The Sanctuary Series: Volume 02 - Avenger

by Robert J. Crane

  Cyrus looked up at the Ghost. “Is this sufficient evidence? If we resurrect Carrack – maybe cut out his tongue so he can't teleport and heal him when we want him to talk?”

  “There are less violent ways to restrain a wizard from teleporting, my friend,” Alaric said with a smile.

  “Not as much fun,” Terian added.

  “With the word of the survivors, the bodies of the goblins, and Carrack,” Curatio said from beside Alaric, “that will convince the King of the Elves.”

  “Even Pretnam Urides would have difficulty ignoring all this evidence, but I would not be surprised if he tried very hard in spite of it,” Alaric agreed. “It might be best to have something more.”

  With a sigh, Cyrus looked up at the Ghost. “If there's any more evidence, it's either in Goliath's guildhall or in the depths of Enterra with the Imperials.”

  A glisten lit the Ghost's eye. “Precisely. It would seem unlikely we could storm Goliath's guildhall, being as it is in the heart of Reikonos, so if you would please... General... make ready the guild for an expedition to Enterra.” Alaric surveyed the room. “We will clear our name – and make warning to all about what happens to those who attempt to stain our honor.”

  A low, grinding feeling in Cyrus's stomach filled him with unease but he looked up at Alaric and nodded, as a cheer filled the hall. At last, I'll have revenge, he thought with a feeling of intense trepidation – and no excitement.

  Chapter 38

  Alaric dismissed them after announcing that they would reassemble for the invasion of Enterra in one hour. Cyrus left, wandering downstairs, ignoring the roars of approval at impeding battle that resonated from Fortin's chamber, shaking the corridor as he made his way to the end of the long, dark stone passage in the dungeons to his cell.

  I've wanted vengeance on these beasts for almost two years, he thought. Now we're going... and I don't know what to think. It's not as if they don't deserve it... killing Narstron... killing all those traders... but why? What's in it for them? I know why Goliath is doing this, but why would the goblins send warriors across Arkaria? He thought again of the soul ruby in Malpravus's hand, and shook his head. What if it worked? What if I could bring back Narstron?

  He stared ahead and his eyes alighted on the sword, the Champion's Blade, assembled and waiting for the scabbard that would make it whole. He shuffled toward it, almost afraid to approach it for fear that his hopes would be dashed. Last time I died in Enterra. So did everyone else. And Narstron never came back.

  He reached down and grasped the hilt; it felt cool to the touch. He tossed his gauntlets aside and felt the pommel, stared at the carving, ran his fingers up to the swordguard, and finally the blade. It was sharp, but heavy, even for him. It was made of material that was stronger than any other he'd seen, but it was not light of weight.

  “Reflecting on your impending triumphs?” Cyrus turned to see Vara leaning against the frame of the cell door. Her posture was almost relaxed, something he hadn't seen from her in a long time.

  “Worrying about my impending battle,” he admitted, tying a strap of leather across his back and tucking the sword into it. “In case you forgot, last time we were in Enterra, it did not end in triumph.”

  “I have a very clear memory of that night,” she replied, straightening up and tucking her hands behind her back. “We also had a much smaller army at our disposal.”

  “They still have us outnumbered ten to one.”

  “Which are very bad odds, on an open field of battle,” she conceded. “But in the confined spaces of Enterra, the victory goes to the strongest fighters – which we have.”

  “I don't know,” he said, slumping onto his cot. “We won't be able to sneak through the gates like we did last time; we have far too many fighters for that.” He looked up at her in surprise. “You didn't come down to my cell to discuss strategy for the battle.”

  She looked at him for a long moment before her eyes flicked down. “I did not. I have all the confidence in the world that whatever your strategy, it will be more than adequate to give us a great victory. I came...” she began with an air of reluctance, “...not to see what you planned to do when we get there, but what you planned for yourself when we come to the end of this. I need to know... if you're going to let your personal feelings cloud your judgment.”

  “I don't know,” he said. “I still want to kill them, the Emperor and Empress. I'd like to wipe out their whole army and disassemble that damned city stone by stone.”

