The Shadow Of Fallen Gods

by V. R. Cardoso

  “Wake up!” the spy said. She went to the fireplace, picked up a candle from the mantelpiece and used what few flames still burned to light it up.

  “What’s wrong?” Cassia asked as the candle’s orange glow revealed the spy’s features. Her brows were pulled into a deep frown above her blue eyes.

  “I can’t find them.”

  “Who?”

  “The other guests,” Venia snapped, pacing from one side of the room to the other. “I’ve searched every room in this place. I’ve even checked the attic. There’s no one else here besides us.”

  “What?” Cassia asked, more to give her mind time to shove off sleep. “Why would the innkeeper lie about that?”

  “She wouldn’t. She didn’t. Someone was in one of the rooms on the second floor. I found clothes and two travel bags. Just no people.”

  Cassia thought about it for a moment. “Maybe they just… went for a walk?”

  Venia stopped her pacing and gave Cassia a flat stare. “In the middle of a blizzard?”

  “Right…” Shoving her covers away, the empress stepped out of bed. “We need to tell Darian.”

  “What for?”

  “What do you mean, what for?” Cassia was already halfway to the door. “He’s in charge of our security. He has to be informed about this sort of thing.”

  “I thought I was in charge of our security,” Venia mumbled, but went after the empress anyway.

  Downstairs, the legionary maniple had taken over the whole tavern. The soldiers carpeted the floor, sleeping under their blue capes, their packs serving as pillows. Darian sat at one of the long tables near the fireplace, nursing a mug of something. His second in command, a sergeant named Clareana, sat next to him, head over her arms on the table top, snoring lightly. Darian was the only one still awake, and he raised his mug at Cassia and Venia.

  As if trying to avoid puddles in a muddy street, Cassia skipped over the sleeping legionaries and sat across from Darian, Venia right behind her.

  “Can’t sleep?” the captain asked.

  “Something’s not right,” Cassia replied.

  “I know,” Darian said. “Starting with this beer.” He tipped the wooden mug his way, grimacing down at its contents.

  “No, not that, you oaf,” Venia said, leaning in closer over the table. “There were supposed to be other guests besides us. The old woman said so.”

  “And?”

  “And they’re nowhere to be found! I’ve searched the whole inn. Every single room is empty.”

  “Okay… that does sound strange.” Darian shrugged. “But I’m sure there’s an explanation. Why don’t you ask the innkeepers?”

  “Alright,” Venia agreed. “Where are they?”

  The captain took a sip of his beer. “I don’t know. Somewhere upstairs.”

  “Upstairs?” Venia asked. “I thought they were down here.”

  “Not down here, no. I’ve been pouring myself this horrible beer for over an hour.”

  The spy jumped to her feet. “Fire take us all!”

  “What is it?” Cassia asked, confused.

  “I’ve searched every room in this place,” Venia insisted. “Every. Single. One. There’s nobody upstairs. Nobody.”

  “Well, they’re certainly not down here…” Darian said, then froze, realization dawning on him. “Goddess spit on my ancestors!” He grabbed the sergeant sleeping next to him by the shoulders and shook her violently. “Wake up!”

  The woman sprang to attention with a sleep-slurred shout. “YESSIR!”

  “Rouse the maniple,” Darian commanded.

  “There’s only one place I haven’t checked yet,” Venia said, drawing a dagger and walking towards the counter.

  Darian walked after her, drawing his sword. Seeing both her captain and the spy suddenly ready for a fight, Sergeant Clareana seemed to finally wake completely. “What’s happening?”

  “I said rouse the maniple!” Darian barked.

  The empress followed Venia and Darian, who signaled her to stand back, a suggestion Cassia ignored entirely. Slowly, carefully, Venia stepped around the counter and towards an archway leading to the kitchen.

