Red Valor

by Shad Callister

  Pelekarr’s brain raced with the possibilities. “Using the scent from that stench-filled pit?”

  Perian nodded. “You have not seen a mekkilak kill, but if you had you would understand that this thing could almost fight our battle for us. It could drive the Silverpath before it like a scythe.”

  Pelekarr gazed at Perian, gauging the feasibility of what she was suggesting. It was a huge risk, but they were in risky territory now, regardless.

  His mind drifted back to Damicos’ account of the red worms on the seashore, the beasts that had turned the tide of the entire battle in the space of a few minutes. He thought also of the gargantuan behemoths his men had encountered during their first battle with the pale apes, and how insignificant the beasts had made horse and man and ape with their sudden appearance.

  “If we remained safe in the fort, we could watch the enemy die. But,” the captain reasoned, “if the monster gained access to the inside, there would be no way to stop it. Hundreds might die before we slew the thing.”

  Perian nodded. “But the choice is to take that risk, or face the certainty of Silverpath warriors overrunning the walls and conducting the slaughter themselves.”

  “You don’t know that. We may prove capable of driving them off.”

  “You are deep in territory they control, captain. They will not be driven off. It is only a matter of how many days you can hold out before they sweep this entire fort away. With no help coming, it wouldn’t matter if you held for one or for three. But if a powerful new ally arrived to turn the tide…”

  “Ally, or avenging demon?” Pelekarr asked in rebuttal. “I sense the need for vengeance in you, to draw this grim fate toward your hated enemy.” He shook his head. “In our fight here, I cannot rely on something so wild and unpredictable. I must place my faith in the strength and tactics of my men, as I have always done.

  ”If we cannot turn back the Silverpath, then we will go to our graves having fought the most glorious stand of our lives. That is not such a terrible thing, for men of valor.”

  “Will you spurn my counsel once again?” Perian asked. “Deny your greatest chance to bring ruin upon your enemy simply because you fear the beast and love your men?”

  “My faith is in my men, yes, and in my tactics and my gods. Telion will see us prevail if he wills it.”

  “Your gods have no power here, Pelekarr! This is the land of Redtusk, and of Ishigo! The ancient gods, the only gods, not the scented fops you Kerathi think so highly of!”

  Pelekarr’s face colored. “The Kerathi gods have seen me this far, in the face of whatever powers yours may possess. Let us speak no more in anger, lest we strike harder at each other than we mean.”

  Perian stared intently at him.

  “Please,” she breathed. “Let me do this. To right the wrong I let happen when I unwittingly gave the prisoner the means of his escape. To avert this doom!”

  “And to strike again at the enemy the slew your people?” Pelekarr looked back at her, placing a gloved hand on her shoulder. His pulse quickened noticeably at the touch, despite the layer of leather between them.

  “I cannot. It’s too great a risk for you, and for the people of this fort. If you would seek redemption, then stand and help me destroy our enemies. Fight the doom with me.”

  She gazed at him for a moment longer, seeing no softening in his eyes. Then she turned from the palisade and stalked toward the area where the company had encamped within the fort’s walls.

  CHAPTER 25: IN COMPANY OF THE QUEEN

  It was marvelously surreal, to have walked out of the wilderness and to now be standing in front of a queen who, until minutes ago, had been the stuff of legend. Damicos glanced at Jamson on his right and at Lieutenant Leon on his left to reassure himself he wasn’t dreaming. The other six men stood behind in a row, shuffling uneasily and glancing around at the guards that had them hemmed in within the throne room.

  Looking around the cavernous hall, he noted the exotic and warlike décor, including paired javelins crossed over each window and the bleached skull of a monstrous, flat-snouted lizard protruding from under the throne itself for the queen to rest her feet on.

