The great muscles in her legs jumped like a prize stallion when she sprang forward to lead the attack, and her contingent bore down upon their enemy with the inexorable force of a landslide. Battle oaths and ferocious screams echoed from every Asgardian mouth and adrenalin sang through Reya’s flesh when she saw the Line of Baldur match her rush with pumping legs. Wind whipped past her face and fuelled the pounding of her heart that called her forth into combat, a song of battle high within her soul that was sung from her comrades’ war cries. Wings of proud duty at her feet increased her pace and even as the wall of interminable demonic numbers sought to barge into their line like flaming canon fire, Reya sprinted onward, plunging fearlessly into the clash of flesh and metal.
Without the need for an outward command, the Line of Baldur split from their comrades and even as her great axe collided with the onrush of enemies with a spurting of blood and bone, Reya saw Tellan sprint onward in the slipstream of deadly arrows. He cut down the enemies that rushed to fill the gap Reya’s enormous axe had created, and the sabre wielding man who had stood on her other side with such calm grace vaulted to Tellan’s side. When he swooped into the field of clustered demons with the ferocity of an eagle on the hunt, a circle of gore was felled like an autumn harvest and Tellan surged to join the flashing twin sabres with his own sword. The two leapt and spun together with barely any room to spare, so tightly were the enemy packed, but scores of demons fell from the fury of Asgardian steel and retribution. When Reya powered aggressively forward into the swallowing circle where the enemy were at their thickest, her great axe destroyed through demonic flesh with the power of thunder and with it came the lightning whip of arrows from behind.
Reya watched from outside herself as the Line of Baldur worked together with a unified harmony that could only have been forged through years of familiarity, so deadly a dance did they weave. The tremendous great axe forced the greater numbers back with its incredible strength and with every sinuous rotation and strike, came another well–placed sword thrust or cut from bastard sword or sabre. Any enemy that they missed was claimed by fierce arrows of devastating speed, tearing the air as they thundered home into heads, necks and torsos like serpent’s fangs. Within their intricate sphere of death, the Line of Baldur cut their enemy down with unstoppable force and blood stained the ground like the rising of the tide, a testament of their warrior prowess. Reya stood within the centre of the circle and as she swung her great axe with a bellow of raw defiance, claiming more heads of the demons who unwisely chose her might as their target, Baldur’s name was called with a shout of warning.
She glanced upwards through blood and sweat and followed the arc of the fired arrow that screamed toward the large winged demon that lumbered through the ranks of the enemy with the fire of the Abyss in its eyes. A stream of demonic commands issued from the fiend’s gruesome maw and great claws were brought up in a feral claim at Reya and her team with a promise of death. With only a moment to hiss a curse at the arrival of such a powerful opponent, Reya spun and all but lay her great axe flat on the ground, her hands still gripped upon the haft. As soon as she saw a foot placed confidently between her hands, Reya heaved the great axe upward with all of her might and she watched with an internal gasp of incredulity when the figure was launched impossibly skywards. The Line of Baldur turned towards the new enemy with snarls of defiance and as they adjusted their stances in preparation for the beast’s juggernaut rush, they began their sprint together. Bastard sword, sabres and great axe were raised in roaring answer of the fiend’s challenge with the might of Asgard and from above, destructive arrows of piercing death screeched down from the heavens in a storm; their wielder already streaking towards the demonic foe like an avenging Valkyrie.
When Reya woke from her dream, her eyes lifted slowly and sluggishly and she felt a hollow sensation within her stomach that spoke of something absent, a feeling she couldn’t quite identify. She sat up in the bed and looked down at herself: her legs were entirely tangled within the sheets and her skin was slick with sweat, just the same as every other time she had dreamed her nightmares. She sank back down with a sigh and lay there in silence for some time, staring at the ceiling as she blinked uneasily.
She knew now without it having to be explained that within her dreams, she somehow relived incredible, impossible battles from her father’s past, within his own body, with his own hands…and her Uncle Tellan had been by her side. She had witnessed the astonishing revelations of how they had fought hordes of demons from every level of the Abyss, together magnificent in golden armour that had shone like the dawn of the sun within the darkness of night. These nightmares were visions from her father’s eyes, the weapon that she wielded was his and the war she fought was from his memory. But as inexplicable as such an occurrence was, she felt no fear; yes, that’s what the hollow feeling was…she wasn’t afraid this time.
It was an instinctual knowledge she held within her that lent her a tenuous strength, but she was still shaken at the sight of so much violence and the soldier’s pride she felt from her father left her uneasy. Reya had never been accustomed to violence of any kind, but the boiling heat of adrenalin and strength she felt within her dreams left her bolstered, and she wasn’t entirely sure if it was a sensation she could welcome.
When the sweat upon her head began to chill her, Reya swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat there hunched for a moment as she gradually gathered her composure. Her legs trembled terribly as though she had walked for a day and in spite of her lengthy slumber through the night, she still felt a dragging exhaustion. Once you get up, you’ll be fine. She resolved with a sharp intake of breath as she boosted from the bed, stumbling momentarily before she reached for her clothes.
