Soldiers of Ruin

by Stephen L. Nowland

Hamish tried to pull the axe from Sayana’s back, but she shrugged him off, and soon found Valennia standing by her side. Her imposing presence kept the increasingly unsettled dwarves at bay with a steely glare.

  “What’s he saying?” Pacian demanded with hands on the hilts of his daggers. Tosh listened for a few moments, and then barked a few orders to his nearest men.

  “He’s sayin’ that the axe being returned is a sign from Relnak,” he explained, invoking the name of the dwarven god of battle. Tosh’s eyes widened as he kept listening. He gave up all pretence of translating for Pacian and instead started to push his way through the crowd, bellowing orders at the top of his lungs.

  The scene was quickly turning into a riot as people crowded in closer, some of them cheering, some of them screaming angrily, throwing rocks and other things at the women, and Pacian couldn’t make any sense of it. Struggling to push his way through the throng, he saw Tosh organise his weary soldiers into a defensive ring.

  “This is gettin’ out o’ hand. We’re getting’ ye and the women to the inn where we can hold ‘em off!” Tosh bellowed over the noise of the thron. Pacian didn’t bother replying, and instead started to thread his way through the crowd as the ring of dwarven soldiers pushed their way through.

  Fortunately, the Rockslide Inn was close to the entrance of the city and after a few minutes of shoving through the crowd, Pacian and the dwarven soldiers managed to reach the staircase. After making sure the ladies were safe, Tosh issued orders to one of his corporals, who saluted and immediately disappeared into the crowd. The sergeant grabbed Pacian by his elbow and “escorted” him upstairs.

  The cacophony receded into the background as the familiar sights and smells of the Rockslide’s common room came into sight. Tosh closed the front door behind them and locked the door. The innkeeper came over to protest, but Tosh seemed to explain the situation well enough to gain his cooperation.

  “Are you okay?” Pacian asked Nellise, though all three women nodded in reply.

  “Sergeant, what just happened back there?” Nellise asked as Tosh finished securing the door and walked over to join them.

  “I’m sorry I waited so long to get ya safe,” he started by apologising. “Old Hamish is renowned fer stirring up trouble, but it wasn’t ‘til he called fer the overthrow o’ the king that I had the feeling he was goin’ a bit far this time.”

  “Wait, what?” Nellise asked, incredulous. “Start from the beginning.”

  “That was Hamish MacAliese, a distant cousin of the old king of Ferrumgaard,” Tosh explained. “The MacAliese’s are few in number these days, but they still reckon they’re the true leaders o’ the dwarves.”

  “Ah yes, Clavis MacAliese told us much concerning this matter, before his demise,” Nellise replied, drawing a raised eyebrow from the sergeant. Pacian decided not to mention that the remnants of the MacAliese clan were still living within the desolate halls of Ferrumgaard, and were also quite insane.

  “Clavis was the next in line fer the throne, if ya discount the fall o’ the old monarch,” Tosh said, “but if he’s dead, Hamish is the heir apparent. We haven’t seen Clavis around here in a while though, so I’m not sure how Hamish heard o’ his death.”

  “That’s my fault,” Pacian offered. “I told his daughter Sloane and I saw her talking to Hamish before we left. I guess he managed to put it all together from there.”

  “What does my axe have to do with this?” Sayana asked.

  “Hamish said it were a sign,” Tosh went on, sitting at a nearby table and gesturing for the others to do likewise. “King Sulinus ordered the attack on the dragon, and had to gain the support o’ some local lords and power players to make it happen. Now that it’s failed, he’s lookin’ weak on t’ throne, and with the reappearance of Thanesedge — yer axe — he’s convinced that now is the time fer a change of leadership.

  “A respectable portion o’ the population think the MacTavishes usurped the throne from the MacAlieses, too, which ain’t helping. I’ve sent one o’ me men to get the attention o’ the powers that be, but until that happens, yer stayin’ right here.”

  “If you fear the crowd, let me deal with them,” Valennia offered grimly. “I need a good battle to restore my honour after our last defeat.”

