Soldiers of Avarice

by Stephen L. Nowland

  Concerned about Nellise’s continued absence, Aiden left the camp to look around for her. After a few minutes of searching through the bushes and sparse trees that dotted the landscape, he found her kneeling on the other side of the mausoleum.

  She looked bedraggled as she gazed up at the stone structure before her with wide, red-rimmed eyes while clutching her tiny sword amulet in one hand. Moving closer, Aiden realized she was praying.

  It was a peaceful scene, a moment of quiet reflection after the chaotic times they’d gone through in recent days. Aiden stood a few yards away, idly pondering Sayana’s words and what she could have meant, until Nellise spoke up.

  “Why us?” she asked quietly, still looking up at the mausoleum.

  “Excuse me?” Aiden blurted, having taken a moment to realize she was talking to him.

  “Of all the people who could have dealt with this problem, why did it have to be us?” Nellise clarified.

  Aiden thought for a minute before answering. “There’s a power vacuum in this country now, as we’ve learned in our travels,” he explained. “I didn’t realize the peace of the kingdom was such a fragile thing, but there it is. Take away nearly all of the people keeping us safe, and we find out what it was they were keeping us safe from. Someone has to step into that gap, I suppose; it’s the way of things.

  “I read a saying during my research,” he continued after a moment’s pause, “from a wise man who lived so long ago his name has been forgotten. ‘Nature abhors a vacuum,’ he said.

  “If we hadn’t done it, maybe the Akorans would have taken over. Maybe callous noblemen like Ronald Bartlett would have divided up the kingdom for themselves. We were in the right place at the right time to make a difference. Mind you, I’d be the first to admit that we were in way over our heads.”

  “That is an understatement,” Nellise whispered, wiping a tear from her cheek and turning to look directly at Aiden with knowing eyes. “The price was too high, though, for all of us. I saw Pacian’s face when you were fighting those men. I have rarely seen such unbridled savagery, even in the barbarians we fought.”

  “Of course he was angry; he cares about you,” Aiden protested. “I would have thought you’d appreciate a little righteous anger, given the situation. I was filled with it myself, as it happens.”

  Nellise put her healing crystal back into its pouch and retrieved a small selection of herbs, as well as a mortar and pestle. “There is a difference between righteousness and enjoying the slaughter,” she admonished him, while grinding the herbs together. “I fear Pace has come to an important decision, and despite my best efforts to show him a better way, he has chosen a dark road to walk.”

  Aiden remained silent, finding the bleak assessment of his closest friend a little too discomfiting. “You seemed to be praying when I arrived,” he eventually said, as a way of changing the subject. “Does this place hold some special significance to you?”

  “The grounds have been sanctified and blessed,” Nellise breathed. “I am praying for the souls of all those who were murdered in that cave.”

  Colt, Pacian and Sayana entered the clearing at that moment, packed and ready to go. “I don’t mean to rush you or anything,” Colt grunted, “but we’re all pretty eager to get back to town.”

  “Gather around, and I shall take care of those bruises you seem to enjoy complaining about.”

  “You seem a little better than before,” Pacian observed hopefully, sitting close to her, but wary about sitting too close.

  “I’m trying to deal with the issue, with God’s help,” she informed him tiredly. Her eyes seemed to stare at nothing for a long, still moment, and then she added, “I’ll survive, but I think my days of traveling with you are over. I shall be returning to the chapterhouse at Culdeny after I rest up in Bracksford, and fall back into a normal life of hard work and prayer. This life of adventure has lost its appeal.”

  “I don’t think any of us would dispute your decision,” Aiden said soberly, as Nellise took out her crystal in preparation for healing prayers, despite her fatigue. “If there’s anything we can do to help, you only have to ask.”

  Sayana remained a source of troubling thoughts for Aiden. She was obviously keeping her distance from him, leaving him to ponder her earlier words as they traveled.

