Soldiers of Avarice

by Stephen L. Nowland

  “Get him out of here!” Nellise yelled over the tumult as she dashed past, pushing Aiden and Colt backward down the stairs. Exhausted as she was, Nellise pushed through the rocks and managed to grab the back of Sayana’s belt as the remaining light from her staff was obscured and the rest of the ceiling came crashing down. The sounds of screaming could be heard over the thunderous noise just before Aiden was left in darkness and pain.

  When the roar of falling rock had finally subsided, the unnatural silence of the dead city returned. Aiden sprawled next to Colt at the bottom of the stairwell, both of the men coughing in the cloud of dirt that had been dumped on them.

  From the sounds of ragged breathing, Clavis and Pacian were nearby, having been furthest from the devastation. There was no light whatsoever. Everything Aiden knew about his surroundings was based solely on his hearing.

  Between the spearhead lodged in his leg and the fall, his whole body was in agony. His right arm was practically useless, and he felt the warmth of blood streaming from several other smaller wounds.

  A brief flash of light pierced the stifling darkness as someone began striking flint and steel to ignite a torch. It took several tries before the sparks caught and the torch flared into life.

  Pacian held it high to take in the scene. He was covered in dirt, but otherwise still standing. Clavis was next to him, searching through the rubble for signs of life while ignoring the cuts and bruises he’d received from the falling rock.

  “Ah, found ’em,” he exclaimed, spying Colt slowly pushing rocks and dirt off his body to get to his feet. “Hold still, man, ya might have a broken bone or three.”

  “I’m fine,” the big ranger choked, coughing some more to disprove his point. “Nothing broken, though it’s not for a lack of trying.”

  “What about Nel and Sayana?” Aiden managed to croak.

  “I think they’re a little further up the stairs,” Colt said grimly, dusting off his leathers. “Which means they’re at least partially buried under that rock.”

  “They might still be alive,” Pacian said stubbornly, wedging the torch into nearby rocks and moving up the stairs to begin excavating.

  “Aye, there’s always a chance, lad,” Clavis said, keeping his voice neutral. “You two make a start on it; I’ll tend to Aiden’s wounds a bit.”

  He came in closer and carefully examined Aiden’s leg. “I’m broken up pretty badly, aren’t I,” Aiden breathed, already knowing what Clavis was going to say.

  “There’s no foolin’ ya,” he muttered, taking off his belt and folding it over, then leaning forward and offering it for Aiden to bite down on. “Me belt might taste like dirt, but it’ll do the job.

  “Just think of it as a really tough steak, and I’ll put you back together as best I can. I gotta take out this spear first, and then I’m gonna set your leg,” Clavis informed him, clearly not a proponent of the ignorance-is-bliss line of thought.

  The dull ache numbing Aiden’s senses became a sharp pain. He stifled a scream as Clavis pulled the spearhead out of his wounded leg. His breath came in short gasps and he was covered in sweat, but the spear was out.

  “You’re doin’ real good, lad,” Clavis assured him, taking out a small flask and splashing its contents into the wound. Aiden bit back another scream as the burn from alcohol cleansed the wound. “When we’ve dug Nellise out, we’ll be using some o’ those healing flasks she was given back in town to fix you quicker, but right now I need to spend a few minutes to clean ya up a bit before I set this leg in place.”

  Aiden nodded, resting his head back against the least uncomfortable rock he could find as he caught his breath. A few seconds later, his leg exploded with pain as Clavis set the broken bone back into place with one swift, sharp move.

  Aiden’s last thought, before the blackness rolled over him, was lying bastard.

  Chapter Twelve

  It was almost completely dark when Aiden finally came to, a headache pounding behind his eyes, and sharp pains stabbing the rest of his body. The nearby torch was burning low, its flickering flame no larger than that of a candle. A strong smell was in the air, a kind of damp, musty odor that reminded Aiden of rotting vegetables.

  His leg still ached, and it appeared to have been splinted with the handle of an axe, then wrapped with a combination of torn clothing and bandages. Turning his head slightly, he could see that much of the rock around him had been removed, and in its place was Nellise’s prone form.

