Soldiers of Legend

by Stephen L. Nowland

“He said a man in a place called Trinity sent it to him as payment for services rendered,” Aiden replied, stifling his growing anger at being held inside the sphere. “I understand your concern, but do you think you could let me out of here?”

  “I am sensing something odd about you as well,” the wizard stated, leaning upon his staff. “You bear with you a weapon of remarkable power, which seems to have a mind of its own. I am attempting to determine if it is exercising control over you in some insidious way.”

  “It’s quite safe,” Aiden said in a level tone. “I would point out that it would allow me to destroy this barrier and be at your throat in a heartbeat, should I desire it.” With a swift gesture, the barrier around Aiden suddenly shrunk, wrapping around him tightly until he could not move.

  “Do not threaten me, child,” Terinus rasped as Aiden struggled to breath.

  “I was just pointing out that if I wanted to kill you, I could have done it already!” Aiden gasped. Reluctantly, the wizard gestured again with one hand and the barrier vanished, allowing Aiden to fall onto the desk as he took in deep breaths.

  “I sense the power of your weapon flickering like a candle in the wind,” the wizard remarked. “Whatever its true nature is, I would not rely upon it in battle if I were you.” The green sphere reappeared tightly around the amulet, and with a wave of his staff, Terinus pulled the relic through the air to hover before him.

  “Such toxic power,” he remarked quietly, almost forgetting Aiden’s presence for the moment. “I do not think some commoner sent this to the baron. Even without its eldritch aura, the gem in the centre is worth a small fortune. Something else was at play here.” The sounds of approaching footsteps could be heard echoing down the corridor outside, and within moments, Criosa’s head appeared around the corner of the entrance.

  “What on earth is going on in here?” she asked curiously, followed by an expression of dreadful recognition crossing her features.

  “Princess Criosa,” Terinus stated flatly as he turned to face her. “You were to remain at Fairloch, were you not? I wish I could describe to you the magnitude of your poor decision, though I fear you will soon learn for yourself.”

  “I refused to sit idly by while my home is under threat,” she replied hotly. “If you are going to try and send me away, you might find that more difficult than you suspect.”

  “I will do no such thing, for while I would not wish to see you harmed, my time here is limited and you have already chosen your fate,” Terinus explained. “Tell me, Sir Aiden; have managed to understand the nature of this relic?”

  “I have been researching all evening,” Aiden said warily, having a new appreciation of just how dangerous this man was. “I believe it is part of a larger device that may be useful against the Ironlord.”

  “Curious, then, that it was sent to the baron,” the wizard mused. “Perhaps someone wanted it in safe hands? More likely, someone wanted to inflict a slow death upon the baron to weaken the defence of this fort.”

  “I hadn’t considered that,” Aiden mumbled absently, realizing that the amulet itself would be an insidious weapon to use against an enemy.

  “You would do well to consider all possibilities,” Terinus rasped, then appeared to ponder something briefly. “I have a contact in Trinity who is an expert at dealing with the sort of relics excavated from deep in the Hocarum Desert. Not only would she be able to shed more light on this device, she may well know the individual who sent it. If you are set upon the task of investigating the mystery of this relic, you would do well to travel to Trinity and speak with the sage known as Sahar.”

  “We have to oversee the restoration of the fort’s defences,” Aiden pointed out.

  “So, in addition to your apparent knowledge of the arcane, are you also an engineer?”

  “Well, no, but—”

  “Then you will not be missed,” Terinus stated. “I urge haste in the resolution of this matter, for our enemy will be here sooner than I would prefer.”

  “Is my father well?” Criosa asked in a small voice, clearly intimidated by the presence of the brutally honest wizard.

  “The king lives, and continues the fight in an effort to slow the Ironlord, thus buying the time required to prepare the defence of this place,” Terinus explained curtly. “I have wasted enough time on these matters — I must see to the condition of the fort immediately.”