  A large pot boiled softly on a hook above a hearth, the savory smell of onions emanating from it. Dirty cups and dishes were piled on a wooden counter beside a basin in one corner, while clean ones lined the shelves covering one of the kitchen’s walls. A single door led out of the space, and Venia approached it as if afraid something would jump out and strike her. She wrapped her hand around the door knob and placed her dagger at the ready. Then, with a jolt, she pulled the door open, ready to stab anyone on the other side.

  Cassia gasped, covering her mouth.

  “Oh no…” Darian mumbled.

  Venia straightened but said nothing.

  The door opened into a pantry, and inside, on the floor, were two dead bodies. A man and a woman lay heaped over each other, dried blood staining their clothes, certainly not the two supposed innkeepers who had welcomed them several hours ago. They were both very old, at least seventy each, light blue eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, their mouths open in a last gasp, as if still not believing what had happened to them.

  “This isn’t good,” Darian muttered.

  “Yeah, no crap!” Venia snapped. She turned on her heels and strode back to the tavern.

  “What is happening?” Cassia asked. “What do we do?”

  Darian sighed. “We get ready for an attack.”

  “Wha… why?” Cassia asked, her eyes fixed on the dead couple on the floor. But she already knew the answer to that.

  “Because this is a honeytrap,” Venia replied. “And we fell right into it.”

  * * *

  A howl echoed outside.

  “We’re surrounded,” Clareana said matter-of-factly, peeking through a slit in the window shutters. It took surprisingly little time to get all the legionaries up and ready to fight, probably because they all slept in their combat gear.

  “What do we do?” Cassia asked.

  “We make a run for it,” Venia said. “A group of Darian’s legionaries can create a distraction while we extract you through a different direction.”

  “They’re the empress’ legionaries,” Darian corrected. “And that’s a horrible idea.” He turned to Cassia. “Majesty, we should make a stand. This is a good tactical position. We’ll surely be outnumbered. Outside, they can take advantage of that, but not in here. This is a stone building, so they can’t smoke us out. The doors and windows will funnel them, making it easier for us to pick them off one by one.”

  “They attracted us here for a reason,” Venia argued. “We’re exactly where they want us to be. If we stay, we’re done.”

  Darian shook his head. “Majesty, with respect, this is a military matter. You should trust my expertise on this.”

  Cassia crossed her arms, hesitating, and looked at Venia, expecting a counter-argument. The spy simply gave her a flat stare that said, Don’t be stupid.

  “We have the superior soldiers,” Darian insisted. “Legionaries are the best trained, best equipped shock troops in all of Arkhemia. Let us do our job, your Majesty.”

  With a glance around the room, Cassia studied the maniple. All the legionaries stood at attention, hands resting on top of the oblong shields in front of them. “I don’t like being cornered,” she said, “but I don’t think we have a choice right now. Prepare for an attack.”

  Darian nodded and strode away, barking orders.

  “You place too much trust in your toy soldiers,” Venia said in a low voice.

  “Your own plan required my toy soldiers,” Cassia retorted. “Involved sacrificing a bunch of them, if I understood you correctly.”

  Venia stood in silence, dark gaze fixed on one of the windows. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

  Another howl cut through the air, this time closer.

  “I got movement,” Clareana said.

  Darian marched to her and looked outside. “Paladins�
��” the captain spat, as if the word tasted sour. He turned back to his soldiers. “Empress’s own, get ready!”

  As one, the legionaries lifted their shields, slid them onto their left arms, then formed a line three-men deep, curving to face every entry point into the inn. Darian and his sergeant left the window and pierced the legionary line, the soldiers shifting to create a corridor, then quickly slotting back into position in a well-rehearsed maneuver. Cassia had seen less coordinated dance companies performing at the Citadel Amphitheater.

  “Don’t worry, your Majesty,” Darian said as he stepped next to Cassia and strapped on his helmet. “This is what we do. Those idiots out there have no idea what they’ve gotten themselves into.”

  Cassia nodded, trying to look much calmer than she felt. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Venia shift her weight nervously. She could tell the spy did not believe a word Darian had said but was happy enough that she kept her feelings to herself.