  “They’re just civilians, ma’am,” Tosh replied, narrowing his eyes at the towering akoran. “I can’t allow you to kill ‘em just fer having wrongful beliefs.”

  “Yet you allow them to push you around like this?”

  “Val, please,” Nellise softly begged, touching her on the arm. “You couldn’t even fight Pacian in your current state.”

  “Hey!” Pacian protested, but was ignored.

  “Very well,” Valennia relented, crestfallen once more after a brief return to form, “I will refrain from embarking on a bloody rampage.”

  “I’m very appreciative,” Tosh drawled. “Now, just sit back and relax until we hear back from the Crown.” Tosh sighed and rubbed his temples, and then he gave Sayana an appraising look.

  “Speak your mind,” she stated.

  “I was wondering if I might take a closer look at it,” the sergeant politely requested. “Just t’be sure, I mean.” The sorceress exchanged a long glance with the stout dwarf, then passed it to him. The magnificent weapon gleamed in the fading sunlight streaming in through the windows, with ornate fluting along its length and strange glyphs etched into the metal.

  “Yeah, that be the one,” Tosh muttered to himself with a wavering voice. He tested its balance, his eyes misting over with what Pacian assumed were tears of reverence. Finally, he handed it back over to Sayana, who carefully hung it over her back once more.

  “Should I just hand it over?” Sayana asked quietly. “I don’t want to cause a fuss, and Clavis was the one who retrieved it, after all. Perhaps he would have wanted it to go to his cousin?”

  “It’s bigger than that, now,” Tosh answered. “King Sulinus isn’t gonna stand fer someone else walkin’ around with Thanesedge and proclaiming himself the true king. This could lead to a clan war if we don’t tread carefully.”

  “Perhaps we should hand it over to King Sulinus then,” Nellise said. “He has been a staunch ally for Aielund since the lands of Stonegaard were given to your people, and if this would shore up his claim to the throne…”

  “Maybe, but we’ll let him decide,” Tosh replied.

  “I heard that Sulinus used to be a baker, is that true?” Pacian asked, genuinely interested, though not completely oblivious to the fact it was probably an insult.

  “Smart men don’t ask questions like that,” Tosh growled quietly. “I’m gonna go and make sure the stairs are secure. Why don’t you all have a meal and get some rest? I’ll let ya know when I’ve heard some news.” Without waiting for an answer, Tosh stood up and stalked over to the front door, while Nellise and Sayana threw accusing glares at Pacian.

  “That was a legitimate question,” he answered defensively. “If you want to head to your rooms, I’ll organise some food,” he continued awkwardly when no reply was forthcoming.

  A few minutes later, the four of them were enjoying a hot meal in the diplomatic suite. Valennia, propped up in a large chair near the fire, appeared to be sullen and withdrawn as she ate her meal without appetite. So, it was a surprise to all of them when she threw her bowl to the floor in a sudden fit of rage.

  “What’s the matter with you?” Nellise asked as she reluctantly dropped to her hands and knees to clean up the mess.

  “I hate feeling so… weak,” Valennia muttered, checking her bandages to make sure they were still in place.

  “You were almost killed by a dragon,” Nellise pointed out as she wiped the floor with a cloth. “She hit you so hard I thought you’d died instantly, so maybe you can give yourself a break and just relax for a few days?” Valennia appeared to consider this for a moment, but her impatient expression returned shortly afterward.

  “Heal me faster, that I might return to exact my revenge upon
the winged beast,” she grated with unusual intensity. “This time, I will not fail. This time—”

  “This time you’ll be killed for sure. What the hell is the matter with you?” Pacian snapped, unable to believe what he was hearing.

  “You wouldn’t understand,” she replied hotly.

  “Something has been bothering you since we left Fairloch,” Sayana remarked. “I’m not sure why you’re still with us, either. Your father is chieftain of the Akora once more, so why do you not return home?” Valennia seemed to think for a few moments before replying.

  “When we first met, I told you that I had been exiled by Erag the Usurper,” she began in sombre tones. “That was untrue. I was forced into exile by my own father for killing several men in the tribe. I did not hear of his fall from power until weeks after I left to seek my own fortune, yet I still swore to kill Erag and make my father chieftain once more.”

