Resistance

by Alex Janaway

  ‘I would like to learn about dwarves.’

  Lenard laughed. ‘I did wonder if someone might ask!’

  Confused, Fillion scratched his head.

  ‘Did you?’

  ‘I do actually get out of the library on occasion, Sabin. And, as a student of history, I make it my business to know when it is in the making,’ said Lenard.

  ‘And what do you think I need to know?’ Fillion was intrigued.

  ‘You want to know if we have ever been at war with the dwarves,’ stated Lenard, primly.

  Fillion, impressed, nodded. ‘I do.’

  ‘I would be surprised if you didn’t.’

  ‘And can you show me?’

  ‘Perhap. Perhap.’ Lenard pointed over Fillion’s shoulder. ‘You ought to know by now where everything is. Head that way.’

  ‘My thanks, Lenard.’

  Lenard narrowed his eyes. ‘If you can spare the time, when you are done, I have some chores you can help with.’

  ‘I would be delighted.’

  With a phlegmy cough Lenard retreated towards his shadowed table. Fillion raised his own two-pronged candlestick and headed into the depths of the circular library, following the aisle indicated by Lenard. After five minutes of rummaging through piled tomes and scrolls he hit upon a group that were truly aged. He put them at about nine hundred years old. Which meant they were written roughly at the same time as the last great genocide committed by the elves. He read through several before he found texts relating to the first meetings of the elf culture and the nearest dwarf clans to the north. At that time the Dwarf Nations were not federated in the same way they were now. Each clan vied for supremacy and land with its neighbours through a constant, shifting state of alliances and uneasy pacts. What was clear was that there were many skirmishes, and one or two genuine battles, before both sides sued for peace. It was evident from the writing that the elves had seen enough common ground and ability to negotiate that they decided against further aggression. That was as all he needed to know. Marmus had told him the dwarves had long memories. It was a good bet they could still remember a time when relations were frostier. He could build on that.

  He stood, replaced the texts on to the shelving, and went to find Lenard.

  Two hours later, after more humping and dumping than he had planned for, he arrived at The Silver Chalice. He was already late for his meeting, and worse than that, should have returned home for supper. There would be pointed looks and stilted conversation later. One thing he could also rely on was that Kanyay, once settled, would always be hard to shift. The wood elf had one of the booths, with a flagon and two cups in front of him.

  ‘Have they run out of ale?’ asked Fillion, taking the bench opposite.

  ‘It was always going to happen,’ said Kanyay with a sigh. ‘But we have this.’

  Fillion reached out and sniffed the flagon. ‘Mead. I haven’t had this for a long time.’ He took one of the cups and filled it. ‘Where d’you get it?’

  ‘Marmus.’

  ‘Ah. That makes sense.’

  ‘I felt it only right that we show our solidarity somehow,’ said Kanyay quietly, scowling at the rest of the inn’s clientele. ‘No one else is.’

  ‘Considering the situation, you can’t blame them,’ Fillion suggested.

  ‘Yes, I can,’ growled Kanyay, tugging at one of his fetishes. ‘Damned civilised elves wanted to tell folk what they can and can’t do.’

  ‘How is he?’ asked Fillion. The dwarf spent most of his time ensconced in his embassy, almost like he was under siege.

  ‘Today? He feels a little better.’

  ‘Really? That’s good.’

  ‘You haven’t heard why, have you?’

  Fillion shook his head. Just recently he felt he was always one step behind events.

  ‘They caught the humans.’

  Fillion felt a cold chill of dread. No. It can’t be over.

  He put his cup down, slowly and carefully. ‘Caught them?’

  ‘Yes. A unit of dwarf cavalry intercepted them as they tried to cross the Tuul.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘It was a slaughter, apparently. The cavalry found them strung out along the eastern bank trying to reach a bridge. Cut that column in half, and wreaked havoc.’

  ‘How many?’

  ‘Not sure. But Marmus said they killed thousands.’

  ‘Did they encounter resistance?’

  ‘Plenty. There was some organised defence, some kind of military response. The humans took the bridge, got thousands more over it and held back the cavalry.’

