Ancients

by Riley Keene

  Guards approached Athala and she tried to glare at them. But she was tired, scared, and defenseless. She had nothing to offer and as much as she knew she should fight, the idea of being beaten before being beheaded just didn’t have any appeal.

  Athala still threw a half-hearted kick at the first one that approached her. The guards just ignored the feeble brush of her foot against the metal armor. One roughly grabbed her and pressed her up against the wall as the other manacled her. It was with a dry twist of a grin that Athala realized that the impact of her kick had probably hurt her toes worse than it had the guard’s shin.

  As she was drug from her cell to stand with the slightly dazed Elise in the hall, the large barbarian in plate armor entered Ermolt’s cell. There was a moment of silence as the two of them sized each other up. Athala heard Ermolt sigh.

  “I don’t suppose I might convince you to come quietly, brother?” the metal-clad man offered.

  “You know you couldn’t,” Ermolt said, sighing again. “Men of the northern tribes do not fear death—”

  “—they only fear dying unbloodied,” the large guard finished, his tone somewhere between respect and resentment.

  “Will you do me the honor?” There was a shuffling sound and Athala could just barely see Ermolt bending into a fighting stance, curling his hands into fists. “To bloody and be bloodied in return by another of the north is the best I can ask for now.”

  The scuffle was short lived and one-sided. The unoccupied guard in scale mail and the one in padded armor stood to either side of the door as the plate-clad barbarian entered the cell, allowing Athala a slightly better view of the two men.

  Ermolt landed one solid punch to the guard’s face, but every other blow was ineffective on the finely-crafted platemail. Meanwhile, each of the guard’s blows was lent the weight of his armor. It was only a moment before a bruised and bleeding Ermolt was forced against the wall and manacled.

  With their prisoners bound, the guards muscled them out of their cells and began down the hall. The guard in padded armor led the way, followed by four guards surrounding Elise. Each of them had one hand gripping her shoulders or arms, ready to keep her under control if she were to begin acting up again.

  Behind them was Athala, a guard on either side with firm grips on her shoulders, with just a wary eye on her. Athala would have been insulted had she not been completely useless. Having her magic taken away made her realize just how weak she was without it.

  Bringing up the rear was Ermolt and the barbarian guard. Ermolt walked of his own power, head held upright to let the blood of his beating run down to his chin. The giant guard behind him kept a hand resting on his shoulder, not forcefully, but ready to react should the need arise.

  The ninth guard remained at the vacant cells, carefully checking them for security before closing them up.

  The message was clear—the previous occupants would not be returning.

  As they were led down the hallway, Athala spied the forlorn faces of other prisoners, what few decided to watch, through the barred windows in their doors. There was no hooting or mocking as she would have expected. Just a resigned silence, almost respectful. Athala thought it made the whole matter feel more frightening. It distanced the experience from what few braggart’s tales she had heard about prisons.

  At the end of the hallway was a door and the guard in padded armor unlocked it and stepped through. He held the door open as the rest of the group filed out of the hallway.

  Beyond the door was a small courtyard that was open to the sky. Dew clung to the ground, and the air was still chill with night air. The sun had not yet risen high enough to warm the space, though the sky was the blue of daytime. Elise and Athala shivered at the cold, but Ermolt sighed, as if trying to take some solace in the pleasant temperature.

  Someone, at some point, had tried to make the courtyard a somewhat cultured place, but no one had cared to maintain it. Along the walls were bushes that alternated between something scrawny and unhealthy in the absence of direct sunlight, and something that had overgrown, untrimmed, with running vines reaching up and out along the walls. There was some sparse grass, and stone walkways that led from doors on each of the four walls to the center of the courtyard.

  In the center was a block of wood, long-since stained a deep red. Two pits had been carved out of it on opposite sides, and the deepest red was on the space in between, which was scored and marked. Next to the block stood a man in a black hood, an axe resting across his shoulder.

