Reckoning

by David Adams

  “Of course,” he said, doing his best to keep the questions in his mind from showing on his face.

  “You have skill with such a weapon?” Uesra asked.

  “No,” she replied, a bit too quickly and harshly. “But I can learn.”

  “Of course,” Uesra replied, wishing she had kept quiet.

  “Look, I know you’re all worried about whether I’ll be of further use, but I intend to come along, and not to be a weight around your necks in doing so. If there is a fight, I’ll take care of myself, as I’ve always done.”

  “I think we’ve all done that, and looked out for one another as well,” Silas said.

  “As you did for Barlow,” Darius added, trying to be encouraging. He realized immediately that it was a poor example, considering Barlow was now buried less than fifty yards from where they sat.

  Adrianna smirked at the comment but let it go, for her sake and for Darius’. She knew the young man meant well. “Just try not to worry about me too much, okay? When we are challenged—and we will be—you will all need to focus on the task at hand. I’ll not have anyone hurt looking after me.”

  They all agreed to her request, even as they wondered if they could really do so when the time came.

  * * *

  That day Adrianna set the pace without ever taking the lead. Everyone knew it, including her, but no one spoke of it. They continued to follow the river, and although much of the ground was flat and smooth, there were rougher sections where Adrianna overcame her pride and took Silas’ or Darius’ arm to keep her balance. All in all they covered more miles that day than any of them expected, although that was still only half of what they normally accomplished. Darius noted their progress that night to Uesra while the two of them went on guard duty together, wanting to see if the elf felt any better about their situation. He expected no more than a cursory agreement but got a pleasant smile instead.

  “Actually, I’m quite pleased,” she said. “We did well.” She saw Darius’ surprised look and asked him the reason for it.

  “You’ve come further than I expected in a day as well,” he replied. “I thought you’d still be frustrated. Our pace wasn’t exactly swift today.”

  “True. But we needn’t go far, not yet. I don’t see that we must be racing toward the end, as long as we’re moving. That much we’ve accomplished. If it takes longer than it might have…well, that gives Adrianna a bit more time to adjust.”

  He looked back at the camp and saw the sorceress soundly asleep there. She hadn’t argued when the others told her she shouldn’t take a turn on the watch, an indication of just how tired she was. “She needs it. I think pride kept her on her feet more than anything else today. I don’t know how long she can keep that up.”

  “As long as she needs to, I would guess. She will regain her strength, more every day.”

  Darius wondered if they had enough days before their next challenge—before Kaelesh—for it to matter. But he said nothing, only smiled and nodded and went back to his patrolling.

  * * *

  The next day Adrianna was up at dawn, and found her feet without aid. She acknowledged Silas and Xanar, the current watch, with a brief nod, then took up Darius’ sword and moved off into an open area. The weapon felt clumsy and awkward and far too heavy, and she realized that little of that had to do with her current condition. She wished, if only briefly, for a knife, but realizing that one wasn’t currently available she focused on the weapon at hand. She steeled herself and took a deep breath, then cut the air to her right and left with two quick slashes that nearly toppled her over. Regaining her balance she tried again, refusing to look back toward the others. The results were hardly better.

  “It takes some time,” Darius said. He had moved up behind her—but not too close—as she tried the weapon.

  She flushed and replied, “I never gave thought to how heavy these things might be.”

  “You’ll get used to it. Let it work for you. Just get it moving, then let the weight do the rest.”

  She tried again, a touch better. “Think I’m ready to spar?” she asked, in a tone that indicated she already knew the answer.

  He laughed, a pleasing sound rather than a mocking one. “Give it a little more time.”

  She went back to work.

  * * *

  The weather that day was the warmest they had experienced in months. If not for the thin clouds shielding the sun, they might even have worked up a bit of perspiration on the day’s march. Even so, they threw back their hoods and even removed their cloaks in the middle of the day, and were reminded while doing so that spring was not far off.

  Adrianna’s stride was more brisk than the day before, and as she started to feel better in her legs she even stepped to the front of the line for a while, happy to take a turn blazing the trail. She had fashioned a belt from some rope so that she could keep Darius’ sheathed sword with her, although it felt foreign and strange hanging there. It took some time before she could walk without it banging against the side of her leg, but she wouldn’t have Darius or anyone else hauling it all over Corterra for her any longer. If she was going to use it, she would carry it.

  Darius was happy to see some of the life returning to Adrianna, but he struggled to stop worrying about her. While she was leading he fell back a bit so he could talk privately with Silas.

  “She’s looking better,” he said, wanting to start on a positive note.

  “That she is,” Silas agreed. “But she still has a way to go.”

  Darius nodded. “That’s what I’m concerned about. She’s courageous, and I know she meant what she said about us letting her take care of herself in a fight…”

  “But you don’t know if you can.”

  “Right.”

  “I have the same issue.”

  Darius relaxed upon hearing this, thinking he might avoid the argument he expected. “So what are we going to do about it?”

  Silas raised his eyebrows. “ ‘Do?’ I don’t know that there is anything we can do, really. We certainly can’t convince her to stay behind.”