  Fillion nodded, hiding his intense relief behind his cup. Good. His plan could continue. He felt remorse for the Tissans that had died, but he needed to focus on the survivors and see it through.

  ‘What are the dwarves doing now?’

  ‘Marmus is unsure. His masters are royally pissed.’

  ‘The dwarves are mobilising?’ asked Fillion, drinking the mead. It was good. Almost as good as Celtebarian mead.

  ‘Now that is a good question. All their cavalry is already in the field. If they mobilise it’ll be infantry troops. They’ll be walking after the humans. Might take a while.’ Kanyay grinned into his mead.

  Fillion sat back and rubbed his chin. ‘I don’t think our Parliament would like that.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Kanyay. ‘Our cavalry will be on its way. I hear they have a wizard cadre joining them. I’m thinking of heading home and scaring up some riders. We’d catch those slaves before dwarf and elf alike.’

  ‘You could pick up some more ale on your way back,’ said Fillion, reaching for the flagon. A wizard cadre. That was a problem, no doubt riding those bloody great freakish bees of theirs.

  ‘That’s why I like you so much, Sabin. You put your concerns in the right order.’ Kanyay leaned forward and held his cup out for Fillion to pour.

  They touched glasses and drank. The small slip of paper that Fillion had been holding between his fingers was taken and slipped into Kanyay’s tunic.

  ‘Do I want to know what it says?’ he asked.

  ‘Up to you. But nothing that would surprise you,’ replied Fillion.

  Kanyay nodded. ‘I suppose so. My good and trusting nature might be offended.’

  ‘Then let’s leave it at that,’ agreed Fillion. The more Kanyay didn’t know the better.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT – CADE

  ‘You say that we have two, maybe three, days before they catch us?’ asked Sent.

  ‘If we are lucky.’

  A murmur went around the gathered group of refugees Cade now called her ‘council’. There weren’t that many left from those who had been picked to represent the mines, mostly it was her inner circle. It was all a little moot now anyway. They were just one big churning mass of humanity.

  She held her hands up to the small fire and warmed her fingers. It wasn’t cold but she felt damned tired. The heat prickled her skin, and then turned painful. She held them there a bit longer before pulling away, the pain staying with her for a few seconds.

  ‘So, what do we do?’ asked Sent.

  ‘We’ve made it back to Tissan. I always said that when that happened, folk would be free to choose their fates.’ Cade lifted her fingers and blew on them. Around the group, a hundred fires glowed in the night. They hadn’t found anything resembling a village or town, just burned-out husks. So instead, with the sun low in the sky, she’d ordered their ragtag column to stop by a large wood, and bid them build fires. It would help the stragglers, those who had made it across to find their way to them. After all of it, who were they hiding from? Until the dwarves got here, that is.

  ‘That’s not good enough!’ said Winders, emerging from the darkness, a blanket wrapped around him.

  ‘Nice of you to join us,’ she said.

  Winders stalked up to her and kicked her over.

  ‘Hey!’

  The small group erupted into chaos. Krste and a few others went for Winders, pulling him back even as
he struggled to get to her. Others sprang to his defence.

  Winders pointed at her from over Krste’s shoulder. ‘Not good enough, Cade!’

  Issar got behind Cade, pulling her up. ‘You alright?’ he asked.

  ‘Yeah, fine.’ She brushed his hands off and pulled down her shirt. Adjusting the leather duster she had appropriated on their journey west, she cricked her neck. ‘Everyone just calm the fuck down. Let him go.’

  ‘Cade,’ warned Miriam.

  ‘Just do it,’ she shouted.

  She looked around. Their excitement had drawn a crowd. Faces loomed in the flickering light, some confused, others fearful. Very few looked hopeful.

  Winders pulled his arms free. ‘I wasn’t lucky enough to be near the bridge, I was with many of my people further north. We tried to get to you, but it was too late. The dwarves cut us off. We were dying. So I told everyone to make for the water. They drove us towards it, cutting us down as we ran. We were slaughtered. And then folk started to drown.’ Tears were rolling down his cheeks. ‘You got us here, Cade. It’s on you. All those deaths. It’s on you.’