  “We took care of that for you,” Pacian told her. “Erag is dead, and so is his shaman. I forget his name… Tim? Claude? Something like that.”

  “Tald?” the akoran woman asked in mild disbelief. “It must have been a fierce battle.”

  “I’m trying to forget it, myself,” Nellise mumbled. “I will say, however, that many of the akoran men we fought were monsters, and I had no qualms about killing as many as we did.”

  “They slaughtered the captives, yes?” Valennia asked directly. “That is what you would not speak of earlier.” Nellise did not answer, and simply looked at the crackling fire before her.

  “I don’t think she wants to talk about it,” Pacian warned, keeping his anger in check.

  “When I was young,” the akoran warrior said, ignoring Pacian, “there was much infighting amongst my people. My tribe lost the fight, and the victorious warriors came to our homes intent on pillaging what they could. Many of our men were injured from the fighting, and even though they had surrendered, the leader of the victors, the one you knew as Erag, immediately ordered the killing of the injured. They took no prisoners, and anyone too wounded to walk was killed without mercy.

  Nellise was shocked to hear of this and Pacian went silent, feeling the blood boil in his veins.

  “I clutched onto my mother as we helplessly watched,” Valennia continued dispassionately. “Every moment is seared into my memory, as were the faces of those who did the killing. Erag may have been their leader, but his followers were chosen for their blood lust. In the middle of slaying the wounded, he said killing the weak would make us all stronger.”

  “I’m so sorry, I had no idea,” Nellise whispered, walking over to sit next to the tall woman who was, for the first time since Pacian had met her, acting like a real human being.

  “Spare me your sympathy, for I have no need of it,” Valennia grated. “I vowed revenge on those men, so I set about learning the fighting arts from whoever would teach me. Women are usually not taught how to fight, so many found this to be unusual. My determination won them over however, and so I practiced in secret whenever I was not going about my chores. My strength and skill grew each year, fuelled by the fire of vengeance in my belly.”

  “Last winter, I finally had the chance to test my mettle against a worthy foe — a white bear that had wandered into camp. Taking up my axe, I fought the great creature until I finally took its head. Though gravely wounded, I survived thanks to the ministrations of our local shaman and my own will to live.”

  “In the summer, I finally felt ready to fulfil my oath, and sought out the men who had slain my brothers and cousins. Two of them had died in battle since then, but the other three lived. I took the first one’s head before he knew what was happening, and the second was slow to react from heavy drinking. He lasted but moments before he too fell to my blade. The last one standing was the man whose face I recognised. He put up a good fight, but in the end all three of their heads adorned spears in the camp that night.”

  “Finally, some good news,” Pacian murmured appreciatively.

  “You appreciate what I did,” Valennia remarked, “yet the elders of the akora were outraged that a woman had killed these men in cold blood. Erag raged about the injustice, and when I told them of their crime, they refused to acknowledge my words as truth. It was only through the influence of my father, who was now chieftain, that I was not put to death for slaying those men. Exile was to be my punishment, and truth be told I was glad to leave that place, for with Erag’s influence, my people were heading down a dark path.”

  “Now I understand the source of your rage,” Nellise remarked quietly. “I too began to walk down the path of hatred and vengeance just recently, until I was set aright by a good man who reminded me that there is a better way to deal with pain. Anger can be a powerful weapon, but I don’t want to see you lose yourself to it, Val. I can help… if you’ll let me.”

  “You have your methods, and I have mine,” the akoran warrior replied distantly. Nellise gazed at her with a searching expression for a long moment before speaking again.

  “One day soon we will speak of this again, and when we do, I hope you will be in a more receptive mood,” she said with a note of lament.

  “Your story makes me think my own exile was not such a bad thing after all,” Sayana interrupted, offering her hand to Valennia in support. “It is possible we can work towards changing things within akora in the future, Val, but none of this explains why you were so eager to fight that dragon.”