  “Took an hour to dig them out,” Pacian said in a hoarse voice to Aiden, sitting beside her. His old friend looked unusually sombre, and didn’t take his eyes from her when he spoke. “Nel took a blow to the head from a bloody big rock. She’s lucky to be alive at all, although there’s no telling how long she’ll be out. After all that effort to armor herself up, she couldn’t have bought a helmet too?”

  Aiden slowly raised himself up to rest on his elbows, wincing at the various pains shooting throughout his body at the slight movement. Nellise’s breathing was shallow, and the parts of her body that weren’t covered by armor were torn and cut or wrapped in bloodied bandages. Clavis, sitting at the base of the stairs, noticed Aiden’s movement and crawled closer to investigate.

  “Ah, good to see yer awake,” he said, checking out the splint on the young man’s right leg. “Ordinarily, I’d say ye’d have to wear this thing for six weeks before ya could walk unaided again, but if — when Nel wakes up, she should hopefully be able to get ya back on yer feet in a few hours.” He produced a small vial, most likely taken from Nellise’s pack, and handed it to Aiden.

  “These little vials are potent healing draughts, so give it a swig,” Clavis advised. Aiden leaned to one side and used a free arm to take the offered medicine, which he drank down in one gulp. It was foul-tasting stuff, but almost immediately he began to feel a tingling throughout his body, particularly the wounded parts.

  “Potent little mixture, innit? That’ll help ya out some, but it’s not nearly enough to fix yer leg. We used most of them to help out Sayana, and we’ve only got one left for when Nel wakes up.”

  Aiden heard a catch in his voice, and with cold realization dawning, began to pay closer attention to their surroundings. The sounds of rapid, shallow breathing could be heard from nearby. Fearing the worst, Aiden carefully dragged himself up the stairs towards the noise, until he could see Colt sitting beside the wild girl, who lay in amongst the rubble.

  The ranger held a torch in one hand, and Sayana’s right hand with the other. Sweat beaded on her brow and her eyes were wide open, but she stared straight up at the stone ceiling and barely noticed Aiden’s approach at all. The spear that had impaled her before she fell had been removed, leaving a gruesome wound that soaked the bandages around her midriff with blood.

  “She should be dead, or at least unconscious, with a wound like that,” Colt said softly, looking down at Sayana without any visible emotion. “I can’t imagine what keeps her hanging on to life, but she’s a tough one, no doubt about it.”

  “Will she live?” Aiden asked, drawing a shrug from the big man.

  “She’s holding steady, though she’s obviously lost a lot of blood. The only reason she’s still breathing is ’cause of those tonics and whatnot we retrieved from Nel’s pack. Before she took ’em, I was holding her guts in with my bare hands, I swear to God.”

  “Hang in there a little longer,” Aiden whispered to Sayana, being careful to keep his voice optimistic. “Once Nellise is awake, she’ll fix you up good and fast, do you understand?”

  Sayana didn’t respond, but she did blink emphatically, which Aiden took as some sort of acknowledgement.

  As he sat watching her cling to life, his sense of relief was replaced with exasperation at their current predicament. “Clavis, when did you say you were here last?” he quietly asked.

  “A few years back,” the dwarf answered, “though I take it ya mean in the city in general, for I ain’t been down this far since I was in short pants.”

&nbs
p; “So, when you say ‘a few years,’ do you mean three?”

  “…Roughly, sure,” Clavis agreed hesitantly.

  “And when you reached that passageway upstairs,” Aiden continued smoothly, “you said it was blocked, so you had to turn around and leave, is that correct?”

  “Aye, and how is this line o’ questioning relevant to our current situation?” Clavis snapped back, apparently feeling the stress.

  “Aiden, maybe this isn’t the time to talk about this,” Pacian advised.

  “We appear to have plenty of time,” Aiden replied coldly. “We found a body, half-buried under the rock fall, and Nellise says it was less than three years old, so it couldn’t have been buried beneath tons of stone if it had already collapsed when you arrived.”