  Cade flung her hands in the air. ‘Fine! It’s on me. If that makes you feel better about yourself, go ahead, fill your boots.’

  ‘You left us to die!’ he cried.

  ‘We had no choice!’ Cade snapped. ‘You think we should have stayed and fought? When Devlin gets back I’ll get him to explain what a shit idea that would have been. We saved as many as we could. They were always going to come after us. It was only a matter of time. You’ve got a couple more days. What you want to do next is up to you. I don’t give a rat’s ass.’

  Winders deflated before her. His shoulders sagged and he dropped to the ground, his head hanging low between his legs.

  ‘It’s over, though, right?’ asked a long-legged Scotian called Cline. ‘We got across the border.’

  Emperor but these people are stupid. ‘What did you think was going to happen next?’ Cade asked. ‘We settle down and live our lives like we still have an empire? It’s long gone.’ Cade stretched her arm out – it protested. ‘We are back across the border. But I doubt that will stop them.’

  She looked at Sent, and then at Miriam. ‘Either of you two, anyone, know how many we lost?’

  Miriam shrugged. ‘I was with you.’

  ‘It’s too early to say,’ said Sent.

  ‘Thousands,’ said Winders bitterly.

  ‘Everyone was strung out,’ offered Cline. ‘We still have stragglers coming in.’

  ‘Supplies?’ she asked.

  ‘Are in a better situation,’ replied Sent. ‘The main supply convoy was near the bridge. We got most of the wagons across. That said, we are not going to have any settlements to sack now. We’ll need to rely on foraging.’

  ‘That suits your lot to the ground, don’t it?’ Cade asked.

  Sent raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Plainsfolk, you said it yourself. Used to the outdoors life.’

  ‘Cade, I grew up in a house in a small town east of Brevis. When I started my business I lived in a larger house in Vyberg. I like soft beds, I like staff. And I don’t have a fucking clue how to catch a rabbit, or plant a fucking radish.’

  ‘That makes two of us, then,’ said Cade.

  There was a gentle ripple of laughter, a few smiles. And just for a moment, Cade felt the mood change. Now was as good a time as any to broach what she had a notion to do.

  ‘I’m going to run something by you now. Something that maybe one or two of you have thought about as well.’ Cade stood, because it felt like the right thing to do. ‘I’m from Aberpool, ain’t that right, Cline?’

  ‘That you are,’ said Cline.

  ‘And, in the absence of anywhere else to go, I might as well head back there. Issar?’

  ‘Yes?’ he replied.

  ‘You thought about Erebesh?’

  ‘What about it?’ he asked, looking a little confused.

  ‘Going back there, you idiot!’

  ‘Oh. Well. Yes, I guess so. You know, there was this lovely inn, right on the wharf at Tarut–’

  ‘Yes. I’m sure,’ interrupted Cade.

  ‘I’d like to go home to Glendos,’ said Miriam.

  ‘I see where you are going with this, Cade.’ Sent nodded.

  She motioned for him to continue.

  ‘It’s been the plan from the start. It’s time we split up. We have to widen our ability to hunt and scavenge. Like Devlin always said, if we stay in one mass, we make ourselves an easy target for the dwarves. And, if I have you right, you are suggesting that we split into our old nations, before we were united under the Sun banner.’

  ‘Is that true?’ asked Winders.

  ‘Why not?’ said Cade. ‘If we all start going in different directions, it makes it more difficult for them to hunt us.

  ‘We might end up weaker. Is there not strength in the whole?’ asked Sent.

  ‘I can’t argue with that. We split our numbers, we have less fighters for each group. But – and I’m just throwing it out there – what if one column, or two, gets away clean. What if they give up the hunt? I doubt they are keeping count.’

  ‘That’s grim, Cade. Real grim,’ said Issar.

  ‘There’s nothing good about this. It’s all fucked. But if you want to survive, this is the only way. Life has always been a scrap. And it’s not going to change for any of us. But I ain’t done fighting yet. So. Up to you. I’m heading west. Whoever wants to come with me, can. If you want to go your separate ways, you can. Sent, make sure they get a fair share of supplies, wagons and weapons. Anyone wants to kick off about it send them to me. No, don’t send them to me. Send them to Krste.’

