Inferno

by Paul J Bennett

  Rugg looked at his chieftain. "Your orders, Zahruhl?"

  In answer, the great Orc turned to his shamaness. "Your thoughts?"

  Voruhn gave careful thought before replying. "Let them suffer the fate of Garok."

  A smile crept over the face of Zahruhl. "An excellent idea," he said. "Take them away and prepare the punishment. We shall see how much favour the Ancestors show them."

  * * *

  Kargen sat in silence, his hands bound behind his back. Across from him, Shaluhk was calm despite the unknown punishment that awaited them. They were under guard in a small hut while the sound of axes on wood echoed outside.

  "What are they doing?" demanded Kargen.

  His guard answered with a blow to the head. Kargen spat blood but said no more. The axes fell silent and then the door opened to reveal Voruhn.

  "It is time," she announced.

  The guard prodded Kargen with the tip of his spear. "Get up," he commanded.

  Shaluhk, seeing her bondmate's look of refusal, stood. "Let us show courage in the face of adversity," she declared.

  He nodded, mimicking her actions, and then they were led outside to where the tribe had gathered to witness their punishment. Zahruhl stood nearby, between two frames of wood, each constructed in the shape of an X.

  "I can not order the death of a chieftain," the Orc proclaimed, "and so I commit them to the Ancestors. Kargen and Shaluhk shall be bound to these frames and allowed no food or water. It will be the elements that kill them, not I."

  "Perhaps," offered Voruhn, "the Ancestors will see fit to preserve them."

  Zahruhl chuckled. "Perhaps," he agreed, "but I doubt it. Your journey here has been in vain, Kargen. I shall see you dead within a ten-day, and then I shall invite your people to take shelter within these very walls."

  "My tribe will not submit," proclaimed Kargen. "They would rather die than give up their freedom."

  "We shall see," said Voruhn. "Thirst and starvation can curb the enthusiasm of even the strongest."

  Hunters seized their arms, pinning them by their sides, while Voruhn severed their bonds. They were then pushed into place, their arms and legs tied to the posts, leaving them facing one another.

  "There," said Voruhn. "Now you can watch each other as you slowly succumb to the elements. Tell me, how does it feel to know your bondmate will die?"

  Kargen stared back, pure hatred on his face.

  "We shall leave them," announced Zahruhl, "for they are now in the hands of the Ancestors."

  "You are making a big mistake," warned Kargen.

  "Strong words for one in your position," said Voruhn, "or did you forget it is you who are suffering, not me?"

  Zahruhl appeared indecisive, possibly regretting his decision, but Voruhn quickly intervened. "Pay no attention to him. It is an empty threat."

  Kargen watched as the whole tribe turned their backs, walking away from the scene. Only a pair of hunters remained, standing at a distance to watch over their plight.

  They hung thus for some time, struggling in vain to lessen their bindings.

  "You should have killed him," said Shaluhk, "when you had the chance."

  "I could not bear the thought of your death," he admitted.

  "And yet now we are both doomed."

  "It changes nothing. Even if I had managed to kill him, there was still the matter of all those hunters. We would have been dead either way."

  "At least our deaths would have been quick," she said.

  "Would they? I doubt that very much. If anything, we would have suffered the same fate, but instead of just standing here, we would be bleeding to death. Maybe this is better after all."

  "Better? It will take a long time for us to pass to the Afterlife. How can you possibly think it better to end like this?"

  "Tell me. You are the healer. What can we expect?"

  "The initial thirst will come first, but once we get past that, it will be bearable. The bindings are likely to grow increasingly uncomfortable, and once we weaken, they will grow worse as they have to support our weight."

  Kargen frowned. "Stop. I think it better if I do not know. We must face this with dignity."

  "It will be difficult, my love, for our strength will slowly wane. Death may take time to claim us."

  "How much time?"

  "A ten-day at least, but no more than two. Do you still think this is better than dying in the hut?"