  Was she correct in assuming the dragon had turned him into some kind of puppet? It had mentioned there was something important to be done if he traveled to Fairloch, the capital of Aielund, but it hadn’t elaborated on the nature of the task.

  Once they set out, it wasn’t long before the terrain around them transformed from the snow-covered hills of the south to the open plains of Bracksfordshire’s farmlands. The sky remained clear for the rest of the day, and although a modicum of warmth from the winter sun was shining down, none of them could truly enjoy it after what they’d just lived through.

  Bracksfordshire was renowned for remaining clear of snow, even in the depths of winter, while the surrounding lands were covered in a thick, white blanket. A quirk of the weather patterns kept the farms producing food all year round, making it one of the most important regions in the kingdom, referred to as Aielund’s breadbasket.

  It was just as the sun was beginning to sink below the horizon that, under the wary eyes of the local militia, they arrived at Bracksford’s eastern gate. Clearly, Aiden and his companions had been recognized as they approached, for the gate swung wide before they reached it, and Tara, accompanied by several of her men, waited within.

  “Glad to see you made it back in one piece,” she welcomed them. “Where are the rest?”

  Aiden held his silence for a moment, unable to find the words to express what they had seen. Tara was able to guess why he held his tongue, and she lowered her head in dismay.

  “All of them?” she whispered, drawing a nod from Aiden. Behind him, he could hear Nellise crying softly.

  “We were ambushed on the way in,” Aiden explained with a heavy heart. “The rest of your people had already been captured, and were killed shortly thereafter. We were lucky to make it out alive.

  “But we did what we set out to do. Erag Black-Tiger is dead, and Morik Far-Eagle is attempting to reclaim power. Without any other challengers, he should be successful.

  “Even if he fails, they’ll be so disorganized I doubt they’ll be any trouble, for the time being at least. You should send word to Coldstream as soon as you’re able. Oh, and we stole a map of their plans, by the way; take a look.”

  He pulled out the rolled-up sheet of parchment and handed it over to the sergeant. “This is incredible, Aiden,” she breathed, not so much at the map, but the overall scale of their accomplishment.

  “At least our people didn’t die in vain. It looks like the Akorans wanted to move in, instead of destroying the town itself. Fair enough, I suppose; it must be hard, living down there in the mountains all year round. It also says something here about another group coming in from the north?”

  “I noticed that too,” Colt interjected. “Damn generous of them to write it down in Aielish. I think they were going to try a flanking maneuver, but since they’ve lost their leadership, I doubt that’s going to happen now.”

  “I’ll have my people keep an eagle eye out anyway,” she replied, her voice heavy with grief. “I’ll also notify the families of those who fell. If things settle down in Akora, I’ll advise that we should send someone down there to make contact and see if we can retrieve the bodies of our people for burial.”

  “You might have to wait a few weeks, but their families will appreciate it,” Colt advised.

  “Thanks again for your efforts,” Tara continued while she glanced at each of them. “You all look like you’ve been through hell.”

  “You have no idea,” Aiden muttered, finding the effort to keep standing more difficult with each passing second.

  “Let’s get you back to the inn. I’ll go debrief the mayor after he’s finished talking with Princess Criosa.”

  “Th
e princess is here?” Aiden asked Tara incredulously.

  “Yes; didn’t he mention an important personage was coming through town from Fort Highmarch soon?”

  “I vaguely remember something about that being mentioned,” Aiden said, “but I didn’t realize that’s who he meant.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing we stopped the Akorans, then,” Pacian said. “Imagine if they’d come through here tomorrow morning, while we had bloody royalty staying in town.”

  Everyone was silent for a moment as this hastily-blurted opinion was digested. A terrible feeling welled up within Aiden as his foggy mind started putting things together.

  “Why would the Akorans write in Aielish?” he mumbled, glancing at Colt.

  “They wouldn’t,” the ranger answered slowly, with both men realizing they were missing something very important.

