The Ramshuk (Heirs of Legacy Book 3)

by Paul Lauritsen

  “These are the Black Hawks!” Carh protested. “Not some witless wandering warriors. You are talking about some of the finest soldiers ever to stalk prey in these mountains!”

  “Yet they are mortal,” Garnuk assured him. “I have killed many of them before.”

  Carh set his jaw and stared off into the distance, eyes blazing with righteous anger.

  “You have been manipulated,” Garnuk observed. “Forced into a path you do not want by the elders. And now, the safety of your people is at risk. Assuming that anything is possible . . . that the Black Hawks can be eliminated . . .”

  He trailed off expectantly, watching the Banuk chief. “What are you going to do about it?” he whispered finally.

  Carh straightened slightly, glancing at Garnuk. “I am chief of the Banuk,” he said slowly. “For my people, for my home, I will fight.”

  He rose to his feet, taking up his club. “Arm yourself, Exile. It is time to drive these parasites from my lands. And when I have finished with the Ramshuk’s pets, the council will have much to answer for.”

  “We cannot let anyone get away,” Garnuk pointed out quickly.

  “Then we will seal all exits from Banta Kodu,” Carh grunted determinedly. “Captain!”

  There was a pause, then a guard slipped through the outer door and into the room. “Yes, great chief?” he asked, saluting Carh respectfully.

  “Send messengers to every gate and tunnel out of this city. Have the Sentinels guard all passes. Do not let anyone out of Banta Kodu. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, chief,” the guard replied, bowing. “There is a vertag outside who wishes to speak with you.”

  “Who?” Carh snapped.

  “Lord Norgen.”

  “He is no lord,” Garnuk rumbled derisively.

  “Are there others with him?” Carh asked quietly, giving Garnuk a warning look.

  “Yes.”

  Carh waited for the guard to elaborate, but he did not. “How many?” he was finally forced to ask.

  “Nine, sir.”

  “That’s nearly all of them,” Garnuk observed. “Are there any warriors nearby you can gather to us?”

  “Not unobtrusively.”

  “Then send word to Koah and Tarq. Tell them to bring every one of my warriors.”

  “It will take time.”

  “It’s taking more while we stand here doing nothing.”

  “We need a diversion.”

  Garnuk looked around the council chamber. Ideally, there would be a place for him to hide while Carh stalled. That way they could trap the Black Hawks in the council chamber until Koah and Tarq arrived. But the walls were bare, and besides the raised dais and its attendant chairs there was no furniture in the room.

  “You can leave through the back exit,” Carh suggested.

  “No,” Garnuk murmured. “They likely know you have a visitor right now, and will wonder where he went.”

  “A good point. So, we invite them in?”

  “See if they will wait a few minutes.”

  The guard followed the entire exchange curiously, looking back and forth between the two leaders. Carh made a shooing gesture with his free hand, gesturing towards the door.

  “See if our esteemed guests will wait a few minutes while we finish our business. And send one of the other guards in to attend me.”

  The guard turned on his heel and went back through the door, disappearing with nary a sound. Garnuk sighed heavily and flexed his clawed hands, ready for battle. Carh glanced at him and smiled resolutely.

  “Easy, Exile. The time to fight is not yet here.”

  “But it will be soon. And when it is, I will be rid of these hunters once and for all.”

  “You are confident,” Carh observed.

  “The only alternative I have is death or torture,” Garnuk pointed out. “I have nothing to lose.”

  “And you will fight all the better for it,” Carh agreed.

  They fell silent as the outer door opened again and a different guard entered.

  “Lord Norgen – ”

  “He’s not a lord,” Garnuk muttered again. “Or a chief or an elder. Just a hunter. A thug.”

  “ – will wait, but not for long. He asks that you finish whatever business you are involved with quickly.”

  “Very well. Come here,” Carh snapped. “I have a message for you to carry.”

  The guard crossed to the raised hearth, looking up at Garnuk and Carh uncertainly. “Yes, great chief?”

  “Go to the upper levels, the old spy headquarters. You know where it is, yes?”

  “Yes.”

  “Go to the end of the hall and say that you have an urgent message for Shadow Squadron, tell them the general is in danger and needs all of his warriors.”