  How was this possible? How had they found her so deep in the middle of nowhere?

  Is there no limit to your reach, Tarsus? the empress wondered.

  “Attention!” a voice shouted from outside. “Attention all within the inn! We know you are harboring the empress!”

  Cassia and Venia exchanged a glance.

  “I am Commander Gregorian of the third Paladin Cadre of Fausta,” the voice continued. “You are in violation of Imperial law. You are surrounded and heavily outnumbered. There is no escape. Surrender Cassia Elara, and your transgression will be forgiven. You will be honorably discharged from the Legion, and nothing will be added to your criminal record. If you refuse to hand us the fugitive, we will be forced to storm this building, and all those who survive the assault will be hung by the neck until dead for treason. You have until my count of ten to comply.”

  “Spoken like a true Paladin,” Darian said, his voice carrying over the whole of the room. “But there are no Paladins in here. Only Legionaries. And we don’t know the meaning of surrender.”

  The maniple slammed their right feet so hard the floor shook.

  “Empress’ own!” Clareana called. “Shield wall!”

  The blades of a hundred Legionaries sang as they left their scabbards, the same number of shields clattering as they interlocked with each other.

  “Very well,” they heard the voice from outside say. “Have it your way.”

  A tense moment of silence went by, only the sound of the fireplace still crackling away in the corner interrupting it.

  There was a massive bang on the front door, dust flying off its hinges.

  “Battering ram!” Darian announced. “Get ready!”

  Another bang. This time, cracks appeared on the wooden boards of the door.

  “Give me a sword,” Cassia told Darian. “Or a knife. Something.”

  The captain was taken aback. “Majesty… it won’t come to that.”

  “Here.” Venia handed the empress a small dagger, then looked at Darian. “Better safe than sorry.”

  Darian nodded hesitantly.

  The door exploded, splinters showering the legionaries closest to it, and a torrent of paladins flooded through. The awaiting line of legionaries answered with steel, their swords thrusting forward. Four paladins fell instantly. Two windows burst inward next, one on each side of the door, and more paladins jumped through, attacking other sections of the shield wall.

  With their short spears and round shields, the paladins fought bravely, charging wildly, screaming like mad men. The legionaries, on the other hand, fought with the precision of a well-engineered machine, barely making a sound. Their wide, oblong shields covered most of their bodies, leaving only their heads and feet exposed, but even when an enemy spear found an opening, it was either met with a parry from an adjacent legionary or the thick plate of their armor. The paladins, however, did not display a similar cohesion, and their casualties quickly mounted.

  The metallic scent of blood filled Cassia’s nostrils, and she felt her stomach turn. At least her maniple was managing to remain mostly unscathed. There were a couple wounded, but they were quickly dragged to the rear and replaced by a comrade from the second row.

  “What’s that?” Venia asked.

  Cassia had no idea what her friend was talking about. “What’s what?”

  The spy turned and looked up the staircase behind her. “Upstairs!”

  Cassia followed Venia’s gaze and her eyes widened, not for what she saw, but for what she heard. From somewhere up above echoed the pounding of feet.

  “They’re on the upper floors,” Venia said. “Darian? Darian!”

  The captain was busy commanding a section of the legionary line, but the sound of his name made him turn. “Huh?”

  “They’re climbing the building and getting in through the first floor,” Venia told him.

  It took Darian a moment to register what the spy was saying. He looked up, as if he could see through the ceiling. Just as he did, a war cry sounded from above, followed by a dozen feet thundering down the stairs.

  “Third squad, to me!” Darian roared, rushing to the new front. His small detachment plugged the breach just in time, blocking the base of the staircase just as Venia pulled Cassia away.

  The staircase was only wide enough for two men abreast, and it quickly became clogged with paladins. This time, however, they had the advantage. The stairs gave the paladins the higher ground, and it didn’t take long before one of their spears pierced the shoulder plate joint of a legionary. The man staggered back, and, for a moment, Cassia was sure the paladins would break through his position. Somehow, he managed to stand firm, pushing back with his shield until the legionary behind him took his place.