  “If she thought we’d put ourselves at risk for her, she might be persuaded.”

  “I doubt it. She’d just repeat what she said before, probably in sterner tones.”

  Darius smiled at that. “I’d prefer not to be on the receiving end of that.”

  “Our other option would be to sneak off while she slept.”

  “She’d follow us.”

  Silas nodded.

  Darius shook his head. “The best we can hope for is that she can defend herself with that sword, and I’m far from sure of that. What good is it for her to come along if she’s just going to get herself killed?”

  “None, of course, if that was the only possibility. I recall a conversation I had with Adrianna early in our journey together. She was concerned that none of us might be up to the task at hand.”

  “Even you?” Darius asked with a knowing look.

  “She excepted me, perhaps because I was the one to whom she was expressing her concern. She thought you a fine young man, but in over your head, and Barlow too old. The elves we had yet to meet.”

  After a pause, Darius asked, “Luke?”

  “Yes, she mentioned Luke as well,” Silas admitted with a sigh.

  Darius laughed, but it was a joyless noise. “Maybe she was right to be worried. Considering what happened to Luke and Barlow, it hardly proves her case that she should stay with us now.”

  “But we’ve all played a role and there have been times—like Barlow at New Bern with the Dezku, the elves with Praad, and you a few days ago with Orgoth—where the abilities of one or two of us saved the rest.”

  “Granted. But Adrianna’s skill with the sword is basically non-existent, and not likely to get much better. Magic was her specialty, and without it there’s a gap the rest of us can’t hope to fill.”

  “Magic isn’t her only talent, just as being a trained soldier with a sword is not your sole contribution to
our group.”

  Darius held up his hands in surrender. “I don’t mean to sound critical. I’m just worried about her. We’ve lost Luke and Barlow. That’s enough.”

  Silas studied him for a time and then said, “This is about Luke, isn’t it?’

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know what we have yet to face may mean any of us could fall. But that wouldn’t turn you back, nor make you suggest any of the rest of us do so. If Adrianna still had her magic...?”

  “We wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Darius admitted.

  “But you blamed yourself for not sending Luke away, although you know you couldn’t have done so. You felt responsible for him, as if you needed to watch over him, and he fell. And now, you see the same need to protect Adrianna, and fear the same end…and the same sense of guilt.”

  Darius considered this for a time before answering. “I don’t know. Maybe you’re right, maybe not. Either way, I’m worried and I don’t see any way out.”

  “Good. Admit that to yourself, and that Adrianna will do what she feels she must, regardless of your feelings. It’s painful to see those we love at risk, but we need to respect how they wish to face life’s challenges.”

  “And then?”

  “Hope for the best.”

  “Not much to go on.”

  “Sorry,” Silas said. “It’s all I have to offer. And I’m worried, too.”

  “Well, at least you’re honest,” Darius concluded with a sigh.

  * * *

  Kaelesh felt a tingling chill on the back of his neck, and instinctively knew what it meant. His innards were suddenly full of hot lead, and he gathered his focus to make sure his breathing remained regular, so as not to show any apprehension. He saw it then, a formless shadow that would be unseen to most on this plane, although the sense of lurking menace he felt would be shared by any mortal in the area. He wondered if the guards outside the door were slipping away from their posts even now, preferring to risk their lives for doing so rather than holding their places while a nameless fear crept somewhere close by. Kaelesh could hardly blame them if they did leave—not that they’d avoid his wrath. “Father,” he said. “A pleasure, as always.”

  A voice replied, deep and full of power, but also with a subtle echo, as if the speaker was across a great chasm. “The harvest has been plentiful. Are you coming back soon?”

  As was ever the case with his father, Kaelesh knew the words might have more than one meaning. He proceeded cautiously. “We have been here a while, at least as far as time is measured here.”

  “True. But that is not why I ask. Considering Praad and Orgoth have returned, I simply wondered how soon you might follow.”

  Kaelesh didn’t think his stomach could tighten any further, but hearing Orgoth was in the netherworld did the trick. “I was unaware of the change in Orgoth’s whereabouts.”

  “No doubt. Seems the same group that bested Praad overcame him as well. Surprising, really. I would not think mortal beings—a small group no less—capable of such a thing.”

  Kaelesh, not sure how to answer, remained silent.

  After a time the disembodied voice went on. “You have done well. Many of the souls were quite ripe. A shame the three of you could not leave under your own terms.”

  “The willingness of some to fight is perhaps why the souls taken were so desirable.”

  “Agreed. But willing to fight and winning such battles are two different things. So, will you be seeing to these people yourself, or coming back before they find you?” There was a mocking edge to the voice now, an indication he was more amused by recent developments than anything else.

  Such did not surprise Kaelesh. He and his brothers had never challenged their father directly, and their father liked it that way. Occasional failures by the three weren’t necessarily a bad thing from his perspective. “I await them now,” Kaelesh said, allowing a hint of defiance to peek through the words.

  “Very good. Hopefully when next we meet it will be at a time of your choosing, not as a result of your interaction with this little band of upstarts.”

  “I’m touched by your concern.”