  Clavis leveled a stern glare at him and took a step forward. “What’s yer point?” he growled.

  “I think at least one of your associates died under that rock fall,” Aiden said bluntly. “I think you had a few people with you when you came back here, and they all died in that collapse. But what I can’t figure out is why you felt it necessary to keep that from us.”

  “How can she know how old a skeleton is anyway?” Clavis grunted, dismissing his argument.

  “She’s studied anatomy, for one thing,” Aiden remarked, “and received some divine insights as well. Now, I’m not a particularly religious person,” he added, seeing Clavis scoff at this news, “but Nellise is.

  “We’re still alive today because of her faith and devotion to a higher power, and if that same power says to her that that a body is three years old, I’m inclined to believe her. Can you honestly look me in the eye and tell me she’s wrong? If you can do that, I’ll drop this whole thing right now.”

  “Yer wrong,” Clavis replied with a shrug, but Aiden thought he could detect a lack of conviction in his words.

  “You can lie to us, but you can’t lie to yourself,” he responded. “Look at it this way — if you really believe what happened was an accident, or you’re simply not at fault, tell us. I’m not going to judge your actions with hindsight, or put blame on you where it isn’t due. I need to know the truth.”

  The dwarf stroked his beard absently, never taking his eyes from Aiden until he finally spoke. “Yeah, they died in my keeping,” Clavis eventually said, in little more than a whisper. “I had seven men with me when I came back to claim what was mine, and they all perished in this cursed place. It wasn’t really me own fault, but I still carry the burden, nonetheless.”

  Aiden felt a sinking feeling in his chest when he heard this, not only because the truth had come out, but because lying to get people into this place in search of a lost treasure was exactly what he himself had done, and it had nearly cost them their lives.

  “What the hell is this?” Colt bellowed, standing up and taking a few steps towards the dwarf. “Did you lie to them as well? Blow sunshine up their asses about lost treasures sitting here, waiting to be plundered?”

  “Look, you don’t understand,” Clavis said, his voice laced with an intensity they hadn’t heard from him before. “Do you know who the king of this place was? King Arland MacAliese, one o’ me cousins! There be only seventeen MacAliese’s still alive after the flood, and I’m next in line fer the throne.”

  “I’m not even sure where to start with that,” Pacian retorted. “We’ve found at least three dozen or so of your clan still alive in the city. They’re insane, and tried to kill us, but I’m guessing they’ve more right to the throne of this bloody city than you do. And I’m pretty sure your people back home already have a king.”

  “A bloody MacTavish,” Clavis groaned. “They was making me meals, and cleaning me house when I was a wee lad, and now they think themselves the new nobility? They don’t have the right to lead, and when I get out of here, I’m gonna give ’em a choice between the pretender, Sulinus MacTavish, or meself, a descendant of the real king o’ the dwarves, a proper king.”

  “What is down here that makes you think they’re not going to throw you out on your arse when you try to tell them this load of tripe?” Colt growled.

  “I’ve got me lineage,” Clavis said haughtily, “and that’s enough to get ’em to listen. But they need a symbol, something connected to the old empire to inspire them. King Arland had a war axe that he kept with him most of the time, his own personal weapon, made by our finest artisans out of the rare and valuable mineral we call vythir.

  “Magnificent craftsmanship, and real distinctive, so it can’t be faked. Harder than iron, and it doesn’t rust. I show up with that weapon and it’ll turn some heads, especially the old guard that can remember what life was like back then. They’ll listen, all right, no question.”

  “So that’s what you’re after?” Pacian mused. “And you were prepared to sacrifice us to get it?”

  “No, no it ain’t like that at all,” Clavis said, shaking his head. “After I saw that a group of bandits had set up camp here years ago, I went and hired some likely lads to help clear ’em out. Took some time, since nobody really wanted to come down here, but I finally found me a fearless group o’ lads, and we sent those bandits packing.

  Thing about those boys, though,” he continued, “fearless they may have been, but they had more courage than brains. We got to that tunnel up above, that me and you lot were going to break through, but ya could walk a good fifty paces further along before ya met the old collapsed section back in those days ... before the accident.”