  “Yes, chief.”

  “Speak to no one, move quickly, and bring them in through the front door,” Carh instructed. “By then, we should be talking to Norgen already.”

  “You wish me to interrupt his audience with the arrival of these warriors?” the guard asked, just to be certain.

  “Absolutely,” Carh confirmed.

  The guard bowed low. “As you command.”

  Garnuk stayed silent throughout the exchange, knowing Carh would get results faster than he. The guard nodded perfunctorily to Garnuk, then left through the back exit at a brisk pace.

  “Now,” Carh said, grimacing. “We wait.”

  They sat in silence for several minutes. Garnuk stared into the fire, steeling himself for the coming fight. A heavy weight had settled inside of him, a foreign nervousness and doubt. He was not used to going into battle overmatched, but this was exactly what he was doing now.

  A log in the fire collapsed, sending up a shower of sparks. Garnuk’s gaze drifted, drawn by a swirling cluster of the glittering orange motes, and fell on Carh.

  The Banuk chief was sitting upright in his heavy chair, head tilted back, eyes closed. Sleeping? Garnuk looked closer and realized that although the chief appeared relaxed, his grip on the war club in his lap was firm. Meditating, perhaps? Garnuk watched curiously for a moment, then emulated the chief’s position, flattening his back against the chair and laying his drawn sword across his lap.

  The Exile worked to control his breathing, to steady his racing heart. He inhaled slowly, then released the pent-up breath, feeling a measure of the tension building within him depart as well. Smiling slightly, Garnuk repeated the process, emptying his mind of all distractions and doubts, focusing on what he knew he must do.

  As he did, Garnuk became aware of voices in the entrance hall of the stronghold. Voices which were quiet at first, but grew more and more intense with each passing moment. When the voices rose to shouts, Garnuk looked over at Carh. The Banuk chief’s eyes were open as well, studying the closed door.

  “It seems my guests are becoming rather agitated,” he observed. “It will not be long now. I had hoped your guards would join us before battle was joined.”

  “There’s still time,” Garnuk began. But he was cut off as the double doors slammed back on their hinges and a crowd of vertaga entered the room. The Exile flinched, hand flexing on the hilt of his sword.

  “Chief Carh!” the vertag in the lead shouted across the hall. “I apologize for the intrusion, but . . .” His voice trailed off as he glanced at Garnuk. Saw him. Recognized him for who and what he was.

  Garnuk smiled coldly at the Black Hawk leader. “Welcome, Norgen. Good to see you again.”

  The Black Hawks scowled at him, their hands resting on their weapons, as yet undrawn. Norgen stepped closer to the dais, raising his axe slightly.

  “How very . . . interesting,” he said finally. “Here we are waiting outside while you are meeting with our enemy, Carh. The very vertag you were to hand over to us.”

  “Am I to hand him over?” Carh asked.

  “We were summoned here because the Exile had taken refuge with the Banuk,” Norgen pressed. “And when we arrived, you did not deny it. But all you could te
ll us was that the traitor was away and you did not know when he would return.”

  “I don’t recall ever saying I would give Garnuk to you,” Carh said after a moment’s thought. “Nor was it I who summoned you here. One of my elders, perhaps?”

  “You’ll not find out from us,” Norgen snapped. He edged closer to the platform. “If you do not give up the traitor, we will take you captive too, Carh.”

  “I will not be threatened in my own home,” the Banuk chief replied, his voice as cold and uncompromising as the Southern Sea. “Least of all by lackeys of the Usurper. Your Ramshuk will lead the vertaga to ruin. Garnuk here is the only one outside of the Banuk capable of preserving our race for the future. He has seen the error of his ways and has a plan to fix the current situation.”

  “He is a traitor to his kind,” Norgen countered. “If you have any kind of pact with him, then the Banuk must be dealt with as well.”

  “Except, of course, those who summoned you here.”

  “You catch on quick,” Norgen said, smiling thinly. “Now, we will take Garnuk and you back to Dun Carryl. There, the Ramshuk will decide what is to be done with you.”

  Carh glanced at Garnuk, drumming his long claws on the arms of the chair. Finally, he looked back at Norgen.