  Helping his wounded soldier away from the fight, Darian sent Venia a wild look. “Quick, get to the kitchen. We can’t hold these stairs for long.”

  “I thought you said this was a good tactical position!” Venia retorted, fuming.

  “Just do it!” Darian snapped.

  “Venia, let’s go,” Cassia said, a hand on her harm.

  Grudgingly, the spy acquiesced, leaving Darian to scan the battle around him. The paladins now had a firm foothold within the tavern, and while his soldiers were holding the mounting pressure well, soon exhaustion would start to set in.

  “Sergeant, prepare to pull back,” Darian commanded. “We’ll protect the access to the kitchen. The empress will be safe inside.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  The order was quickly passed down the legionary line and, as always, the maniple executed the maneuver with remarkable efficiency. One step at a time, they retreated, reducing their perimeter to a smaller and smaller section of the tavern without ever breaking the cohesion of their shield wall. All the while, the paladins pressed their attack, growing waves crashing uselessly against receding cliffs.

  Cassia skirted the tavern counter and strode into the kitchen, Venia close behind. The door to the pantry where the two true innkeeper’s bodies laid remained ajar and the empress closed it, not wishing to look at the macabre display.

  “I told you we should’ve made a run for it,” Venia hissed, pacing like a caged animal. “Now we truly are trapped. In a goddess damned kitchen!”

  Cassia gave her a thoughtful look. “I’m not exactly an expert on the subject, but don’t these places usually have rear entrances for the staff?”

  Venia halted. “Yes…”

  Cassia turned around and looked through the archway leading back to the tavern. Her maniple was now formed in a semi-circle around the bar top. She saw one of them struck in the neck by the tip of a spear. The man dropped his sword and grabbed his throat before collapsing. A moment later, his corpse was dragged to the rear of the formation by his comrades.

  “But if there was one, we’d be finished by now,” Venia added.

  “What if there’s an entrance neither us nor they know about?” Cassia theorized.

  “Then we’d have an escape route.”

  Cassia reopened the door
to the pantry and stepped inside, trying to ignore the corpses’ stench. She looked around. There was no lamp or torch inside, but enough light from the kitchen bled in to reveal a series of dusty shelves packed with everything from sacks of beans to pots of honey. There were, however, no doors in sight.

  “Beneath you,” Venia said.

  “What?”

  “Step back.” Venia pushed the empress out of the way and knelt. She dusted her hand over the floor, revealing a line separating the floorboards. “A trapdoor.”

  “To a basement?” Cassia asked.

  “Or an exit tunnel. Help me.” The spy rose and picked up the legs of the dead woman.

  Grimacing, the empress grabbed the corpse’s arms, and together they rolled her on top of her husband.

  There really was a trapdoor there, and Venia grabbed its iron ring handle to pull it open. “I’ll check it out,” she said. “Stay here.”

  “No. I’m going with you.”

  “I’m a spy, not a bodyguard. Let me do my job.”

  Cassia brandished the dagger Venia had handed to her earlier. “I can take care of myself.”

  “Oh, really?” The spy slapped Cassia’s wrist and the dagger went flying out of the pantry and into the kitchen, landing with a clatter. “Stay. Here.”

  Venia disappeared into the trapdoor, leaving Cassia to curse under her breath. She walked to the fallen knife and picked it up, then looked through the archway to the tavern, where the battle still raged. Despite heavy casualties, the paladins kept up their unrelenting assault. Maybe the fact that the legionaries had started giving ground was spurring them forward, but their advance seemed to have halted now that the maniple was holding beyond the tavern counter.

  The sharp blare of a whistle blew from somewhere outside, and for the first time since they had broken through, the paladins stopped their attack.

  “Halt!” a paladin sergeant commanded. “Disengage!”

  The raging clashes of blades and shields died off, and the paladin line retreated slowly, carefully.

  What’s happening? Cassia wondered. Is it over?