  The ceiling was high overhead, nearly lost to darkness, but intricately carved beams criss-crossed the open space. Wall hangings depicting forest battles and the repeated motif of a tall warrior woman covered the area behind the queen’s dais, where several guards stood with arms folded, staring blankly ahead. More guards waited at the door Damicos and his men had entered by, following the queen to her perch in the massive chair on the dais.

  Leisha sat tall and unmoving on her opulent throne, her sage dress draped to the floor over long legs, one hand in her lap and one resting on the arm of the throne. It was an artful pose, redolent of power, and Damicos wondered how many times she had practiced it. The stories Jamson had told him seemed more believable now; that this queen came from a long line of Kerathi nobility.

  Aware of her intense stare, he examined her features in return: a strong chin and nose, but her eyes were the striking part about her. They made her age hard to guess, and though he assumed she was at least a decade or two his senior, those eyes made him think she had not lost one bit of the vigor that had propelled her to her current position. Her hair was a smooth, rich honey-brown. It occurred to him that she may have achieved that color with the use of some natural dye—he knew a little about women’s ways.

  She eyed Damicos fiercely and spoke. “What is your name and whence do you come, Kerathi?” Her voice was regal and deep.

  “I am Uhl Jamson and this is Captain Damicos,” the gray-haired man spoke up quickly, even though the queen seemed to have addressed the captain instead of him. “We ventured from the frontier towns of Ostora. It is most courteous of you, Highness, to receive us in this way. You have a glorious city here, and a truly noble palace.”

  Damicos sensed that there would be a time and a place for bold speech, perhaps even intimidation, but that it would smooth this initial negotiation considerably if they started off on a respectful footing. He let the persuasive gentleman guide the conversation, and remained silent.

  Leisha looked at the man hard for a moment as if judging the intent behind his words. Then she nodded graciously.

  “I would know why you have come,” she said, her glance sweeping across all nine men. “My forest kingdom has not been visited by men from the coast in many years. And none that have come have left.”

  She paused just long enough on those words to make her audience wonder at their meaning.

  “Now I am told that you are not acting in the name of the king of Kerath. In whose name, then, have you come?”

  “In our own, Highness,” Jamson replied. “We are men of fortune. Cartographers, in point of fact. And explorers.”

  “How strange that cartographers should come with so many armed men—men wearing the bronze of Kerath.”

  Damicos cleared his throat. “Majesty, I am captain of the Tooth and Blade, a company of soldiers who once owed allegiance to the high king,” he said. “But we now fight for Ostora.”

  “Ah. Mercenaries.”

  “A man is what he is, Highness. I am not ashamed of the word. We were hired to protect this gentleman explorer during his travels. He had cause to fear, for it is a perilous country, as you surely know.”

  “Mercenaries fight for pay, do they not? How much has this man paid you?”

  “With respect, that is a matter between us, Majesty.”

  Jamson spoke again, practically oozing admiration from every pore. “We have weathered many dangers in coming to this place, O queen, because we believed the rumors of a small empire in the interior cut off from the world of men. Now we see that they are true.”

  “Indeed. And now that you see they are true, what will you do?”

  “That depends largely on your desires, Highness.”

  “My desires do not include or concern you,” Leisha promptly replied. “They certainly do not involve the pillaging of
my city at the hands of greedy soldiers.”

  “That is something to be avoided, then,” Jamson agreed.

  “We are a different breed from the free companies of Kerath, I assure you,” Damicos said. “We maintain strict discipline within our ranks, and respect those that respect us.”

  Leisha arched one thin eyebrow. “Respect? I received little enough of that ere I last treated with men of Kerath and Ostora.”

  “Nevertheless, Majesty, you’ll have it from us as long as you deal honorably with us.” Damicos paused, then spoke before the queen had a reply. “One reason for our coming, Highness, is that we seek fame and the joy of discovery. The knowing of that which has been kept hidden. That much, I think, we have already achieved. But in full honesty, there is another reason that we would be foolish to deny.”

