.’ the only thing to move were his green eyes that gazed up at her, his tankard still at his lips but the look was enough to acknowledge her presence. ‘May I sit with you?’ he looked down at the chair in front of himself then back up at her, before lowering his drink.

  ‘If you must.’ his very voice made her shiver, masculine without being overpowering, like smoke his voice felt as if it caressed her.

  ‘You were the man who saved me.’

  ‘I see you didn’t heed my warning; you must either be very brave or stupid.’

  ‘I…I was told you could help me get to Griffiths.’ He glared at her onc
e more, just sitting there in complete silence. Her eyes shifted slightly, a silent gesture to urge him to talk.

  ‘And what do you want with Griffiths?’ Adonia flicked her hood back, leaned forward slightly and hushed her words.

  ‘I do not know if you know me…My name is Adonia Hardgrave and Griffiths was the one who ordered the death of my family.’ Fenrir gave a slow exhale from his nose as he looked away from her then took a gentle gulp from his drink.

  ‘You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into coming here’. Not a moment later a bell began to ring outside, some of the men jumped to their feet while others held sombre looks of hate and disgust, Adonia looked around quickly then gazed into the eyes of the elf sitting opposite her. ‘You better hide noblewoman.’ he said coldly as he stood from his chair, drink still in hand as he made his way upstairs.

  ‘Addie! Quickly follow me.’ Barmic said as he grabbed her wrist and led her to behind the bar where several of the women staff crowded behind. The woman Adonia recognised as Jenny quickly moved an empty wooden barrel which revealed a trap door and forced the heavy door up with one hand.

  ‘Barmic what’s going on?’ Adonia panicked.

  ‘Naw time get doon there!’ one of the girls quickly grasped her hand and pulled her down into the hidden cellar, dragging her away into the darkness. She couldn’t see a thing, but it reeked down in the dark, a musky damp stench invaded her nose and lungs, she felt heavy and the cramped space of the women pressing against her did not help. The unfamiliar woman squeezed Adonia’s hand which forced her to do the same, Adonia went to speak but a hand quickly covered her mouth before any words could escape. Heavy footprints walked across the floor above, Adonia could still hear the muffled sound of music and idle chatter, desperately she tried to listen and make out any conversation that may help her to understand her predicament.

  ‘Where are all the whores at?’ a grainy voice bellowed out angrily.

  ‘Naw whores in this establishment, this is an inn naw a brothel.’

  ‘I want to see all your staff!’

  ‘Whit ye see ‘ere is all A have, naw girls ‘ere.’ she could just barely understand any muffled words the grainy voice spoke, whatever he was saying he sounded angry.

  ‘You mean to tell me this whole damned village has nothing but men? Makes me sick!’

  ‘Maybe the women got scared off.’

  ‘Excuse me? Do you have any idea who you’re talking to!?’

  ‘A rude arse who A’d like tae leave me establishment, there’s nothing ‘ere fae ye so leave’. There was a scream of a woman outside.

  ‘Hiding like rats I see.’ Adonia desperately wanted to see what was going on but the women kept her still, even in the darkness she could feel their fear. Footsteps rushed across the floorboards above and left the building, the woman’s screaming continued alongside a man’s, even with the muffled yells Adonia heard the man’s yells cut short, the woman continued to scream, but slowly the noise began to fade away until there was nothing but silence. They all hid down the cellar in complete silence until another bell tolled, a few moments later the hatch was flung open and they saw the light of day once more. The bright light burnt her eyes, but she joined the others as they all climbed out and resumed their work in the tavern. Barmic gave a helping hand and hoisted her out of the cellar.

  ‘Who was it this time?’ Barmic called out to the gathered crowd outside.

  ‘My fucking brother!’ they crowded around the body while a young man paced angrily back and forth, running his hand through his thick black hair before throwing himself forward angrily. Adonia looked at the man who had a body shape similar to Greymire’s; broad shouldered and quite muscular. In some faint way she hoped that it would be him, by some bizarre miracle he was alive but no, his face wasn’t as slender nor his eyes blue.

  ‘Blacksmith.’ Barmic hushed to her. ‘Whit ye want us tae dae?’ the man sighed as he took one last look at the body and waved his hand.

  ‘Same as everyone else.’ A few men picked up the body and the crowd followed. Adonia nervously watched what they were going to do, but it was here she realised what that pit in the distance was for. It wasn’t just for waste; it was for the disposal of bodies. Hundreds of them piled up, mainly men contorted into unimaginable shapes, some their skin an inhuman colour of death.