  There was one more person out here, and from her outfit it was clear she was not a guard, but a clerk. She wore a long warm robe over her clothes to ward off the morning chill, though her hands still trembled a little. The clerk cleared her throat and gestured impatiently to the guards, who ushered the prisoners forward.

  “It’s about time—it’s too cold this morning to be waiting around out here for so long.” The clerk seemed a bit snappy, and Athala wondered if it were the cold or the dark deed she was about to be involved in.

  “They didn’t come quietly,” the giant barbarian guard said in his defense, gesturing with one hand to the trickle of blood running from his nose.

  “And I’m sure you could not have foreseen that,” the cleric said with a sigh, shaking her head. “Listen, the sooner this is done, the sooner we can all get back to normal. The Deputy Warden was very clear about this being fast and quiet, so the rest of you may be excused.” She gestured dismissively with one hand before making some notes on her clipboard.

  Most of the guards left the way they had came. One of the guards in splint mail stayed put behind Elise. The guard in padded armor tried to stay as well, but with a hissed admonishment, one of the others grabbed him and dragged him with the rest out of the courtyard.

  “Alright,” the clerk continued, her posture shifting slightly to be more relaxed. Her voice took on the tone of one reciting something official that she had read a thousand times before. “We are gathered here beneath the open sky so that the Gods may pass judgment on these criminals.” She looked down at the clipboard, reading off. “Long-haired barbarian, uncooperative warrior-priestess, and nail-biting wizard, you have been found guilty—”

  “By Dasis’ Fawn, you couldn’t even write down fake names?” Ermolt said, his laughter cutting through the morning air. “Let me guess, did your mother get you this job?”

  “As I was saying,” the clerk resumed, ignoring Ermolt’s taunt, “you have been found guilty of acts too seditious to speak of aloud, along with your more mundane crimes of trespassing, blasphemy, resisting arrest, and murder. Your sentence is death, to be carried out immediately by beheading.”

  “Sentence?” Elise snapped. “By what authority? No lawfully-appointed magistrate saw us, and you don’t even know our names! You’re just sweeping us under the rug for coin, so don’t sully the whole justice system by pretending this is a real execution.”

  Athala wanted to tell the Conscript not to bother—they knew that Auernheim was a pit of corruption—but it made no difference anyway. The clerk just ignored her.

  “If you have anything to say,” the clerk continued, “before the Gods, now would be the time.”

  “The Gods know the truth of what’s happening here,” Athala said quietly. She looked up at the clerk and pinned the woman with a frightening glare. Athala was surprised how unafraid she was, with her own death looming less than twenty fen away. “They will see our unjust deaths and know who had their parts in our murder. They will remember your crimes when your time comes for judgment.” The clerk flinched at that, but the guard and the headsman seemed unmoved.

  “Let’s get on with it,” the guard said, grabbing Elise by the shoulder and leading her toward the block. “The sooner this is done, the sooner we can join him down beneath the city.” He let his grin broadened. “I understand we’ll have quite the victory to celebrate.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  “Wait.” Elise dug her feet into the soft ground as the guard b
rought her close to the block. It caused her to drag a bit behind the guard, but he only put both hands around her elbow and yanked. His redoubled efforts forced her down to her knees, and he wrenched her forward a bit easier now. “Please,” Elise said, still trying to fight, “just one moment. A last request.”

  “What’s the matter now?” the guard said, leaning over her. Elise was assaulted by this man’s idea of an early-morning snack—some sort of pickled meat, most likely dilray from the smell. She tried to pull away from him, but his grip on her arm tightened and so she was forced to endure.

  “I’d like to say a final prayer.” Elise was surprised by how meek her own voice sounded. It was distant too, as if a wide kren separated the physical and mental parts of her being.

  This was what it was like to accept death.

  It seemed very empty.