  Tara suddenly stiffened and gasped, then staggered forward. A trickle of blood escaped her lips before she toppled face-first into the ground. The horror of the moment didn’t instantly register for any of the militia, but Aiden noticed the crossbow bolt embedded in her back and quickly drew his sword.

  At that moment, all hell broke loose in Bracksford, as crossbow bolts started flying through the air, taking down the militia in rapid succession. A cry of alarm went up, and the remaining militia moved to respond.

  Looking around frantically for the archers, Aiden spied seven men crouched near one of the houses lining the road through town, their crossbows sending a steady stream of bolts into the surprised defenders.

  The men were wearing chainmail armor, full-face helmets, and tabards emblazoned with the symbol of a great cat. Until that moment, Aiden had been paralyzed with shock and fatigue, but now he realized who was attacking — the mercenaries of the Steel Tigers, under the command of Robert Black.

  The militia, devoid of leadership, began shooting bolts at random at the attackers. The enemy’s shots were far more accurate and deadly, dropping four men and women of the town guard where they stood.

  Sayana blasted a stream of fire at the mercenaries, torching one of them and forcing the others to pull back. Aiden and Colt, thinking alike, took advantage of the diversion to join the militia advancing on the enemy. With their combined assault, they finished off the remaining soldiers in a furious exchange of blows, then paused for a moment’s breath and took stock of the situation.

  The sounds of screaming women and children echoed down the street, but the remaining militia nearby were engaging more soldiers. Colt swapped out his greatsword for the longbow and began to string it, while Sayana began to glow softly as she wreathed her body in a shimmering layer of spectral armor, much like the kind Aiden had invoked in the caves.

  Looking back at the gate, Aiden saw that Pacian was comforting Nellise, who was crouched on the ground next to Tara, her hands over her face and clearly distraught. Aiden rushed back over to Tara’s side and gently turned her over. Her eyes gazed vaguely ahead as she slipped away.

  “Get ... to the ... inn,” Tara whispered with her last breath. Nellise was in tears as she used her fingers to gently close Tara’s eyelids while they took a brief moment to mourn her passing.

  Aiden moved closer, using his body to shield them while his weary brain tried to formulate a plan of action. Colt was aiding the town defenders where he could, loosing arrows at opportune targets.

  “What the hell is going on here?” Pacian asked loudly, as if expecting the world itself to answer.

  “We have to get to the inn and secure it,” Aiden replied, his voice sounding distant from exhaustion. “Nel, I hate to ask this, but we need you to focus. Innocent people are dying here; do you understand?”

  The distraught young woman looked up and nodded silently, her eyes rimmed with red.

  “I could use some support over here!” Colt yelled, evidently running low on arrows. “Keep together and support each other; don’t let them divide us up. These are professional soldiers, not a bunch of morons.”

  “Don’t be so sure about that,” Pacian warned cynically. “They may surprise you.”

  Aiden ignored him and pressed forward, charging into a small group of mercenaries who were cutting down twice their number in overwhelmed militia fighters. Able to provide little more than a distraction, he swept his scepter back and forth, striking armor more than flesh.

  Two of them turned to engage, forcing Aiden to keep them busy by heaving his weapon back and forth in broad swings, buying Pacian time to get into position. With his daggers flashing, he stabbed each of them in the back through the gaps in their armor, making short work of the unsuspecting warriors, and then both he and Aiden crouched low when they spotted Nellise aiming in their direction, unleashing a stream of crossbow bolts into the remaining mercenaries.

  The militia fighters were upon them in a flash, taking advantage of the diversion to overwhelm the soldiers, who were being struck from two flanks.

  “Keep moving towards the inn!” Aiden cried aloud, hoping the militia would recognize the order and assist him and his companions in reaching that goal. The main street ahead of them was a scene of chaos in the dim twilight, with townsfolk trying to get to safety and wounded defenders struggling to aid them.

  As much as Aiden wanted to intercede in every engagement, he knew the real prize was Princess Criosa Roebec, the king’s only heir. Killing or even kidnapping a member of the royal family would have far-reaching ramifications.