  There was a pause, long enough for Kaelesh to wonder if he had stepped over the line. Then his father laughed, a deep, booming sound that faded as the shadow passed back into the abyss.

  * * *

  Kaelesh wanted to believe Orgoth’s conclusion, that it was sheer luck that had brought him down, but he knew he couldn’t. He had pondered the tale for several minutes, then finally remembered the little imp that he had called to bring him news. This one had to go back to Orgoth with a string of questions and then return, and it was now little more than a trembling mass of flesh, having been forced to deal with two angry, powerful demon-lords. Having no further questions, Kaelesh released the poor creature, and then sat alone, brooding.

  Thoughts swirled and clashed in his mind as he replayed the stories of what had happened to Praad and now Orgoth. At a minimum, he was dealing with one holy man—he couldn’t be sure if the second had perished from the wound Orgoth had given him—a powerful sword, two Ice Elves with unknown abilities, and potentially a powerful mage, although the force that had struck Orgoth may have been from one of the holy men or the elves. He needed more information, and without it, he started to see his foes through a lens that continued to make them appear more and more formidable.

  He caught himself, forced himself back to the here and now, and wondered if he was actually frightened. Even the fact he could ask himself such a question disturbed him.

  No, he thought, it wasn’t fear as such. It was the loss of control the unknown created that bothered him so. Perhaps that was a form of fear—fear that his plans would go awry further than they already had, fear that he couldn’t dictate future developments in the manner to which he had grown accustomed—but he wasn’t actually scared of the consequences if he himself was struck down. Which begged another question: Could they do it?

  Yes, he had to admit. Luck or not, if they could best Praad and Orgoth, he’d not be arrogant enough to think himself immune. And the fact they were apparently coming for him, actually looking for the fight… Well, that would give any rational being pause.

  He considered his options, dismissing out of hand any thoughts of flight on Corterra or of returning to the underworld on his own. Such cowardice he couldn’t abide in himself, nor would he face his brothers and father after fleeing. The simple answer was to call forth the legions of hell as Orgoth had done, but to use them to overwhelm these foes. He could send them forth and cut off these fools before they came within fifty miles of the city, and no skill or luck would save them. But he saw two issues with that. First, vengeance required at least some portion of the victory be his, and to send such a force out now seemed nearly as cowardly as running away. He was certain Orgoth would see it that way, as would their father. Praad, more practical, might acknowledge it as wisdom, but he’d never convince the others, and likely couldn’t even convince himself that such was the case. Second and far more troubling, Kaelesh knew there were blurry lines that, if crossed, might rouse other powers, powers he knew in his heart he could not overcome. He did not pretend to understand those powers, so alien to him and his kind, and it disturbed him even more to think that in their sometimes confusing, maddening way these powers might already be at work, opposing him and aiding his enemies.

  He forced himself to stop that line of thinking. It felt far too defeatist. His father had commended his work on Corterra, and it had been a good harvest. And it was soon time to move on to other worlds. He would meet this challenge, emerge victorious, and then proceed, all the more respected by his brothers, and, yes, even by his father, for doing so. If these upstarts wanted to come, he would let them, but not without a few final challenges. And if those challenges weakened them, all the better.

  Kaelesh was always so in control of himself, but now he had a rare opportunity. There was no further reason to disguise who or what he wa
s. If this little group wanted to seek a demon-lord, they would find one in all his horrible splendor. Kaelesh let the façade fall away, and did the same with the mental walls within which he contained himself, and the rage and hate and power poured from him like the storms that haunted the darkest nightmares.

  Chapter 16: The Red Sky

  “Good!” Darius said, and meant it. Adrianna had swung the sword with force and balance, and though he easily parried, she was not left open to a simple counterstrike as had been the norm over their sparring the last few days.

  She tried again, perhaps encouraged too much, but rather than blocking her attempt Darius hopped back a step. She had too much forward momentum and bent low as she over-strode. A real opponent could have easily struck at her exposed head, shoulder, or side. She stood up straight, sighed, and shook her head. “I guess I was counting on your block to hold me upright.”

  “Don’t be too hard on yourself,” he told her. “A few days ago you could barely walk. Now look at you.”

  “Yeah, look at me. Now I can barely swing a sword,” she said with a smirk.

  “Keep working at it, and remember to not be lulled into an opponent’s perceived pattern. That can be used against you.” He raised Gabriel into a ready position.

  She held up a submissive hand. “No more for tonight. I don’t want to tire myself out too much before I go on watch.”

  “Tomorrow, then,” he said, sheathing his sword. He decided not to comment on her planning to take a turn on watch. If she felt ready, he’d not question it, but deep down inside he was glad they worked in teams of two. She’d do fine, he told himself, then turned his thoughts to other things before further doubt could creep in.

  She went off a short distance to be alone with her thoughts, while Darius joined the others around a modest fire.

  “How’s she doing?” Uesra asked.

  “Better every day,” he answered, honestly.

  Uesra could read more in Darius’ face than the young man wanted. “But not good enough.”

  “No, not yet. Most people wouldn’t be in only a couple of days.”