  Krste grinned and gave her a thumbs up.

  ‘Now go, talk among yourselves. Sort it out.’

  With a sigh Cade settled back in front of the fire again. The group broke up around her, the conversation animated. There, she was done. She had nothing else to give or say.

  ‘You were right.’

  Cade looked up. Winders was still there, just on the other side of the fire.

  ‘What was that?’

  ‘You were right. To do what you did.’

  ‘Uh, thanks?’ Cade wasn’t sure where this was heading.

  ‘You had to block the bridge.’

  ‘There was no choice.’

  Winders looked hard at her.

  ‘There was a choice. You made the right one. But I lost people I cared about, so I cannot give you my forgiveness.’

  ‘I’m not asking for it.’

  ‘No, I guess you’re not.’ He stood up.

  Cade shook her head. She supposed she should be civil. ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘I’m taking your advice. I’m going south, to Celtebaria.’

  ‘That takes you awful near the elves.’

  ‘I know. But that’s my home. I haven’t been back there for nigh on ten years. Not many of us left. They did a good job of wiping it clean. Maybe they won’t notice me.’ He turned to go and stopped. ‘Thank you for getting us this far.’

  ‘You’re welcome. And good luck.’

  Winders inclined his head and disappeared into the night.

  ‘Morning,’ said Devlin.

  Cade lay in the wagon bed with her legs propped up on top of a crate of bottles. She opened an eye a crack.

  ‘Morning.’ He was looking down at her from his horse. His eyes had dark rings around them, and his beard was covered in dust. ‘You just got in?’

  ‘Yes. We pulled out a few hours ago.’ He looked around, confusion on his face. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Camp’s breaking up.’

  ‘I can see that.’ He paused for a moment. ‘I count at least three columns. One heading northwest. Another two heading south.’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  He looked down at her. ‘Spreading out?’

  ‘Seemed like the right time.’

  ‘We heading west?’

  ‘I reckon,’ Cade admitted.r />
  ‘I thought we were going to coordinate things.’

  Cade pushed herself up on to her elbows. ‘Right now, I don’t think I could coordinate a piss up in a brew house.’ She squinted at him. ‘Devlin, no offence but you look like shit.’

  He smiled, almost apologetically.

  ‘Yeah, but it wasn’t that bad after all. The dwarves figured it out pretty quick. They pulled back and sent groups north and south, just like we expected. We’re not sure how many were left watching us, but they didn’t make a try for the bridge. We spent most of the night gathering in survivors from the river, and putting them on the road west.’

  ‘Anyone left behind you?’

  ‘Maybe. Left some scouts back along the route. Could be scores further down the Tuul. Best thing they can do is go it alone.’

  Cade nodded. They might end up being the lucky ones.

  ‘So, what about this lot?’ pressed Devlin.

  Cade sighed, climbed on to her feet and gazed around the massive encampment. As Devlin had said, a line of figures was heading northwest to the northern coasts of the Riverlands and two smaller columns running almost in parallel were heading south. The destinations were clear; one was for Erebesh, one for Celtebaria – Winders was at their head. Evan was stood at the front of the wagon, adjusting the straps on the ponies. Krste was taking a piss over the remains of the fire.

  ‘Come on you two. We should get going,’ she ordered.

  ‘If my eyes are right, most of the survivors are still here,’ said Devlin. ‘Looks like people want to stick together after all.

  Cade huffed. ‘Their choice.’

  ‘So, are we staying on this road?’

  ‘Might as well. The going will be easier and we need to get on. It’ll take us close to the Highlands. That’ll be nice. Always wanted to see them.’

  ‘The dwarves will follow.’

  ‘That’s for you to worry about.’

  Devlin grunted.

  ‘Fine. I gotta start planning. Treat this like a withdrawal from combat.’ He stood in his saddle and motioned to one of his riders. ‘Hey, Rance, over here!’

  Cade waved a hand. He was already off in his own head. Working things out. She climbed over to the driver’s bench. Evan leapt up next to her, Krste hopped into the back.