  Jamson eyed the captain, uncertain of the direction he was taking. But Damicos ignored him. His confidence was growing with every word, and he thought he could now read the woman before them.

  “Profit.” The queen spoke the word with scorn. “Riches. It is clear enough.”

  “Aye, Majesty. I have my men to lead, and the poor wretches must eat.” Damicos gave his best roguish grin, hoping it would paint the picture he wanted it to—that of a simple, avaricious mercenary with pretensions to greater things. “Who could fail to see your display of greenstone? Certainly you have not tried to hide it. And why should you, great queen? My hope is that we can work together to find a mutually agreeable way for us to profit from our journey. We are not brigands, after all.”

  Leisha’s eyes betrayed a hint of surprise, and they narrowed with suspicion. “You believe your control over your soldiers sufficient to prevent their looting all that they see?”

  “I know it is sufficient.”

  The queen watched his face for a time, and finally seemed to satisfy herself that he was sincere. But then she looked up into the darkness overhead, as if peering into the future. “You make me curious, Captain: what would your company do if they never saw you emerge from this hall?”

  A cautious silence settled over the men in the room as the captain made his reply.

  “Your candor does you credit, O queen, and I will answer in kind. Were you to attempt to deal treacherously with us, my men would storm this city and batter down any effort to repel them. They are trained in precisely this mode of war, and would relish the opportunity. But as long as my companions and I remain alive and free, you have my word that I will forestall them from doing so.”

  “And your Kerathi brethren on the coast?”

  Jamson butted in quickly. “The Kerathi generals are busy enough with their own affairs, Highness. It is through our own ingenuity and intrepid daring that we have ventured here. Of course our coming is known among the soldiers on the coast, and no doubt they look upon our exploits with great interest. But for now, we have the ability to treat with you on our own terms without restriction or threat from other military forces.”

  Jamson had grossly overstated outside interest in the expedition; if anything, the endeavor had been mocked by most that took notice at all. But it didn’t hurt to let their host believe that many awaited their return.

  “And the barons? Which one financed your quest?”

  “None, your highness,” Damicos replied. “They squabble among each other for dominance, as ever they were wont to do. We have fought for some, but hold allegiance to none.”

  The queen pursed her lips. Finally she smiled. “Your words interest me greatly, Captain.”

  She clapped her hands, and two sets of servants entered the hall from doorways at the queen’s back.

  “Now let us talk of lighter matters, gentlemen! Of how we may be of service to one another, and both come out ahead in this encounter.”

  The servants, a mixture of well-accoutered young men and women, bore trays loaded with items for refreshment. There were flagons, fruit, cheese, and dampened napkins for wiping the dirt of travel from the soldiers’ faces. A pair of musicians also took up their positions at either side of the throne, standing far enough away that conversation could proceed uninhibited, and began to strum stringed instruments. A few of the guards turned and left the room.

  The guests relaxed their stance somewhat as the trays were offered them and fur-covered divans were brought forward from the walls for the men to sit on. Jamson happily helped himself to a steaming slice of meat, but Damicos motioned for his officers to wait.

  The queen, as if sensing the captain’s doubt, smiled thinly. She signaled the serving staff to each eat a small portion from the trays; once this was done, Damicos nodded and the men dug in. The queen nibbled a morsel now and then herself, from a gilded tray at her elbow, watching her guests with enigmatic eyes.

  Jamson finished eating, wiped his fingers on a napkin, and stood up in order to bow low.

  “Many thanks for your hospitality, Your Highness. Tell me, if I may be so bold: why have you remained here in the wilderness? Such wealth, splendor, and power are yours that they seem wasted here, indeed.”

  Leisha tapped one lacquered nail on the arm of her throne repeatedly and took her time in answering. “It is a far and difficult journey, as you now know first-hand. My people have had little desire for contact with those we left behind—a lair of serpents that drove us here in the first place. We have worked hard to carve a new empire from the forests, and we are loath to give up all that we have built.”