There was a tentative knock on the door then and as Reya hauled her dress tightly around her chest with a squeak, she quavered through a suddenly dry throat, “Y–yes?”
“Good morning, miss!” The voice of Vella floated through the door and Reya sagged in relief that it wasn’t Jenko himself with the threat of throwing her out, “There’s a jug and bowl out here for you when you’re ready.”
“Thank you!” Reya called to the footsteps that had already begun their retreat down the hall and she held her dress tightly against her body as she tiptoed towards the door.
She bit her lip tentatively when she cracked the door open just a peek, in case anyone was around that could have seen her in her state of undress. Satisfied that nobody was around, Reya allowed her dress to drop and she snatched the jug and bowl as quickly as she could. She washed and changed with a smile on her face, happily grateful for the little gift Vella had granted her without realising, for the chilled sweat upon her skin had been cloying and left her uncomfortable. She pushed her hands through her hair in an attempt to make herself a little more presentable and by the time she left the room, her dream had floated away from her mind.
Reya poked her head around the barroom door timidly in case that unsavoury man Saros was there again, but when she couldn’t see him or his ragged cronies, she sighed gratefully and tiptoed inside. Vella was already at the bar swiping a rag across its scarred top and when Reya slipped into the stool in front of her, Vella glanced up briefly.
“Oh, there you are!” She cried happily and winked fondly at her. She then held up a finger and said, “Wait just a second, love.”
Reya did exactly as she was asked and played with her fingers nervously as she cast her wide eyes around the room, a little unnerved by the knowledge that she was the only one there. The Fighting Angel was actually a very welcoming inn, she realised, when it wasn’t filled with drunken men and loud noise: the fireplace was grander than one would have expected and the furniture was of good quality, if well–worn and patched in places. The floor gleamed with a polish that smelled pleasantly of heady oil and wax, and rich paintings depicting great battles and impressive hunts adorned the walls, alongside decorative weapons and antlers. Her eyes played across the rather large landscape paint
ing beside the fireplace that showed an incredible scene with thunderous skies and tumbling clouds, captivated by the raw depth that exuded from every brushstroke. She realised that there were two major clusters of people on either side of the scene, rushing together as though eager to meet through the shafts of light that speared gloriously from the tumultuous grey clouds. A subdued jolt thrummed through her heart when she realised that some of the men wore armour of the most splendid gold and as she slid off her seat for a closer look, she squinted her eyes in curiosity.
“Got a little breakfast for you, sweetheart.” Vella called as she made her way back through from the kitchen and Reya’s inspection of the painting became entirely forgotten, for her mouth salivated at the sight of the tray the barmaid carried with a happy grin.
Vella placed the tray down with a kind hand upon the girl’s shoulder and chuckled softly as Reya stared numbly at the food before her with shocked eyes.
“But…but I can’t pay, remember?” She stammered self–consciously, frightened that Jenko would come by at any time and catch her abusing his hospitality.
Vella snorted, “If the boss thinks I’m taking a horse as payment for one measly night, then he’s got another think coming.”
Reya blinked at the confidence within Vella’s voice and mumbled, “Won’t you get into trouble?”
Vella grinned slyly and replied, “I can handle Jenko. He’s not as tough as he thinks.”
Reya breathed an uneasy laugh at the barmaid’s easy reassurance and glanced back down at her plate when her stomach tugged hungrily at her attention. The plate was a tempting sight indeed: full of eggs, a little bread and cold meat, it was a definite reminder that she hadn’t eaten since yesterday’s breakfast. She flashed her eyes up at Vella with a smile of gratitude then and when she promptly began devouring the offering with both hands, Vella patted her back and walked behind the bar. Reya glanced up at the sound of scraping wood and at the delicious sight of a mug full of freshly poured milk, she moaned her thanks through a mouthful of food.
“Hungry, eh?” Vella asked her with a little laugh as Reya swept the mug up eagerly for a thirsty gulp.
Reya swallowed her over–full mouth hastily and her eyes were wide and embarrassed when she registered how badly she had abandoned her manners in the face of such wonderful generosity. But Vella simply smiled happily and swept her hand in a kind gesture for Reya to continue and when she had finished the entire plate, Reya sat back upon her seat with a happy smile, sighing in contentment.
“Thank you.” She finally managed to say, slightly shamed that she hadn’t said so before now.
But Vella was far from offended and said with a fond crinkling of her eyes, “You’re welcome, pet. I remember what it’s like being on your own.”
Reya’s eyes fluttered sadly as she dropped her gaze and Vella realised that the young girl’s plight was far more serious than being a simple runaway.
“So…” She began tentatively, for instinct told her that whatever it was that had sent the girl on her path was still fresh and she should tread carefully, “What’s your name?”
Reya’s eyes fluttered slightly, “Reya.” She answered almost apologetically.
“That’s a pretty name.”