  "I do," he replied, "but not for the reason you might think."

  "Go on," she urged.

  "Had you died in there, I would have taken vengeance, but Zahruhl, or Voruhn, would not allow me a clean death, that much is clear."

  "And how is that better?"

  "I could not let you journey to the Afterlife alone. I would be by your side, even in death."

  She smiled despite the discomfort. "Then we shall take this last trip together, as it should be."

  The Master

  Autumn 1104 SR

  * * *

  Athgar sipped his drink, taking in the occupants of the room.

  "Nervous?" asked Natalia.

  "With all these Cunars about? You'd better believe it. And what about Master Talivardas? How in the Continent did he end up in charge of the order?"

  "He's the regional master, not the grand master."

  "What's the difference?"

  "The grand master oversees the entire order," she said, "whereas a regional master only looks after one region. In this case, the northeast area of the Continent. In rank, he's still only a commander."

  "That doesn't make me feel any better," said Athgar. "Do you think he's the one who called for the crusade?"

  "No, he doesn't have the authority."

  "Then who does?"

  Natalia gave it some thought before answering. "The Primus is the usual culprit."

  "And he is?"

  "Do you know nothing of the Church?"

  Athgar pointed at himself. "Old Gods, remember?"

  She smiled. "Each of the six orders sends a representative to something called the Council of Peers. From their number, they elect a single representative to lead them, and he's referred to as the Primus. He's also the ultimate power behind the Church."

  "And no one else could order a crusade?"

  "I suppose the grand master of the order could."

  "Which do you think is more likely in this case?"

  She looked around the room. "I'd say the grand master. Look around you. Aside from Brother Rickard, we have seen little of any orders other than the Cunars. If the Primus had ordered it, we'd see a more noticeable presence of the others."

  Athgar glanced around, ensuring no one could overhear. "How long do you suppose the master's been a Stormwind?"

  "You saw his ring; he's powerful. He would have been trained at the Volstrum long before he took service with the order."

  "How long does it take to rise to the position of a regional master?"

  "Decades," Natalia replied, "but I doubt he did it without help."

  "Meaning?"

  "The family is not above using murder. We know that from first-hand experience. I imagine other candidates either died or withdrew from consideration, likely the result of applied pressure."

  "What kind of pressure could you exert against a Temple Knight?"

  "Remember Corassus?" she said. "Brother Cyric indicated many of the Cunar knights didn't follow the rules regarding celibacy. That kind of information could prove harmful when it came to promotions."

  "And so Talivardas fought his way to the top?” mused Athgar.

  "Not quite. He still has a grand master to contend with."

  "Do you think the grand master is a member of the family as well?"

  "I doubt it, but then again, I wouldn't have thought it possible for a regional master of the order to be one."

  "So where does that leave us?"

  "It doesn't change our priorities," she replied. "We came here to find out more about the army—that still stands. This extr
a information complicates matters, but we must put it aside for the time being. We have more important work to do."

  "Agreed. Let's see if we can't find an office to break into. It worked in Caerhaven; maybe it'll work here?"

  "It's worth a try."

  Making their way through the crowd, they stopped from time to time to listen in on conversations, trying hard not to be noticed. They picked a route that would take them to the stairs, believing anything of interest might lie on the top floor, but as they were about to take the first step, Athgar suddenly stopped.

  "What is it?" asked Natalia.

  "That guard," he said, "he's a Therengian. Look at his eyes."

  Natalia noticed the man in question. He was dressed in the livery of Duke Heinrich, a common foot soldier by the look of him. He was wearing a conical helm, complete with a nose guard, but there was no mistaking the colour of his eyes.

  "Can others not have grey eyes?" she asked.

  "It is the mark of my people," said Athgar. "A dominant trait handed down through succeeding generations, and yet he is not dressed like a Therengian. How can this be?"