  Empire. Damicos listened carefully. The queen seemed to be answering a slightly different question than the one Jamson had asked.

  “All you have seen thus far is merely the beginning of our wealth and power,” the queen quickly went on. “Is it not glorious? Who among those grasping barons on the coast can boast of wealth such as I have here? Are there any?”

  Jamson slowly shook his head.

  “And that is only the beginning, I tell you. You have not imagined in your deepest dreams what lies within our grasp here, at the foothills of the Atacanthians.”

  The queen’s eyes flashed, betraying a hint of the rage that apparently still smoldered there.

  “In one visit to the coast, I could bring such wealth with me as would flood every market in Kerath and render impotent the deepest coffers of merchant and lord.” Her voice fell. “So fragile, their little world,” she murmured. “So unable to utilize the riches they think they desire.”

  Damicos paused, holding a grape to his lips. “With such wealth, Your Majesty, vengeance could be easily taken.”

  He ate the grape, watching her carefully as he chewed. Sensing that she was on the impassioned verge of letting some secret go, he wanted to push her just a little farther. But just a little.

  “Yes. Perhaps it could. Perhaps someday very soon!” She sneered coldly at Damicos. Then she looked over at Gladwin, who now stood near the throne with spear in hand. “Perhaps the time has finally come.”

  She looked back at Damicos. “How many men at arms have you, did you say?”

  “I did not say. But we have enough and more to face all threats this wilderness holds against us.”

  The queen looked to Gladwin for verification of the captain’s claim, and he nodded.

  “You may be of use to me, then,” the queen told Damicos. She said nothing more for a moment, sky-blue eyes glittering in the firelight.

  “It is clear enough what we stand to gain from dealing with you, Highness,” Jamson put in. “But how would our forces be of service to you? Surely you possess sufficient strength of arms to realize your aims.”

  The queen abruptly stood. “I must think on this. Good day to you all.” She turned and swiftly glided from the room, servants and guards in tow. Gladwin remained, looking after her departing figure.

  Damicos and Jamson exchanged a glance. The courtiers that remained seemed as surprised as they themselves felt, though the queen’s servants who were attending to Damicos’ men seemed to take it in stride.

  Gladwin conversed with a senior serving girl near the doorway by whi
ch the queen had left, and then approached Damicos and Jamson.

  “Will you return to your troops, or stay here for the evening?” He shuffled his feet, uncomfortable at suddenly being made host instead of guardian. “We can provide you with accommodations if you wish. I think the queen will wish to talk with you again.”

  “When?” Damicos asked.

  “I cannot say. Perhaps this evening at dinner. Perhaps not until tomorrow.”

  Jamson frowned, clearly unhappy at the thought of waiting in suspense in the queen’s halls with no set appointment. “We will return to our men to inform them what has been said here, and to make preparations for the night,” he announced. “Send us a message when you wish us to return. But see that we are not kept waiting overlong!”

  Gladwin nodded, his face inscrutable. He ordered two guardsmen to accompany the mercenaries and wait with them, should they need to send a runner into the city for any reason.

  The soldiers left Leisha’s palace the way they had come, through the wood-lined streets, with somewhat less tension than before but no less curiosity on both sides. Damicos and his men kept their heads high and their hands on their weapons, ensuring that all who watched could see that they were proud, prepared for anything, and determined.

  CHAPTER 26: A TERRIFYING ALLY

  Harnwe Hassander, the female skirmisher recruit, was too tired to linger over the evening meal. She’d spent all day with the fletchers, crafting arrows, and now her fingers were worn and cracked with the strain of fitting and shaping hundreds of sharpened shafts.

  She entered the tent she shared with Perian and lowered her short frame wearily toward her bedroll, ignoring the barbarian woman hunched nearby. At any moment, the sergeants said, the battle call might be raised, and likely at night. They were letting soldiers sleep in shifts to ensure that plenty would be rested and ready whenever the attack came.