  “So, they started digging, and the roof came down on them, I guess,” Pacian drawled. “How did you manage to be the only survivor?”

  “I was feelin’ some funny vibrations that the others couldn’t, and went to have a look-see,” Clavis explained with a heavy voice. “I did notice the roof was starting to come in, but by the time that happened, it was already too late. They were good lads, and certainly didn’t deserve to go out like that. Anyway, I didn’t mention it to ya, because I was afraid that ya wouldn’t want to come with me if you’d heard me last helpers died ’orribly.”

  “Seems reasonable to me,” Pacian remarked. “But this hair-brained quest of yours to become king is ridiculous. You think an old axe is going to have thousands of your people bowing before you? Not bloody likely. You were right not to mention all this to us. I sure as hell wouldn’t have agreed to come if I’d known.”

  “You don’t seem to understand,” an exasperated Clavis countered. “Me people are being led by the descendants of our servants — our king was a bloody baker, by Relnak. The first big crisis they have, they’ll be in trouble, mark me words.”

  “What does a girl have to do to get some peace around here?”

  The softly-spoken words came from Nellise, instantly quelling the discussion. Aiden carefully moved over to her side. Her golden eyes were open, and she smiled wanly up at them.

  “You have no idea how glad we are to see you awake,” Aiden breathed with genuine relief.

  “What happened?” she asked, slowly touching her head with one hand and wincing at the result.

  “You grabbed Sayana just as the ceiling was coming down,” Pacian explained, gently stroking her hair. “You were hit in the head with a rock. Next time you go to buy armor, include a helmet, okay?”

  “I’ll make a point to remember,” she whispered, very weak. “I see someone did an expert job on the bandages. Pretty soon, you won’t need me at all.”

  “Perish the thought,” Aiden assured her, taking a small vial of liquid that Colt handed to him. “This is one of your healing tonics, Nel, so drink up and get your strength back.”

  She did so, drinking the concoction, then laid her head down again. “I’m having trouble breathing,” she mentioned, shifting her body around to try and resolve the problem.

  “Yer breastplate took a few dings during the rock fall,” Clavis told her. “It’s probably a bit too tight for ya now, so if you lads can take it off, I’ll get me little hammer and see if I can pound it back into shape.”

&n
bsp; “Thank you, Clavis,” Nellise whispered. “For what it’s worth, I’ve been listening to the conversation, and I understand why you acted the way you did. I forgive you for your deception, and the rest of you might consider doing the same. We need to focus on our predicament if we’re to survive.”

  “We’ll get to that in a little while,” Colt grumbled, as he and Aiden undid the straps on Nellise’ breastplate. “As soon as you’re able, Sayana is in need of attention. I honestly don’t know how much longer she’s gonna last.”

  “I knew she was going to be gravely wounded, but it’s good to hear she’s still among the living,” she sighed, as the dented breastplate was lifted away. Clavis took it, giving Aiden a quick, unreadable look, and went over to his pack further down the stairs to do some repairs.

  Nellise was finally able to take a deep breath, and then fished around the inside of her robe for her healing crystal. She examined Sayana’s wound, then made herself as comfortable as one could while sitting upon a stone stairway, and began her prayers.

  It wasn’t long before Aiden began to feel a subtle change in the air as the channeled energy flowed around them. He lay back and closed his eyes for a little while, content for the time being to allow the process to work on his battered body. The rhythmic sounds of Clavis’s hammer striking metal rang out, the dwarf mending Nellise’s armor while she worked.

  A few minutes later, Nellise stopped, slumping to one side, her strength spent. Pacian quickly put his arm around her shoulders and laid her down next to Sayana.

  “She will live,” Nellise whispered, placing a hand on the girl’s arm supportively. Aiden felt improved from the healing, though he still favored his other leg, just in case.

  Sayana was breathing normally now, though he couldn’t tell without taking off the bandage if the wound had healed over completely. Just the fact that her eyes were closed and she seemed to be resting normally was a good sign, so it seemed they were out of trouble for the time being.