  So many…So many…

  Her expression turned cold as her skin grew pale, the images of the soldiers all around her started to flood back, the stench of iron and smoke, the decay, the blood.

  ‘Come on.’ Barmic snapped her back to reality as he took her hand and led her away from the site.

  ‘Why…Why keep a massive pit for the dead? Should they not have funerals?’ she gasped as she tried to regain some composure. Barmic only shook his head.

  ‘That bell ye heard, that’s the only warning that the soldiers are comin’ a lot of folk dinnae have time tae react n just like him…If they fight, they die. It happens so of’en we gave up on burying ‘em, so the pit was made.’ He took her back to the tavern and gestured to a table to sit down with her. ‘That’s why we hunt Griffiths.’ he looked out to the working women within the tavern. ‘Soldiers come at random, take our wummin back tae the castle…Most of these men are lucky tae see their wives or daughters ever again…If they de come back…Divine the thing’s they’ve been through, one wee girl found oot she was pregnant…Lass was so ashamed she killed ‘erself, husband soon followed.’

  ‘And…This is allowed to happen? How long has this gone on for?’

  ‘Since the present lord got comfy, everyone ken he gets first pickings, the soldiers get the leftovers.’

  ‘…Why stay?’

  ‘It’s our hame lass, our fathers and father’s fathers lived ‘ere. Naw only that, but just look at these lads.’ Adonia looked on at the men who looked like nothing more than thugs, no different from the men that tried to assault her. ‘Would ye like tae see these men walkin’ aroond yer quaint wee toons?’

  ‘But this can’t go on, maybe if the King knew.’

  ‘We’re dead to the nobles.’ The pair looked up at the railing, Fenrir stood overhead, drink still in hand. He took a single sip and carried on walking down the stairs. ‘Nobles don’t care about us, they never did. Were no better than the dirt under their boots.’

  ‘That’s not true.’

  ‘Then tell me this if were so valued.’ he said as he leaned his hands against the table, leaning in close to her. ‘What’s this village’s name?’ her eyes shifted as she looked down, she had no idea. ‘You see? Around here this is just the Badlands and it always will be in your eyes.’

  ‘Fen…’ Barmic sighed. ‘She ain’t like Griffiths.’

  ‘And how do you know? She’s only been here five minutes and already you know she’s a saint, they’re all the same.’

  ‘I lived amongst your nomad kind for years I am no longer a noblewoman!’ Adonia yelled at him in elvish, he screwed his face up slightly, a confused and yet almost angry expression.

  ‘…What?’

  ‘You…You can’t speak elvish?’ he kept his expression as he stepped back from the table and returned upstairs, but not before ruffling the hair of the young elven boy who assisted Adonia earlier which made him smile. The lad joined them at the table which made Barmic give a beaming smile.

  ‘Addie this is me son, Arthur.’ She raised her eyebrow slightly. ‘Adopted of course. Found him as a wee bairn n took him under me wing.’

  ‘Is that what “Da” means?’ she asked innocently which made them both chuckle.

  ‘Da means Dad, ye ken father, ol’ man, sounds a bit weird when ye hear it from his gob.’ They laughed again, Adonia could see where he was coming from especially with his thick accent the word just seemed to roll of his tongue whereas Arthur had a pure Alexandrian accent making the word sound foreign to him but it was just an affectionate calling that stuck.

  ‘A pleasure.’ She smiled. ‘Any relation to him?’ she gestured towards the stair
s where Fenrir retreated.

  ‘Fen? No, no…I think it’s because we’re the only elves here, he looks after me, always has ever since I met him.’

  ‘So why is he the one to talk to?’

  ‘He’s the only one ever tae get intae Griffiths’ castle n live tae tell the tale.’

  ‘So, what’s his history with Griffiths to go after him?’

  ‘Hatred of nobles A guess, he’s been ‘ere oh nearly six years noo?’ Barmic said as he looked to Arthur who replied with a brisk nod. ‘Never spoke a word of it.’

  ‘I guess I’ll try again.’ She sighed. ‘Where does he stay?’

  ‘Last room on the left, just be careful alright?’ she gave a slight smile at his warning then walked up the aging stairs.

  The halls were narrow and filled with sounds and smells that gave her a feeling of unease and disgust. She could hear the women at work, smell the foul stench of bodily fluids mixed with the heavy stench of Barmic’s family brew. She coughed slightly but made her way to the narrow hall and saw the room she looked for, Adonia took a deep breath and knocked on the door. No answer.

  ‘Fenrir, I need to talk to you.’ It didn’t take long before the door unlocked and opened to his unsatisfied gaze.