  She crossed the distance between them and lowered herself to sit next to him. “I... understand your feelings. I doubt anyone would begrudge you the right to feel that way. But in pursuing your revenge, what are you willing to sacrifice?”

  “I don't understand.”

  She leaned her head against the wall behind them, armor making a slight scraping noise against the stones of the cell. “Carrack attacked you against his better judgment, I would think, embarrassed because a lowly warrior had killed him. If anyone else from Goliath had been running that attack party, they would have seen you coming and assumed you had others waiting with you.” She laughed lightly. “Actually, they should have seen you coming and assumed somehow you would crush them regardless of how many people you had with you.”

  “Kind words,” he said, still expressionless. “But Carrack had to do what he had to do –”

  “But what he did was wrong, don't you see? It cost him his life – again – and fouled the whole raiding party and their plan in the process! They would have gotten away with it if not for his desire to pay you back for some nonsensical incident that he walked away from with no lasting damage but to his pride.”

  She stood. “And that's what's happened to you. Your friend died, and it hurt. You felt it, in your guts, in your heart, and it stung. But you know what stung worse? Your pride – that you, the warrior, the strongest man I've ever met, couldn't save him. And that sticks in your craw worse than anything else and leaves you with nothing left to do but strike out at the ones you think are responsible.

  “It won't bring him back – and it won't make you feel even a whit better. And if you do something stupid while gaining your revenge, something that gets others killed in Sanctuary, I promise you'll feel worse than you ever did with Narstron, because this time it will be something you could prevent.”

  Her words came spitting out at him like howling winds of a tornado. He looked at her in wonderment. “I'm really the strongest man you've ever met?”

  She froze. “I did say that, didn't I? Oh, bollocks. Yes, you are.” She paused, and annoyance took root on her face. “I deliver an impassioned speech that's incisive and cuts to the heart of your character and pain and that is all you got out of it?”

  “No,” he said. “I heard the rest, too. And you're right. Carrack acted foolishly and doomed his whole force because he wanted revenge on me. I promise you, that no matter what else, I won't put our army in danger for my revenge.”

  She bowed her head. “I believe you. I just wanted to make sure you thought about it before going down there.” She paused and looked down at him. “So what is your plan for Enterra?”

  A rueful smile crossed his face. “I thought you had faith in my strategy, whatever it might be?”

  She made an exasperated sound. “Just because I have faith in your ability to lead the attack does not mean I wish to charge blindly into a mountain filled with goblins.”

  “I'll spell it out for the officers as we're riding there. I have something important for you to do.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Truly? Then I suppose I should prepare.” She turned to leave.

  “One more thing,” he said and she turned back. “When you leave, Fortin might ask you if you kissed me.”

  She looked aghast. “What?!”

  He shrugged. “I don't know. Just tell him yes.”

  “I already know she didn't,” came the rumbling from down the hall.

  Vara bristled at the sound of the rock giant's voic
e. “He heard everything?”

  Cyrus shrugged. “Rock giants have unusually good hearing.”

  “Our sense of smell is pretty decent too,” came Fortin's voice. “Did you know she put on a lilac scent before she came down here? I've never known her to do that before a battle.”

  Vara's pale cheeks reddened; she was more embarrassed than Cyrus had ever seen her. “Say nothing,” she snapped.

  He stared at her and she stared back, and for a moment the silence hung between them unbroken. “You smell nice,” he conceded.

  With a snort of fury, she turned and stormed out the door. Down the hall came the short, sharp laughs of a rock giant who had been soundly entertained.

  Chapter 39

  After a journey of a few hours the Army of Sanctuary was concealed behind the edge of a crater on the slope of a mountain. Inside the crater, jutting up to the mountainside was a keep. Grey stone walls stretched fifty feet into the air above the crater, backing up to the mountain's sheer edges. It was a perfectly defensible keep, wooden gates standing ten feet tall, all defending a secondary gate built into the side of the mountain.