  They pressed on, moving down the mud-filled street as fast as they could manage, with Aiden trying to ignore his screaming muscles. A townsman trying to defend his wife and child from a mercenary who had burst into their home cried out for help and received it, as Nellise and Colt sent arrows and bolts to cut down the enemy in short order.

  “Barricade the door, and do not come out until this is over!” Aiden shouted over the din of screams and bloodshed as he slammed the front door and kept running for the inn. The smell of smoke started to fill the air, and the glow of fires could be seen against the twilight sky as they moved onward, until they finally spotted the Bracksfordshire Arms Inn just up the street.

  Four mercenaries were holding the front of the inn as militia crossbowmen attempted to cut them down. The soldiers held their shields locked together, providing a wall to protect them against attack. Sensing time was of the essence, Aiden raised his magical scepter and spoke the command word.

  A beam of brilliant light seared the mercenaries as he swept it across their armored bodies. Screams and smoke drifted into the air as their defense crumbled, leaving them open to attack from the militia. With Colt and Nellise adding their own weaponry to the task, the four mercenaries were quickly eliminated.

  The door to the inn was shut as Aiden and the others hurried forward. Colt crashed into the door shoulder first, but there were others inside holding it shut. The big man roared as he slammed his shoulder into the door once again, then stepped back and brought his sword to bear.

  The others stood back as Colt sent great chunks of wood flying with each hit. The sound of screaming from inside could be heard even over the din, and Colt redoubled his efforts. With a great roar, he brought the door down, revealing the dimly-lit interior of the entryway beyond.

  What was beyond the door, however, was not a group of mercenaries waiting to strike down whoever entered. There were three of them on the ground, bleeding from numerous wounds and no longer a threat.

  Aiden cautiously moved into the common room, glancing around at the faces of the frightened townsfolk, men and women he had come to know over the time he had spent here, clutching each other in shocked silence.

  To his left, he saw the innkeeper, Tom, leaning against the wall, sporting some nasty bruises on his face. His daughter, Aislin, huddled underneath a table nearby, her eyes wide with fright, having witnessed whatever had been done to her father and been powerless to do anything about it.

  Before him, Aiden saw the mayor sitting at a bar stool, mopping his brow with a piece of cloth. Next to him, a l
arge, bearded man wearing heavy armor and the colors of the Kingdom Guard sat, blood dripping from his helmet as he struggled to stay upright. Other armored men lay around on the floor — some mercenaries, some king’s men who had clearly fought hard to protect their charge and paid with their lives. Of the princess, there was no sign.

  “Mister Wainwright, this is terrible ... terrible,” Olaf gasped, overcome with fear from the unexpected assault on the town. “They attacked without warning and took her!”

  “They took the princess?” Aiden asked. “Where did they take her? Get a hold of yourself, man.”

  “They went out the back door, just past Captain Marshald,” Olaf sputtered, pointing at the rear entrance while trying to regain his composure. Colt and the others had come in behind Aiden, dismayed at the sight before them. Nellise set aside her crossbow and went straight for the wounded officer sitting next to the mayor. She slowly started removing his helmet to examine his injuries.

  “How is he?” Aiden asked Nellise.

  “He has suffered a serious head wound,” she replied distractedly. “Give me a minute to see what I can do.”

  “You have to get her back,” the officer said, his voice slurred. “This whole thing ... must have been planned long in advance. Someone is making a move against the throne.”

  Aiden glanced at his companions and saw a daunted look upon their faces.

  “You need to lie down, Captain,” Nellise advised the soldier. “Right away, if you please.”

  “It is my duty to protect the Princess, and I will do so while I still draw breath,” he replied stoically.

  “If you don’t lie down, you won’t be breathing much longer,” the acolyte insisted. Marshald gave her a bleary look and then relented. While Nellise set about treating his injury, a young woman wearing the armor and cloak of the town militia stumbled in through the door and saluted nobody in particular.