  “Captain Marshald is the man to speak to,” Criosa advised. “You will find him—”

  “At the local barracks, yes,” Terinus interrupted, setting the relic down on the table and dismissing the protective green sphere. “I suggest you find a way of transporting that device safely, when you go to Trinity, Sir Aiden. Though it would not make you ill within the next few days, it would certainly shorten your lifespan in the long term.” Without further word, Terinus slowly walked out of the library, the staff he leaned on clicking on the stone floor with every step.

  “That man scares me,” Criosa breathed quietly after he was well out of earshot. “He always has.”

  “He’s completely unlike any of the other wizards at the University,” Aiden observed. “I can only assume his power is such that the king puts up with that caustic attitude.”

  “Enough about him,” Criosa said, eager to change the subject. “Tell me what you’ve discovered so far.”

  Aiden informed her of the connection between the amulet, the staff that it came from, and the Ironlord.

  You seem familiar to me, the sword said in a weak voice. Do I know you?

  “What was that?” Criosa breathed in disbelief.

  “Salinder in’t doing too well,” Aiden explained quietly, aware that the sword was overhearing everything they said. “Whatever is sustaining his life within the sword is dissipating faster than we thought.”

  “Is he still able to… no, he isn’t strong enough to defeat the Ironlord anymore, is he? I can see it in your eyes.”

  “He comes and goes,” Aiden answered soberly. “It’s heartbreaking to hear him like this, to be honest. This is why we have to go and find out more about this amulet and staff, in case we need them after all.”

  “As if we didn’t have enough bad news,” she sighed. “Alright, we’ll head out at first light to follow this up. We don’t really need to be here anyway, as I’ve given Sir Leonard the authority to oversee the repairs to the fort. Hopefully this contact of Terinus’s will have some more information. Why don’t you head to the inn and rest up for the night? I’m going to check in on Lord Alastair and see if I can lift his spirits.” Aiden nodded and reached out to give her a quick embrace and a peck on the cheek, before they went their separate ways.

  * * *

  “I don’t know what they’ve been doing around here for the past few decades, but this place is lucky to be standing at all,” Robert Black was telling Aiden as the two men sat at a table enjoying the warmth of the Bulwark, Fort Highmarch’s inn. The mercenary was enveloped in a cloud of cigar smoke, and occasionally sipped from a tall glass of beer. He had dispensed with his armour and leaned forward in his chair, the back of which was facing towards the table.

  “This fort is the premier defensive structure on the southern border of Aielund, and you’re telling me they’ve been neglecting it for the better part of a century?” Aiden whispered incredulously, hoping their conversation wasn’t being overheard. The inn’s common room was less than half full, but he was hearing more and more information lately that just shouldn’t be discussed in public.

  “I’m just telling you what I saw,” Robert said with a shrug, puffing on his cigar. “Marshald’s a good man, but he’s no engineer and he’s never been in a siege. The walls would last two days at best, under those conditions. Of course, that’s assuming a regular army equipped with modern weaponry. An army of metal monsters powered by magic might smash through in minutes.

  “There’s one piece of good news,” Robert added. “The southern gate is in pretty good condition, at least compared to the rest of the w
alls. With minimal attention it’ll be as good as new.”

  “Okay, so we just need to make sure the giant contraptions coming this way only attack that section,” Aiden replied sarcastically. Robert grunted with bleak humour, then reconsidered his position.

  “Look, it may be in bad shape, but I reckon our industrious friends from Stonegaard will have a few tricks up their sleeves. With the southern buttresses reinforced, the walls should buy us enough time for us to do what we have to. In this case, you’ll be dying heroically and I’ll be making a run for it.”

  “Actually, I think I might have found something that could prove useful,” Aiden confided. “We’re leaving tomorrow morning to investigate.”

  “Care to enlighten me?”

  “I’m not sure if it’s a weapon or something else, but I’ve come across a relic that is somehow connected to the Ironlord,” Aiden said. “We’ll know more when we get to Trinity.”

  “Well, it beats sitting around in this icebox for the next few days waiting to die,” Robert grunted.

  “We’ll be leaving early, so go easy on the beer, okay?” Aiden advised, having steered clear of the amber liquid himself all evening.