  “I feel that I need to prove myself as a great warrior, so I might be accepted once more by my people,” Valennia explained simply. “To take the head of a dragon back to my home would bring me that acceptance — nobody could deny such a feat.”

  “True enough, but let’s try to find something a little more reasonable to fight next time,” Nellise advised with a smile.

  “I think we’ve lost that chance, now,” Pacian sighed. “After losing dozens of soldiers, the dwarves would be unlikely to send in more.” They were interrupted by a knock at the door. Pacian opened it and found Tosh standing out in the hall.

  “What’s the word, sarge?” Pacian asked as the burly soldier limped into the room.

  “I’ve heard back from the king’s council,” he replied grimly, speaking to everyone present. “I’m to escort ya to an audience with King Sulinus immediately. But ye should know, word of the battle has started to spread around and things are getting ugly out on the streets. I’ll be requiring ye all to stow yer weapons here for the time begin, as they won’t be permitted in the king’s court. I have a suspicion if ye take Thanesedge in with ya, it’ll be taken from ya whether ye like it or not, and perhaps not for the best.”

  “What do you mean?” Nellise asked suspiciously.

  “Old Hamish is really just the mouthpiece for a movement that’s been growing fer decades now,” Tosh explained. “There are whispers o’ revolution in the streets, and it ain’t pretty. That axe is gonna be at the centre of it all, so best to keep it well hidden until it’s all figured out, I say.”

  “They know we’re staying here, I assume,” Nellise observed. “There’s nothing to stop anyone getting in here and taking it, should they so desire.”

  “This is a diplomatic suite, ma’am,” Tosh disputed. “They canna take anything without yer express permission, or risk problems with Aielund in t’ process. And there’s probably a bunch o’ secret hatches in here someplace, politics being politics n’ all.”

  Pacian smirked at that comment, then immediately started searching around for any hidden doors or compartments. He spent a few minutes going over the walls and furniture while Nellise spoke to Tosh about conditions out in the city, before the sergeant seemed to reach the limits of his patience.

  “You think yer just gonna stumble across ‘em by accident?” he exclaimed with a mocking chuckle, that died in his throat when Pacian discovered a strange bump on the wall behind the desk, and watched as a small compartment opened up just above the fireplace across the room. It would have been impossible to tell it was there, as t
he door matched the stone brickwork around it precisely.

  “Clever,” Pacian remarked, almost to himself. “It’s well hidden, and next to the fire in case vital documents need to be destroyed.” He shifted the loose brick again, and the door closed without a sound.

  “Well, I guess that’ll do fer now,” Tosh remarked. “Throw yer kit in there and it’ll be safe enough.”

  “I’m sure your people know the ins and outs of this room, though,” Pacian pointed out.

  “I wouldn’t know about that,” Tosh shrugged. “But no fancy locks or compartments would be much use if’n we knew all about ‘em, so I’d guess yer own engineers came in and made some changes we don’t know about.” Sayana drew out Thanesedge carefully placed the axe within.

  Nellise and Valennia put their weapons on a rack near the door, and Pacian drew his two daggers with a flourish and put them into the desk drawers, hoping that nobody would remember he carried another eight blades strapped in various locations on his leathers.

  “I do not feel right, walking the streets of this place with no means of defending myself or my comrades,” Valennia stated, gazing down at the scythe with longing.

  “Yer in our city now, and it falls to me and my men to keep ya safe,” Tosh assured her. “After saving our lives, I can guarantee ya that no harm will come to any of ya while ye walk these halls. Now, if ye’ll follow me, I’ll escort ya to see the king. I’ll put one o’ me lads on the door to keep an eye on yer stuff.”

  Pacian graciously permitted the ladies to leave first, and even offered to help Valennia along. The wounded woman was too proud to accept his help, brushing aside his hand with impatient disdain. Nellise caught his eye as she brought up the rear, just behind the akoran.

  “There but for the grace of God go I,” she whispered with a meaningful glance.

  Chapter Eight

  Aiden’s sandy eyes opened to the brightness of the morning sun streaming in through the window. His sides ached, and he discovered he was still wearing his breastplate.