  "Your people were subjugated, likely many chose to live amongst their conquerors. That man looks to be a descendant of your forbearers."

  "Is such a thing even possible?"

  "You forget, Therengia was a large realm, taking up almost a third of the area of the Petty Kingdoms. That many people don't simply disappear."

  "I suppose that makes sense, but I always thought they were relegated to villages like Athelwald. It appears the Continent is full of surprises."

  He turned his attention back to the stairs, but a pair of Temple Knights had moved to block them.

  "Is there a problem?" asked Natalia.

  "Guests are not allowed," the knight responded.

  "Very well," she replied, taking Athgar's arm and pulling him back into the crowd. She lowered her voice. "It appears we have garnered some interest. Those guards are watching us."

  "Then we shall avoid doing anything to bring further attention to ourselves."

  Natalia squeezed his arm. "See that man over there? The one in the green surcoat?"

  "What of him?"

  "He's a Ragnarite," she said, "a Temple Knight of Saint Ragnar."

  "Remind me what that means?"

  "They hunt Necromancers."

  "It makes sense," said Athgar, "doesn't it? Brother Rickard indicated the Church believes we're all death worshippers."

  "Yes," she agreed, "and that makes our Ragnarite the most dangerous man in the room."

  "I'm not sure I follow."

  "Ragnarites often work alone. As such, they are the most proficient warriors when it comes to one-on-one combat. Not only that, but he has complete control over the search for Death Mages. If he makes a discovery, people will act."

  "We must convince him this entire campaign is flawed."

  "No," she said, "not yet, at least."

  "Why not?"

  "Merely approaching him would bring unwanted attention. He's more likely to arrest us, and then where would we be? No, we must give him no reason to suspect our true purpose here."

  Natalia led him away from the Ragnarite, steering him towards a distant door. "With all these Cunars about, it's beginning to get a little uncomfortable."

  "Perhaps we'd better leave?" Athgar suggested.

  "How many Temple Knights do you reckon are here?"

  "You mean on guard or as guests?"

  "Both."

  "Well," he said, "I've seen at least two dozen standing at doors and whatnot, and I'd say there's at least thirty more wandering around. Any way you look at it, there's a significant number."

  "Yes, and a fair number would have stayed behind in their commandery."

  "What makes you say that? Wouldn't they all be here, where the master of their order is?"

  "You forget," Natalia said, "they took vows. They tend not to congregate where women gather. They believe it helps them avoid temptation."

  "And yet there are plenty of women here," noted Athgar. "Does that mean the guards have broken their vows?"

  "No, they're here on duty."

  "That's true for the guards, but what about the others?"

  "Temple Knights of Saint Cunar are not known to socialize, at least not the common rank and file. I suspect the people wandering around are senior officials, officers subordinate to the father general."

  "That would indicate something big is in the works."

  "My thoughts exactly," said Natalia. "I should very much like to work our way back to the duke. If plans are being made, we should be present."

  "Fair enough…" He was about to say more, but something caught Natalia's attention. "Something wrong?" he asked.

  She stood on the tips of her toes, peering through the crowd. "I thought I saw someone," she said.

  "Who?"

  "I'm not sure."

  "You're not sure if you saw someone?"

  "No, I'm not sure who I saw. His face was familiar, but I couldn't place him."

  Athgar cast his eyes about. "Where?"

  "Over that way, but he disappeared into the crowd."

  "Should we be worried?"

  "Not yet, but if he shows up again, I'll point him out. In the meantime, let's find the duke, shall we?"

  They wandered around, finally finding Lord Deiter Heinrich in the company of Sir Raynald.

  "There you are," greeted the knight. "I was wondering where you'd gotten to."

  "Enjoying the place?" asked Lord Deiter.

  "It's quite impressive," said Natalia. "Tell me, who lived here before the father general?"

  "I understand it was owned by the rulers of this city. A nasty bunch, I'm told. We kicked them out in the last crusade."