  Elise had always assumed she’d live to some ripe old age, as her mentors had. She would eventually become a Knight Conscript, and in her heart of hearts she had dreamed of becoming the High Conscript, of leading Ydia’s forces to pray and do good in her name. But somehow she’d been roped into becoming an adventurer. And now she was going to die.

  The guard looked to the clerk and a small part of Elise was relieved to see he understood her desire. A religious man himself, most likely, even if he was too corrupted by this place to be holy.

  The woman rolled her eyes and waved a hand. “Just see to it they’re all taken care of,” the clerk said. She made a few notes on her clipboard before turning on her heel and heading towards the door on the far side of the courtyard. “I’ve already marked them as departed.” Her tone turned angry, and Elise found herself shivering again. “If something happens, if I have to re-write this entire document, I will see to it that the Deputy Warden knows why this is taking up the rest of my morning. And I’m sure he will love to chat about it.” She let the door to the courtyard slam closed behind her as she left them alone with the guard and the headsman.

  The guard visibly shook. Elise felt a ghost of a smile cross her lips—not in kindred spirits perhaps, but in understanding—but she was cuffed across the head for it. The assault scattered Elise’s thoughts and brought sparks of light to her vision. She was glad, however, that he only wore leather bracers instead of the metal ones of the death row guards.

  The guard stepped back from Elise and he sneered down at her. “Beseech your God, Conscript, if you think it will do you any good. Perhaps now She will finally find you worthy of saving?” He laughed uproariously, as if he’d made some hilarious joke.

  Elise ignored the jab and bowed her head. Spots of color swam behind her eyes and she focused on her breathing for a moment until they passed.

  “Ydia, God of Life, to whom all honor, glory, praise, and worship are due, hear my words.” Elise swallowed hard. “Your Holy Word commands me to be joyful in all things, and to give thanks for trials and hardships. I understand that Life, created in Your glory, is a test and that You only give a hard test to a good student. That You never give a student a test harder than—than...”

  Elise trailed off and opened her eyes. The words refused to come. In this final moment, Elise didn’t feel particularly moved by the prayers that she’d repeated a thousand times before today. Instead, she was moved by the sight of the bloody block of wood before her. With a hard swallow, she started again.

  “I won’t beg You for a miracle, for I know You know better than I. And I won’t beg You for another chance, for I know I have asked for plenty and failed You in all. I know that asking to save myself a selfish thing to do. It’s selfish to put Your power and wisdom on trial here when I’ve already failed to avoid this fate myself. I know this can’t be avoided anymore.” She sniffled, swallowed, and pressed on. “So all I have to say is thank you. Thank you for the time I got to spend with my friends.

  “Thank You for the good times during this past month. Thank You for bringing these two loons into my life. For the night at the bar on the east side of town, when Ermolt tried to rough up that man for information and instead got his butt kicked.” Elise smiled at the snort of laughter behind her. “Or the day we fought those bandits out by the quarry, and got chased by wolves the whole way back to the city—”

  She tried to hold the tears back, but they were already halfway down her cheeks.

  “I’m sorry I failed You—whatever You plan was for what we found beneath the city. Please don’t judge the others for my failure. I’m the one You gave this mission to, and it’s not their fault that I failed. Judge me however you want. Spare them. Please. I plead this of You with a sincere heart, Ydia, God of Life.” She took a deep breath, and let it out, trying to calm herself. She put every ounce of faith she had in her being into the final words of the prayer, reaching out as hard as she could. “Provide me with Your glorious light and lead me so that I might illuminate the darkness of the world in Your name.”

  A stillness dropped over the courtyard as all present waited with bated breath. A sign of the Gods, a miracle brought to life, would be like something out of a storybook. But a moment passed, and then a moment more. But there was still no tell-tale glow and no warmth. No sign at all that Ydia had acknowledged her.

  Elise sat, stunned, on the cold ground, the morning dew seeping through the thin cloth of her trousers.