  Cyrus looked down at the walls from his vantage point, hiding at the crater's rim. “All right,” he announced to the force behind him. “Everyone knows what to do?” Nods greeted his statement. “I'd like this better if we had a battering ram, some siege engines and catapults, but we'll make do.” A half-smile curled his lip. “Archers, to your places. Vara...” He looked over at her and she nodded, a little uncertainly. “You'll do fine.”

  Her expression turned severe. “I am not worried about my part in this endeavor. I am concerned about you, cannon fodder.” She sniffed and turned away, leaving him with the same half-smile.

  He turned back to Alaric, who stood at his side. “We'll be ready in a moment.” Drawing his sword, he took a moment to look at the Ghost's weapon, not for the first time. A long, heavy sword, it had runes inscribed along the blade and a detailed pattern carved into the hilt. The pommel was a skull, with black onyx inlaid into the eyes. “I never have asked you about your sword – it's very impressive.”

  The paladin hefted his blade and flipped it, pommel first, to Cyrus. “It is called Aterum. Would you like to try it?”

  Cy took the sword by the hilt and swung it in front of him. The blade was perfectly balanced and felt light in his hands. “It's mystical, isn't it?”

  “Quite.” The Ghost took the blade back and held it at his side. “Your archers are in place, I believe.”

  “Vara will be ready in a moment.” Cyrus turned to the army. “Once we get inside, I'll need rangers to scout down the tunnels ahead of us.”

  “I volunteer,” Aisling said, stepping forward.

  “You're not with the archers?” Cyrus asked her.

  She gave him a wide grin. “Couldn't find my bow and arrows. Care to search me for them?”

  He looked down at her with a weathered look of resignation. “If you can disappear as well as your bow, you can be our first scout.”

  Her eyes lit up. “I accept. And not only can I disappear, I can make other things disappear if you like.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I sense a veiled reference. Still not learned our lesson yet?”

  She covered her mouth, hiding the wide smile beneath. “I'm a slow learner. I'll stop now. Thank you for entrusting this duty to me.” She seemed to hover for a moment, vibrating with excitement, then she surged forward and kissed him on the cheek, so soft he scarcely felt her touch. He could not ignore her warm breath on his neck as she passed him, though.

  The flare of a fire spell lit at the base of the gates of the goblin keep. “That's the signal,” Cyrus said. “They're in position.” He waved his hand at the archers on the far rim of the crater, and saw an acknowledgment from Martaina as a volley of arrows filled the skies above the crater.

  Shouts came from the keep as the gate began to close. “All right, we charge,” Cyrus called out. “Be loud; move around a lot; do everything you can to get them to watch us.” He thrust his short sword into the air. Bellowing a warcry, he jumped over the lip of the crater and began to half-run, half-slide down the sloped wall.

  As he descended, in all the shouts before and behind him, he could have sworn he heard another, familiar voice once more in the clamor of the charge.

  Avenge me.

  He pushed it out of his mind as he reached the bottom of the crater. The portcullis was down, its latticework design dark against the fading strips of light disappearing as the gates behind it were shut. He smiled as he looked to the tops of the walls and saw goblins peering down through the gaps in the parapet.

  Cy began to stride across the ground toward them. The army behind him slowed to match his pace, although some were still descending the slope. Arrows fell upon the keep in waves, keeping the goblins under cover.

  “Hail, goblin folk,” Cyrus called out. “We are willing to accept your surrender. None of you need die.” There was no response but for a peal of laughter from behind a parapet. He sighed. “I'm going to need our battering ram up here.”

  “We don't have a battering ram,” Erith snapped from behind him. “So what do you plan to do now, genius?” She looked up as something brushed past her. “Oh.”

  Fortin walked to the front of the army as the Sanctuary combatants made way for him. Cyrus smiled at the rock giant. “Would you prefer to open the gates or open the walls?”

  “I think the walls would surprise them more,” the giant said in a quiet timbre. “They are short, somewhat like gnomes; may I eat my kills?”

  Cyrus's eyes widened at the suggestion. “I... uh...” He looked to Alaric, who nodded. “I guess so.”