  "When was that?"

  "About five years ago. To my knowledge, it was the last independent city in the north."

  "Meaning?" asked Athgar.

  "An independent city has its own leaders, much like Corassus."

  "I thought Corassus was a city-state?"

  "It is," said the duke. "The two are essentially the same thing. Mind you, Corassus is run by a group of merchants. Here, the leader was a barbarian or so I'm told."

  Athgar scowled. "Why is it we label those that don't conform to our beliefs as barbarians?"

  "It's not their beliefs that set them apart," said Lord Deiter, "but their culture. They're a primitive race."

  "Then how is it they had a city?" asked Athgar, his face growing red.

  "I'm sure I can't say. Possibly they conquered it? It wouldn't be the first time a city fell to a group of outsiders. Mind you, if the architecture of the city is any indication, Ebenstadt is very old."

  "Do you think it was part of Therengia?" suggested Sir Raynald.

  "Maybe," mused the duke. "I wish I'd learned more history when I was younger. Wasn't their last stand somewhere around here?"

  "I believe that was closer to Draybourne," said Athgar. "They had a statue there commemorating it."

  "Maybe this was a regional capital?" suggested Natalia. "It was a large kingdom after all."

  The duke looked around the room. "That would certainly explain the presence of a place like this. Still, that would have been what, five hundred years ago?"

  "Closer to six," said Sir Raynald. "The last of the successor states was captured in 603."

  They all looked at him in surprise.

  "It's a particular interest of mine," he explained.

  "What could possibly interest you about an ancient kingdom?" asked the duke.

  "Most of our armies are modelled after them," the knight explained, "and they're the ones who standardized their military organization. Of course, they didn't have the cavalry we have these days, but their footmen were said to be invincible."

  The duke barked out a laugh. "Well, that's obviously not true, or they wouldn't have fallen."

  "Still," Sir Raynald persisted, "we owe much to them in terms of tactics."

  "N
onsense," said the duke. "They are a conquered people. The very tactics they developed led to their inevitable defeat."

  "I understood they collapsed through internal strife," said Athgar. "Is that not true?"

  "There is always speculation," said Sir Raynald, "but the truth is we shall never really know for sure. Most of their records were lost to history. Even so, what little we do know is often studied by those interested in the art of war."

  "War is not an art," said the duke, "but rather a bloodbath. It is numbers that tell in the end, not fancy manoeuvres."

  "You must tell me more of these Therengians," said Athgar. "They sound like a fascinating people. Do you know much about their culture?"

  "No," replied the knight. "Only their military history, and even that information is often contradictory. How about you? What have you heard?"

  "I know very little," said Athgar, "though maybe Natalia might be able to tell you more."

  "Therengia was not studied during my training," she confessed. "But I have since learned a few things here and there."

  "Such as?" pressed the knight.

  Natalia briefly looked at Athgar, unsure of how much to reveal. "They had a standing militia, didn't they?"

  "Yes, that's right, the fyrd," said Sir Raynald. "Though I doubt it was very effective. Therengia's strength lay in its professional army. Some say it was the first on the Continent."

  "Surely not," said the duke. "Professional soldiers have been around since the dawn of time, haven't they?"

  "They have," admitted the knight, "but not in such numbers. Therengia was the first kingdom to create a permanent standing army. Its warriors were said to be the best trained anywhere."

  "It's all a myth if you ask me," said the duke. "I'll put my faith in the modern knight. There's no footmen in the world who could stand against them."

  "Knights cannot fight alone," said Sir Raynald. "You still need footmen and archers to win battles."

  "I'm not denying that, but it's the knights who give us the decisive edge. Ask the father general; he'll tell you." The duke tore his eyes away, scanning the crowd. "Where in the Continent did he get to?"

  A Temple Knight approached, bowing his head. "Your Grace, Master Talivardas asks you to come with me. The meeting is about to commence."