  “There’s someone else you should probably mention that to,” Robert said with a casual glance over at the bar. Aiden knew what he was going to see as soon as he turned to look, and his fears were confirmed when he saw Pacian sitting there with an empty pitcher and half a glass of ale before him. More than that however, was the shining dagger he was toying with in one hand, slowly using it to drill a hole in the bench top as he stared at it in a drunken stupor.

  Aiden wasn’t the only one to have noticed this. Dante Colt was at a table across the room, seated next to the elf Mona, a tall, exotic woman with tanned skin and long, golden hair tied back at the nape of her neck. Across from her was an older, bearded man with olive skin and stocky build, wearing the heavy leathers of a royal ranger. There was a piece of insignia on his lapel that indicated the rank of commander, and his dark eyes watched Pacian closely. Aiden walked over to meet them, and to head off any trouble that Pacian might be walking into.

  “Sir Aiden Wainwright, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” the burly old ranger greeted him in a gruff but friendly voice.

  “You must be Commander Armin Wise,” Aiden replied respectfully, shaking hands with the ranger. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “I’m sure you have,” Armin chuckled, glancing at his two companions, revealing that while they were sitting together, there was still some tension in thie midst. “Colt told me of your accomplishments, both recent and back in winter. Impressive work from all of you, I must say, though your friend seems to have some unresolved issues.”

  “You wouldn’t know it from all the things that are going right in his life lately,” Aiden muttered, wishing Pacian could get his act together. “I’m glad to see you made it here. How many rangers did you bring along?”

  “Twelve, not including Mona, who decided to neglect her duties to join us.”

  “It’s nice to see you again,” Aiden said as she gazed at him with her large, angular green eyes that seemed to stare right into his soul.

  “I hope you are keeping well,” she replied with a slight inclination of her head.

  “I see you’ve still got whats-his-name with you,” Colt remarked, nodding towards Robert.

  “He’s not as bad as you might think,” Aiden answered.

  “Yeah, lots of mass-murderers are actually really nice people underneath,” Colt grunted sarcastically, drawing an alarmed look from his two companions.

  “Who is that man?” Commander Armin asked suspiciously.

  “Just a former soldier who’s advising Her Highness on military matters,” Aiden replied hastily, with a meaningful look at Colt.

  “He’s a mercenary, not a soldier,” Colt growled. “There’s a difference, mate.”

  “Mercenaries,” Armin snorted derisively. “The king frowns upon employing such people, unless absolutely necessary.”

  “It is absolutely necessary,” Aiden replied emphatically.

  “I’ll take your word for it. I’ve spoken with Sir Leonard about our role here,” Armin said, looking at Aiden shrewdly, “and for the next few days we will be patrolling far from the fort, keeping an eye out for enemy movements in this region. If something is coming our way, the fort will have plenty of advance warning. But we still don’t have definitive information about this threat we’re facing. I don’t suppose you can shed some light on the situation?”

  “If you haven’t been told already, I don’t really have the authority to explain more,” Aiden sighed.

  “What’s the use of a knighthood if you’re kept in the dark just like the rest of us?” Colt snorted.

  “Some of us may just be naturally ignorant,” Mona remarked, drawing a dour look from the big ranger.

  “I’m sure you’ll be told when the time comes,” Aiden assured Colt, noticing the tension return among the three. “Thanks for bringing your group here. I’ll leave you be and go have a word with Pace.”

  “I’ll give you a hand,” Colt grunted abruptly, rising from his chair without looking back at the others.

  “What was all that about?” Aiden asked quietly as they headed towards the bar.

  “You remember that business between me, Armin and Mona, right?” Colt responded under his breath, drawing a nod from Aiden. “I spent the past month or so cleaning up my act. Quit drinking, cut down on the swearing and well, just showed her that I can be a better man.”

  “You’re a saint,” Aiden drawled.

  “Thanks for humouring me,” Colt answered. “Anyway, I finally got sick of her silence so I put her on the spot, told her to choose one of us and put the matter to rest. She hasn’t answered yet.”