  “No,” he said flatly.

  Norgen frowned, and the Black Hawks behind him moved forward a pace, anticipating a fight. “No?” he asked, his voice rising dangerously.

  “I said no,” Carh repeated. “I am going nowhere, and neither are you. The Black Hawks should never have set foot in Banta Kodu. Now that you are here, you shall not leave.”

  The Black Hawks edged forward a little more, fanning out around the raised platform in a semi circle. Norgen climbed the first step, eyes glittering with anger.

  “You intend to stop us? All of us?”

  Carh shrugged. “If I must.”

  Norgen snorted with laughter, then gestured sharply with his axe. “Take them.”

  The other Black Hawks swarmed the hearth from all sides, waving axes, swords and clubs. Garnuk sprang to his feet, shoving the chair next to him off the dais so that it fell on top of two Black Hawks. He parried the thrust of a third, and deflected the axe of a fourth. Behind him, he heard crashing furniture, shouts, and the clash of weapons as Carh dueled with the other four Black Hawks. Every so often, the thundering impact of his huge club hitting a body reverberated through the room.

  Garnuk swept right and left with his shield, clearing some space in front of him, and lunged with his sword. It slid past the vertag he had been aiming for, scoring only a shallow cut. The wounded Black Hawk shrank back, one of his companions shoving to the fore to engage Garnuk.

  The Exile fought furiously, his sword and shield a blur as he parried and deflected attack after attack, desperately trying to stave off the Black Hawks until help arrived. He heard the front doors of the council chamber crash open again, heard shouts and running feet. He chanced a quick glance in that direction and saw the two guards who had been guarding the council chamber rushing into the fray. Norgen jumped down from the dais to engage them, and a third small battle was begun.

  Garnuk bent over backwards as an axe whistled through the space where his head had been moments earlier. Then, he rolled to the side to avoid a sword, which rang on the hearth instead of splitting him open from shoulder to hip. The Exile jumped to his feet, then onto the low stone wall circling the fire pit, still fighting for his life. Behind him, Carh yelled in defiance and smashed an opponent’s shield with his club. The shield buckled then shattered into a dozen pieces, leaving the Black Hawk with a useless, splintered mess.

  A cry of pain sounded to the right, one of Carh’s guards. Garnuk swore inwardly, knowing the remaining guard could not hold off Norgen much longer. Any moment, he would join the fight as well. The Black Hawks would finish wearing Carh and Garnuk down, then slaughter them with impunity. Already, Garnuk was beginning to tire, such was the furor of the fight and the skill of his opponents.

  Another slash deflected, another axe caught on his shield. The metal bent ominously at the edge, indicating it too was wearing down. Garnuk retaliated with a slash of his own, but to no avail. His opponents were too many. They were taking turns attacking now, trading off who he was engaged with, constantly sending fresh warriors against him. He ducked another blow, then jumped over one. He nearly lost his footing on the narrow stone ledge, waving his arms to recover. An axe came dangerously close to making contact, but he swept it away with his shield at the last moment.

  Across the fire, Carh was not having much more success. He had smashed the shields of two of his opponents, but suffered several wounds in return. The war club was not the best of defensive weapons, nor was it particularly good for close quarters fighting. The Banuk chief roared as a sword scored a cut on his left arm, lashing out with the club to drive his opponents back. He would not last much longer.

  With a wild yell, Garnuk turned and leapt over the fire, landing in front of Carh and driving his attackers back. Such was the speed of his attack, and the surprise of the Black Hawks, that he managed to open a terrible gash on one’s axe arm. The vertag howled, his arm hanging useless at his side, and backed away, cradling the maimed and limp limb.

  But then, the rest of the Black Hawks were surrounding Garnuk and Carh, including Norgen. Garnuk glanced towards the entrance and saw the lifeless forms of the two guards.

  “Surrender,” Norgen said calmly, hardly even winded. “You will save yourselves much pain if you do.”

  “I don’t think so,” Garnuk gasped out. “The Ramshuk doesn’t want you to bring me back to Dun Carryl to be his advisor. He wants me alive for torture. If I die here, then you might be punished in my place.”

