Soldiers of Ruin

by Stephen L. Nowland

  “This chief is weak,” Valennia declared loudly. “He allows his opinions to be swayed by his vassals and makes no attempt to exert authority.”

  “I don’t think we’re getting access to their artifacts any time soon,” Sayana sighed. As Pacian turned to look at her, he noticed a glint of steel from one of the nearby doorways. Alarmed, he glanced around the hall, and although it was quite dark in the shadows, he had a terrible suspicion as to what was about to happen.

  On an impulse, he took out his goggles and as soon as he placed them over his eyes, the shadows revealed several dozen heavily armed dwarves, some of which were wearing half metal armour, half tattered leathers.

  The MacAliese clan of Ferrumgaard had arrived.

  Standing in the dark near the great double-doors was Old Hamish himself, clad from head to foot in heavy plate armour and wielding Thanesedge in one hand. He seemed to watch the proceedings with grim satisfaction, before walking down the aisle towards the throne, his metal boots ringing ominously with each footfall.

  “Look at ya!” Hamish bellowed as he entered the light of the flames, almost at once gathering the attention of everyone present. “Bickerin’ and arguin’ while yer city falls apart around ye! There’s a reason a MacTavish has ne’er been king o’ the dwarves, and yer lookin’ right at it!”

  “And ya think ye can do better, Hamish MacAliese?” Sulinus roared back, his council shuffling to either side of the throne to clear the way for the confrontation about to take place. “Yer a bastard fourth cousin to a long dead king, a man too short-sighted to see his own downfall staring him straight in the face, and ya think ye’ll do a better job?”

  “I know I can,” Hamish retorted, the sounds of shuffling feet echoing through the hall as his supporters made their presence known. The reflected light from three dozen eyes gleamed at them from the shadows, and the shining points of crossbows, spears and axes left no doubt as to the reason for their presence.

  The dwarves of the council slowly backed away, but Sulinus himself held his ground. The many weapons on display on to the walls might be put to good use, as the councillors put themselves in position to grab whatever they could.

  “A fraction of noble blood is a damn sight better’n whatever runs through yer veins, Sulinus,” Hamish continued. “I may be pushin’ two hunnerd years, but that just means I remember what it was like in the old days. The way yer runnin’ the show is a bloody disgrace. Out of respect to yer long years o’ service, I’ll give ya this one chance to step down peaceably. Otherwise, me friends’ll have to show ya the door.”

  Tosh was holding a stout warhammer in one hand and pulled out his round shield with the other, warily backing up to where Nellise was watching this new development with trepidation.

  Valennia appeared ready to spring into action at any moment and Sayana was casually moving her arms about, downplaying the gestures that helped her enact her defensive magic. Pacian licked his lips, his heart racing at the prospect of a fight of this magnitude. Whatever happened, he would fight to the death to protect Nellise.

  “If ya think ye can take the city with a few dozen scraggly lookin’ bastards, ya need to get yer head checked,” Sulinus challenged.

  “Strong words, Sulinus,” Hamish remarked, unfazed by the prospect of fighting ten thousand warriors. “Ya clearly trust yer confidants implicitly. I mean, here you are, standin’ in the middle of the room with naught but yer clothes fer protection, while I’m here with dozens of Ferrumgaard’s finest. I thought a king, beloved of his subjects, might have at least one guard on duty?” The king narrowed his eyes suspiciously, and Pacian suddenly understood the reason for the guard’s absence.

  Crossbow bolts shot forth from the shadows, and it was only Pacian’s taut reflexes and knack for sensing trouble that prevented him from being perforated a dozen times over. He wasn’t the only one to spring into action either — King Sulinus, for all his grandstanding, darted behind his solid gold throne while his counsellors ran for the nearest door.

  Valennia immediately rushed over to the wall and pulled an ornate poleaxe down from its place of honour. The ten-foot long weapon was tipped with a massive, broad-bladed axe and was clearly designed for fighting mounted infantry. Valennia had other targets in mind. Another wave of crossbow bolts shot across the room, all of them seemingly aimed at random. Nellise squealed and ducked behind Tosh’s shield, which stopped several bolts from striking them.