  “That explains the tension at that table,” Aiden remarked. “What if she chooses neither of you?”

  “Huh. I hadn’t thought of that,” Colt muttered as they leaned on the bar next to Pacian. He was completely focused on his vythiric dagger, twirling it slowly and doing untold damage to the counter top.

  “Pace, you’ve been pretty busy I see,” Aiden observed, tilting the empty pitcher over to peer at the remaining foam inside. “Maybe you should go easy on the beer while we’re at war?”

  “Bugger that, I can hold me drink,” Pacian slurred before turning to regard Aiden with a drunken leer. “Aiden! I thought I was hearing voices. Is great to see you, I’m pretty bloody hammered just now, wot.”

  “Was I ever this bad?” Colt whispered self-consciously.

  “You’re a bit of a mess, Pace,” Aiden lamented, ignoring Colt. “What would Nellise say if she saw you like this?” The smirk disappeared from Pacian’s face and he looked sad all of a sudden.

  “She’s always telling me to stop drinking, but she doesn’t know what’s going on in here,” he confided in a harsh whisper, tapping his head with one finger. “The beer shuts up the voices for a while, helps me keep it together.”

  “And here I was thinking it was woman troubles,” Colt grunted. “Are you telling me that Nellise and he finally got together?” Aiden nodded absently. “Mate, you don’t know how great you’ve got it,” the big ranger said to Pacian, roughly clapping one hand on his shoulder. “Women are tolerant to a point, but if you keep acting like this, you’re gonna lose her. Take it from me.” Pacian seemed to wobble unsteadily on his bar stool, staring at the dagger morosely.

  “She can’t ever find out,” he whispered to the weapon. “I’ll lose her for sure if she learns the truth.”

  “Lying to her will lose her almost as quickly,” Colt confided from his years of experience. “If you can’t be honest with each other, it’s doomed from the start, mate. Now, let’s get you to bed.” Pacian ignored this comment and kept on talking.

  “How do you do it, Aiden? How do you sleep at night with the faces of those you’ve killed staring at you from the darkness?” Aiden couldn’t answer right away, as he sometimes wondered h
ow he could do it as well.

  “Somehow, I get by,” he finally said, “but you were never the squeamish type, Pace. You were the one who slept like a baby after putting some shady bastard six feet under.”

  “Things have changed,” Pacian whispered. “They’re all waiting for me, out there in the shadows… Nel was right, you know. That old argument of ours? She won, and I’m paying the price.” He suddenly leaped to his feet and grasped Aiden by the lapels on his longcoat, a bleary intensity in his green eyes.

  “How was I supposed to know?” he spat, enveloping Aiden in a fog of beer-breath. “The bitch lied to me, and it all made sense at the time…”

  “What the hell are you talking about,” Aiden coughed, trying to pry his friend loose.

  “I was tricked! There was so much going on there, secrets within secrets, and I made a mistake, Aiden. You’ve gotta believe me! So much blood… I’m swimming in it… Tosh, I’m so sorry…”

  “Easy, Pace, I believe you!” Aiden shouted as his friend finally let go and staggered around, trying to find his balance. He pulled the dagger out of the wooden counter and swung it around wildly, almost cutting Aiden in the process. As soon as Colt saw this, his eyes bulged in shock and he responded with his fist. Pacian probably didn’t feel a thing as he crashed to the floor, which was probably for the best.

  “That was inevitable, I suppose,” Aiden sighed as he looked down upon his comatose friend.

  “Once someone draws a weapon, yeah, it’s nap time,” Colt growled unapologetically as he flexed his fingers. “Give me a hand to drag him up to his room, would ya?” As they marched him off towards the stairs, Aiden caught sight of Robert chuckling at the scene through a cloud of cigar smoke.

  After the two men deposited Pacian in his bed and closed the door, Colt took hold of Aiden’s arm and brought him to a halt in the hallway.

  “You and I went through hell together, mate,” he whispered harshly. “We don’t owe each other anything when you get right down to it, but if you know something about what we’re facing, I wanna hear about it, for old time’s sake.”