  “Much longer and we will simply be able to take the weapons from your hands,” Norgen observed, sneering. “You disappoint me, Garnuk. All this time, hunting the mighty Exile. And he turns out to be no more skilled than a common soldier.”

  “Then attack,” Garnuk snarled, darting his sword back and forth. “See how many of you survive.”

  “As you wish. Finish them,” Norgen said curtly.

  The other Black Hawks shuffled forwards but did not engage, some of them glancing at their wounded comrade. They knew in the end their numbers would win, but none wanted to be among those that fell before the Banuk chief and Garnuk were captured.

  Before Norgen could rally them to fight, Garnuk took matters into his own hands. With a wordless bellow he leapt sideways, slashing at a Black Hawk with his sword then bringing his shield up and around to catch him on the point of the chin. The vertag stumbled back, stunned, dropping his axe and clutching his mangled jaw. Garnuk continued the arc of his shield, smashing aside a sword just before it cleaved his skull.

  Carh swept his club in a devastating half arc, smashing weapons and shields, sending his opponents staggering. But he was unable to bring the club back around to defend himself quickly enough. As other Black Hawks stepped forward to take advantage of the opening, Garnuk ducked behind Carh and jabbed one in the thigh with his sword, deflecting the axe of another. Even still, there were too many questing blades, too many opponents for Garnuk to keep track of. He parried a sword and an axe, then heard a shout of warning from Carh. He turned and saw Norgen lunging towards him, axe descending in a glittering, deadly, and powerful arc. Garnuk knew that he would never intercept it in time.

  Then, out of nowhere, a spear entered Garnuk’s field of vision, smacking the axe handle to one side and sending Norgen stumbling.

  Tarq and Koah pushed past Garnuk, taking up their places in the defensive half circle, Koah bringing his spear up for another strike. Tarq had his axe held ready for a crushing blow, his shield on his other arm, glowering at the Black Hawks from behind it.

  “Took you long enough,” Garnuk muttered. “Where are the others?”

  “On their way,” Tarq promised. “But for now, it’s just us.”

  Garnuk glanced at the Black Hawks, strung out
in a ragged line around him and his companions. Seven, where once there had been nine. For the first time in several minutes, a spark of hope kindled within him.

  “Let’s even the odds.”

  Chapter 26:

  Duel of the Banuk

  Tarq and Koah surged forward, Garnuk and Carh a half step behind them. The two captains fought with a cold, calculated fury, their strength and skill decimating the worn-down Black Hawks, scattering them, breaking their formation and giving Carh and Garnuk the space they needed. The Banuk chief’s mighty club smashed shields and helms, destroyed axes and mangled sword blades. Garnuk fought right beside him, following up the devastatingly powerful attacks with surgically precise strokes of his sword. Though he did not land any killing blows, Garnuk did open gashes on the limbs of many of his opponents, making them easier to finish off.

  Beside Tarq, Koah was wreaking havoc with a shield and spear, the weapons of a true Sentinel. The spear had a longer reach than any of the Black Hawks’ weapons, and his skill and speed was unsurpassed. The shining steel head darted out repeatedly, biting deep into Black Hawk flesh, then darted back, scattering droplets of black blood over the floor of the council chamber.

  A Black Hawk fell under the onslaught. Then a second. The two who had been wounded earlier were still out of the fight, hanging back, eying the front exit as though they were thinking of running for it. Garnuk, seeing this, shoved through the enemies massed before him, intending to make sure the wounded could not escape, when Banuk warriors flooded into the council chamber.

  Norgen bellowed with rage as the newcomers charged, wading into the battle and surrounding the Black Hawks, driving them into a small circle of beleaguered and wounded vertaga. Among the warriors were common soldiers, stronghold guards, and Sentinels, all gathered to protect their chief. Much of Shadow Squadron was there as well, leading the attack as they hurled themselves against the Black Hawks, repaying them in full for ten years of being hunted across the Fells.

  Finally, it was just Norgen left. The Black Hawk leader turned this way and that, lashing out with his axe, roaring with rage. His hide was pricked in dozens of places, blood streaming from his wounds. His eyes glittered with battle-madness, and though his body was badly wounded the strength of his spirit was unbroken. A Sentinel fell before him, then two of Carh’s guards.