  The few stray quarrels that struck Sayana bounced off her protective spectral armour, and she responded by creating a wall of fire across the middle of the hall, preventing anyone on the other side from seeing properly. Pacian took advantage of the diversion to duck into the shadows alongside the hall, which was rife with nooks and crannies he could hide in.

  The brief protection the fire provided ended when, with a thunderous roar, the host of MacAliese warriors charged in, heedless of the flames. Most of them made it through only lightly singed, but several of them dropped to the ground and rolled around in a futile attempt to put out the fires that had caught on their clothing.

  After boldly challenging the flames, however, the clan ran into their next obstacle, that of a towering woman with a giant axe. Gripping the long shaft with both hands, Valennia swept the huge weapon back and forth, slicing through armour and flesh alike.

  Sayana rose into the air to float safely above the fray, and with her palms extended, sent a ball of fire shooting down their midst. The ensuing explosion sent a dozen broken and charred bodies flying through the air, freeing up Valennia’s right flank from assault as she continued to hew away at the persistent dwarven host.

  Pacian waited patiently in the shadows until most of the enemy had run past him, and then seized the opportunity to strike at the closet dwarf, stabbing him in the kidneys through his chain armour. His rage sent another surge of adrenaline through his veins, and Pacian dashed along the backs of the host, stabbing and slashing at anyone who didn’t see him coming.

  Valennia was slowly being pushed back by the assault, and the dwarven warriors howled in anticipation of spilled blood. She put her weapon to good use, not just cutting into their ranks but blocking their weapons with the long haft of the polearm.

  For all her efforts, too many of the enemy had slipped past her weapon’s arc and she was forced to fight defensively. One of the dwarves stabbed her with a spear, catching her in one leg. She responded immediately, striking the shaft of the spear with her axe and breaking it in half. Valennia then shoved the handle of her weapon into the face of the dwarf who had struck her, breaking his jaw and dropping him to the ground.

  Despite their best efforts however, Valennia’s position was being overrun. The akoran warrior took hit after hit from blows she simply couldn’t avoid, and although her armour took some of the damage, she was getting pummelled from every direction.

  Gritting his teeth, Pacian cracked a distracted dwarf’s head with the pommel of his dagger, and then slashed him across the throat, heaving aside the dying warrior to strike at another behind him. After killing two more of the unsuspecting warriors, Pacian could see they had won the fight, but the cost of their victory became very clear a moment later.

  Valennia cleaved the skull of one of the few MacAliese’s remaining, dropping him lifelessly to the ground, but she didn’t even try to pull the axe out of the corpse afterward. Instead, she staggered to one side, falling onto the scorched floor of the great hall in a bloodied mess of lacerations and bruises.

  “Val!” Pacian cried, his voice hoarse as the remaining dwarves fled the battle in terror and made for the exit. He ignored them, rushing to the fallen woman’s side as Sayana descended to the floor, pale and wearied from her efforts. Valennia didn’t respond to Pacian’s call, surely a bad sign from a woman who had never been afraid to voice her opinions.

  “She needs healing immediately,” Sayana remarked, drawing a withering glance from Pacian.

  “Nel, get over here, Val’s badly hurt,” he called, taking note of
how much blood was flowing from the akoran woman. When there was no reply from Nellise, Pacian looked over to just in front of the throne where he had last seen her. King Sulinus, apparently uninjured, was emerging from behind the golden chair. Of Nellise, there was no sign.

  “Nellise?” Pacian called again as a chill ran up his spine. He looked around frantically, but couldn’t see any sign of her distinctive white robe. Sayana repeated his call to no avail. Unable to spare a moment to look for her, Pacian reached into his pouch and drew out a bandage, and did his best to staunch the flow of blood from Valennia’s many wounds.

  “By Relnak, what has the traitor done,” Sulinus breathed at the sight of so many bodies before him. He took a few shaky steps through the carnage, his nose wrinkling at the stench of burnt flesh. The throne room was like a slaughterhouse, and were it not for Valennia and the others, the king would surely have been killed in the fight.