“I guess…”
Vella’s eyes took in Reya’s demeanour carefully, saddened at how defeated the young girl sounded. “What are your plans now?” She asked gently.
Reya shook her head and her lips were a tight line that gave no indication of her thoughts. It was some time until she finally replied and even then her voice was so quiet that Vella had to lean close to hear her plaintive whisper, “I don’t think he will help me.”
“Who?” Vella asked with mild bemusement.
Reya’s honey curls bobbed as she shook her head once more and Vella realised finally with a tug of her heart that the firmness within the girl’s lips was her attempt at keeping the tears from spilling out. Vella asked gently, “You mean Jenko?”
Reya simply nodded in silent response and her shoulders shuddered as she fought the sob that built with such overpowering momentum in her chest. Vella sketched her eyes along Reya’s little form again with heart–felt empathy; so small and fragile the young girl seemed that she felt a strong compulsion to gather her into her arms.
“What do you need?” She asked firmly, for she couldn’t deny how powerfully her maternal instinct resounded within her at Reya’s defeated voice.
“I–I don’t know.” Reya replied helplessly and she stared impotently at her hands as she laced her fingers together, “I was just…told to find him. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
Vella stared at the girl in silence, entirely helpless as to what she should do to help her; she wanted to take care of the girl, naturally, but she also knew that it would be folly for her to push her luck with Jenko. As much as they had a firm friendship she knew that he was an uncompromising man, and it would more than likely cost her her job if she badgered him too much.
It was at that moment that Jenko sauntered down the stairs with an easy smile on his face and a brown waistcoat so grand in its brocade, that the richest of merchants would have gladly bankrupted themselves to persuade him to part with it. Vella grinned fondly at him as he adjusted his cinched cuffs; for all that the man was a complete peacock and unapologetic arsehole, Vella couldn’t help but enjoy his company. There were times when his cutting humour came a little too close to the bone, but all in all, she considered that there were worse people to work for in this world.
“‘Morning, boss!” She called to him cheerfully and in response he hailed her with a casual salute.
“We’re closing for the day, Vella. Got some business to attend to.” Jenko announced. Reya couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t even glance her way and she whipped around in her seat, staring at the bar top with intense silence.
“Closing?” Vella shot back incredulously within the sudden death of her good mood. Her gaze urgently flickered between Reya and Jenko before she hissed insistently, “The day has just started!”
“Yes, I was aware of that when I woke up.” Jenko responded candidly as he made his way towards the kitchen, his stride uninterrupted, “So be a dear and collect all payments from the lodgers before you send them on their way.”
Reya shifted awkwardly in her seat, unsure of whether or not she should just leave. But her Uncle Tellan had told her to come here and after everything that had happened…Reya hoped with a thrill in her heart that Jenko had perhaps taken her plight into consideration after all and had decided to help her.
Vella sputtered helplessly at Jenko as he made for the kitchen without a second glance at her and as she scampered behind him, she called brusquely, “Here, you’ll bloody well be paying me for this day’s work!”
“How low an opinion you have of me, Vella. I’m quite hurt.” He said with a wry smile. He then stopped and dipped into his waistcoat pocket, producing a folded piece of paper that he held up between two fingers, “Not only shall you be paid, but I have an exciting mercantile venture lined up for you. These are your instructions.”
“Uh huh.” Vella muttered dubiously as she snatched at the paper and unfolded it. Her eyes scoured across the writings there as she added, “And where shall I be going?”
“Dahlia.”
Vella’s eyes suddenly flared open in outraged disbelief. “Dahlia?!” She protested loudly, “That’s at least a month away!”
Jenko’s face fell into a pantomimed expression of shock. “Is it really?” He asked mockingly before his lips split into a wide grin of mirthful unconcern, “Oh, well in that case you’d better get cracking, eh?”
Vella stared at him in disbelief, a part of her hoping that he was pulling her leg in the way that he sometimes did. But as her mouth worked in protest and his mocking smile remained, she realised that he really did intend for her to go. “It’s hardly picking up a loaf at the market, Jenko!” She blurted hotly, “How am I supposed to even get there?”
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“The cart’s outside and already stocked. Honestly, Vella, would you like me to tie your boots for you as well?” He retorted smoothly.
“Tie my–” Vella started until she snapped angrily, “Bastard! Well I’m hardly going to do this out of the goodness of my own heart, so give me my payment now!”
Jenko chuckled as he fished in his pocket once more for a coin purse. “I had no idea you were so mercenary, Vella.” He joked when he placed the purse into her waiting hand.
Vella hefted the purse with a scowl and as she pocketed it grudgingly, she shook her head in angry disbelief against Jenko’s final nod of satisfaction.
“Alright then, toss the punters and head off.” Jenko ordered as he stalked into the kitchen, “Those wares aren’t likely to get to Dahlia by themselves.”
Vella followed angrily and even through the slammed shut kitchen door, Reya heard her snap in irritation, “Aye, sure. I’ll just stick a broom up my arse and sweep the floor as I go, shall I?”
The Fallen Page 9