  “Excellent.” The rock giant interlaced his fingers, stretching his knuckles. His arms dropped back to his sides and for a moment Fortin looked completely at peace. Then a bellow filled the air that was louder than any war horn but just as resonant, and the rock giant was in motion, a blur streaking across the ground, aimed at the tower nearest the gate.

  Cries of alarm filled the air on the walls, and the sounds of battle echoed from inside. All this noise was drowned out by the impact of a rock giant hitting a stone wall, a blasting noise as horrendous as any explosion and the sound of stone buckling and breaking. Cy looked away, covering his eyes as a shower of pieces no larger than slivers fell around them. When he looked back up, there was a hole in the wall of the keep tower roughly the size of a rock giant, and the stones above it began to crumble and fall.

  Cyrus could hear fire and lightning being cast about inside the walls, and the screams of the goblins increased in intensity and pitch.

  “Oh my,” Alaric said. “It sounds as though we are winning.”

  Another explosion of stone marked the exit of Fortin very near to his entry point, and the tower next to the keep's gate collapsed as though it were made of flimsy wood. The rock giant charged back to Cyrus, stopping short of the warrior, resting his hands on his knees as though he were out of breath. “They tried to retreat, of course, but the ice princess and her force have them cut off. The inner gate is sealed and its defenders are dead at the hands of her fighters. There will be no warning to the goblin city that we are coming.”

  “Good,” Cyrus reassured him with a smile. “You mind opening that keep-gate for the rest of us now?”

  “Certainly,” Fortin said and turned, charging this time at the portcullis.

  “I'll give two to one odds that says he bounces off,” Andren said from behind Cyrus. “That's got to be worked dwarven steel.”

  “You think they brought dwarves down here to craft it?” J'anda replied. “I'll take your odds.”

  “I'll bet that it is dwarven steel, and I'll bet that he breaks it down,” Cyrus added.

  Before Andren could reply, the rock giant hit the portcullis. Dwarven steel or not, it broke free with the force of his impact and ripped into the gate behind it. Fortin's momentum carried him sailing through the keep's gate, ripping it off its hinges, and the
rock giant landed in a lump just inside the gates.

  A cracking noise filled the air. Pieces of heavy stone began to rain down as the wall above the gate began to collapse from the damage Fortin had done to the arch when he broke the portcullis. It fell with the sound of a rain of multi-ton stone blocks. When it finished, there was a pile of rock ten feet high where an open gate had stood moments earlier.

  “Sorry,” came a rumbling voice from behind the wreckage. “I'll make another door.”

  Goblin screams came from above on the wall as a section of the keep burst open near the top of the parapets. Fortin had climbed the wall and was demolishing it piece by piece to clear a path. Stone blocks the size of Cyrus flew into the crater a few at a time as the rock giant broke the wall down. It took five minutes, by which time the goblin voices had faded and Cyrus saw Vara look down on them from the top of the keep, Niamh and Curatio at her side.

  “It would appear you are unable to carry out your part of the plan, which was the simplest. I fear for our efforts from here on,” she needled at him, smiling down.

  “What?” he called back to her.

  “You were supposed to walk through the gate and meet us once our work of securing the inside gate was done. Even this modest task appears to be too much for you.” Her words were teasing rather than vicious, and her mood was light.

  “You want to try climbing over the wreckage here?” he asked.

  “I do not. That's why I consented to lead the task force inside. I had a suspicion Fortin might not make your entry the cleanest.”

  “Oh yes,” Fortin replied, clearing the last stones out of the wall, making a perfect V-shaped hole in the keep, wide enough for even him to walk through. “Blame the rock giant for shoddy goblin construction. I can't help it if this place is as delicate as... a lilac,” he finished with gleeful laugh.

  Vara cut short any reply she might have made, disappearing out of sight behind the wall. Cyrus rallied the army and they moved through the opening into the yard of the keep and found the gates to the mountain already opened. Vara stood at the door with her arms crossed, tapping her foot. As he approached, she extended her arms toward the open gates. “After you,” she said with a bow.