  “We need a healer here, now,” Pacian ordered of the king, in no mood for proper courtesy and titles.

  “Fetch the priest, immediately!” Sulinus called over his shoulder, and one of the few remaining councillors pulled himself together and dashed out the door that led further into the royal chambers.

  “Did you see Nellise? What happened to her?” Pacian demanded.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t see where she went,” the king replied soberly. Four of his councillors approached as he spoke.

  “Yer Majesty, the city is under attack,” an older dwarf with an intricately plaited beard remarked grimly, placing a reassuring hand on his king’s shoulder. “Yer royal guard have been compromised, and until we can figure out who’s loyal, we need to get ya safe, right away. Let us take care of the traitor and his insurgents.”

  “How did they even get in here?” Sulinus mumbled, still in shock.

  “I don’t know, but we’re going to do everything we can to stop this madness,” the old councillor promised. From the rear of the hall, a robed dwarf of ancient appearance was moving towards them as quickly as he could. When he arrived, he knelt down next to the unconscious Valennia and pulled a crystal out of his pouch.

  “She is mortally wounded,” he explained in a desiccated voice after a few moments of examination. “Leave her with me, and perhaps Relnak will reward her incredible bravery in battle.”

  “He’d better, or I’m gonna slice his tongue off,” Pacian growled, gently laying her head down and rising to his feet.

  “Hang in there, sister,” Sy whispered to Val as she stroked her matted hair. In the distance, faint echoes of fighting could be heard, punctuated with the occasional scream as the MacAliese clan set about their black works. Of paramount concern to Pacian was the sudden disappearance of Nellise, and apparently Tosh.

  “Sy, can you find any tracks that might give us an idea where they went?” Pacian asked as the ancient priest of the dwarven god whispered his prayers over Valennia.

  “I will try,” she promised, pulling herself away and lightly stepping over the battlefield before crouching to examine the floor for any sign of their passage.

  “There was a scuffle over here,” Sayana remarked from nearby, pointing at the various prints on the bloodied floor. “Four people of short stature seem to have grabbed Nellise and dragged her away.” Pacian came over for a closer look, noting that they were far removed from where most of the fighting had taken place.

  “The attack came from over there,” he murmured with a glance to the long hallway. He pictured in his mind everyone’s position at the beginning of the battle and came to a dreadful conclusion. “There was nobody over here… except the king’s councillors!”

  “If one of them had attacked her, Tosh would have stopped them,” Sayana disputed. “Or at least given them a fight. There’s no sign that he even put up a struggle, if I’m reading this right.”

  Pacian rubbed his brow and sighed in frustration. Aiden would have been able to put all this together by now, and Pacian knew he was overlooking something important. The MacAliese army had entered Stonegaard without anyone noticing, Sloane had somehow stolen Thanesedge and the rest of their weapons, and Tosh didn’t put up a fight when Nellise was taken to God knows where. He stared down at Valennia, who was clinging to life with the help of the dwarven priest, and it all suddenly fell into place.

  “They came underground,” he whispered to himself, ignoring Sayana’s confused look. “They never even stepped foot through the front gates, because they found a way here without ever going above ground.”

  “The MacAliese’s?” Sayana wondered. “But wouldn’t there be guards in the underground places too?”

  “Maybe, but far fewer,” Pacian surmised. “They’d still need help getting into the city proper, even if the mines and unfinished sections weren’t heavily watched. They’d need someone in the military, one of the guards.”

  “You don’t mean…” Sayana replied in wide-eyed disbelief.

  “Tosh,” Pacian practically spat the word. “He has enough clout in the city guards to allow a small army in through the lower tunnels.”

  “He’s been so helpful. Why would he betray us like this, especially after saving his life?”

  “Remember what he said earlier, that he had no love for this king,” Pacian reminded her. “When we arrived back here after escaping the dragon, he herded us into the inn when Hamish started that small riot.”

  “That must have been a coincidence,” Sayana scoffed.