  “That was very touching,” the guard said as he returned to her side. “Very noble, too. I’m sure she heard your words and will do whatever it is the Gods do with them in Grunith. Wipe their crack, most likely.” He planted his knee between her shoulder blades, pushing her forward. “Let’s get this done then.”

  The sudden weight unbalanced Elise and she fell towards the block. Her manacled hands prevented her from catching herself and Elise found herself fearing a broken neck as she fell forward. The irony of such a thing almost made her laugh. The edge of her collarbone struck the hollow that was carved for her shoulder, causing her to cry out. Even after her death, when she bled out all over this lovely little courtyard, there was likely to be bruising there. The guard grabbed Elise under her arms and jerked her forward into place.

  Deep in the logical parts of her mind, Elise knew it was just the cold of the morning, but the touch of the wood on her throat felt wet. A cold panic seized her mind before she got herself under control. Undignified screaming and carrying on would do nothing to improve her situation. It would only make her companions more upset. Elise looked up at the headsman, looming over her as he got into position, and she thought of the blood that would be soaking the block soon.

  She wasn’t strong enough to watch her own death coming, so she tried to look elsewhere. Her back was to her companions, which was good as well. They wouldn’t see her tears of fear.

  With nowhere else to look, Elise found herself staring down at the basket on the other side of the block. It was lined with thick cloth to keep it from dripping when they removed it to discard the contents. The basket was big enough for three, even considering Ermolt’s large head.

  Athala was likely next. The wizard—her friend—would be forced to stare down at Elise’s head when she took her turn. Would they meet eyes, one dead and one alive, before the headsman’s axe ended yet another life?

  Elise felt her breathing speed up again in panic, and she tried to slow it down. She took a long, deep breath, filling her lungs for what she thought would be one last time.

  She held it.

  The headman shifted next to her and Elise assumed it was to raise the axe.

  But another sound, a louder sound from elsewhere in the courtyard caught her attention.

  It was a door. A door opening.

  She couldn’t see it, but she much more clearly heard the guard drawing his sword right behind her.

  “Oh, there you are,” came a familiar voice. “Excuse me folks, can I just borrow Ermolt for a moment?”

  “Detlev,” Elise said, barely breathing the word. “By Ydia’s Blessing.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Detlev surveyed the
room before continuing. Everyone seemed to be about where he expected them, and they all seemed to be the right level of shocked. He grinned wide. Excellent. He hated to waste a good entrance.

  “Oh, Elise and Athala too. Good. I guess you two can help as well.” Detlev let his grin fade into a smile, ignoring the looks of incredulous confusion on the faces of Ermolt, Athala, and the guard. Elise’s head was turned away, but he could almost sense the confusion radiating from her being. “See, Ermolt, I had so appreciated how our trade worked out before and I was hoping we could do another.”

  “Who are you?” the guard said. The man was still holding his sword, but he didn’t seem to know what to do with it. “What are you doing out here?”

  “You know, glad you asked. But it’s a really long story and I’ve just about run out of time. So I’m just going to skip it. I hope you understand.” Detlev gave the guard his best apologetic smile as he finished slipping through the door. The heavy thing closed quietly behind him.

  He started toward the center of the courtyard, keeping his hands behind his back. “Seriously though, listen Ermolt. I’m in a real bind here so I’ll give you a favorable deal. I’ve got a giant door I can’t open. Big metal thing. Way too heavy for me alone. You help me with it real quick, and I’ll trade you two lives for it.”

  The barbarian just stared. Detlev laughed out loud at the obvious confusion.

  “Back away, now!” the guard said as Detlev got closer, brandishing his sword. He took up a fighting stance as if finally remembering how to use the weapon. “Get on the ground, face down, and you might leave this courtyard with your head on your shoulders instead of in a basket.”

  “Time’s wasting, Ermolt,” Detlev said in a sing-song voice, his grin widening. “If it helps, you’re the reason I need this door open in the first place. I missed my sentencing for your wizard friend.”