  “Was it? They knew we were coming back sooner or later — assuming we weren’t killed by the dragon of course — so we were pushed back into our room for a while, until we had an audience with the king. At which point, Tosh told us—”

  “Told us to leave our weapons in the room before we left,” Sayana breathed.

  “Where Sloane was already waiting for us,” Pacian finished, yelling at the top of his lungs, screaming at the ceiling. “She got out with our gear when the guard was distracted. Bloody marvellous.” He spat out a vile curse and felt the urgent need to punch something.

  “I don’t know, Pacian,” Sayana hedged. “I’m still not sure Tosh was involved. He gave you that dagger, for starters.”

  “A practically worthless weapon, but useful for buying my gratitude,” Pacian shrugged callously. “I’m not even sure it’s vythir, to be honest. Maybe we can ask him before I stick it between his ribs. You can follow their tracks, right?”

  “Probably,” Sayana replied dubiously.

  “Actually, I don’t think that matters,” Pacian said with a flash of insight. “I know where they’re going anyway.”

  * * *

  It was a short journey to the candle shop, wherein the secret passage into the depths of the mountain was hidden. The sounds of distress echoing through the streets indicated that a greater battle was being fought elsewhere in the city, but Pacian couldn’t do anything to help them now. He had something more important in mind.

  The candle shop was as he had left it, with the front door locked and the secret passage covered so that nobody within would ever have known he was there. It only took him a moment to unlock the front door and head inside, where he quickly pushed the lever to open the wall and reveal the staircase beyond.

  “Look, fresh blood,” Sayana remarked, pointing to a stain on the stairs at their feet.

  “We’re probably right on their tails,” Pacian replied with satisfaction, reaching up to make sure the trapped stairwell was safe. The mechanism had already been deactivated, so he hurried down the stairs with Sayana right behind him.

  Although impatient, he slowed and softened his footfalls as they approached the bottom of the immense staircase. Placing the goggles over his eyes once more, Pacian could see they were arrogant enough to leave nobody to guard the stairs.

  Sayana pressed a hand against his shoulder and stepped around him, conjuring a small sliver of flame that danced in her extended palm. Pacian flinched from the brightness that lit up like a bonfire in his enhanced vision. She carefully examined the stone of the
cave for further signs of their passing and then crept forward, shielding the light from the flame as best she could to prevent them being detected. Pacian would have preferred the light to be out completely, but Sayana’s eyes, although sensitive, were no match for his lenses.

  They passed the smaller offshoots from the main tunnel Pacian had seen earlier, the dull rumbling of distant underground activity echoing along the stone passageway and the faintest hint of orange light from somewhere ahead. When they reached a fork in the road, the sorceress stopped and looked back and forth between them, apparently confused by what she found.

  “The tracks are easy to follow because of the dirt,” she confided when he leaned in closer. “A dozen dwarves went past here recently, dragging Nellise with them. They split into two groups at this point.”

  “Which one took Nellise?” Pacian hissed, wondering why there was even a question of which path to follow.

  “I can find no sign of her tracks anymore, so they might be carrying her,” Sayana explained. “Only three of them went down the left fork and they seem to be heavier impressions, so my guess is they carried her that way.”

  “That’s where I’m going then,” Pacian said. “Just to be safe, keep following the other group, and if you run into trouble, yell and I’ll come running.” Sayana nodded, and the two of them silently crept down the separate tunnels.

  There were signs of excavation on the walls along this route, something Pacian hadn’t noticed on his last visit. The minutes seemed to stretch on interminably as he moved along the tunnel. His muscles ached terribly from the long day and he feared that he might collapse within the hour. He had learned the lenses were fatiguing to wear for any length of time, and the stark grey half-light they provided took some getting used to. But without them, he would never have seen the tiny glint of metal from up ahead.

  With cat-like reflexes, Pacian dove to one side just as he heard a familiar click echoing along the tunnel. If he hadn’t moved, the crossbow bolt that shot through the air would have killed him instantly. As it was, it took him in the right arm, piercing deeply into his flesh and rendering it useless.