Death Mark

by Robert J. Schwalb

  “We need to move, gentlemen,” said Alaeda in a voice hoarse from thirst.

  Melech slid the dagger into his belt as Kep packed up their meager possessions.

  “Any idea how we’re getting off this mountain?” asked Melech.

  Alaeda made a noncommittal noise. They had been wandering the mountains for two days, looking for some way down. The lower slopes were too sheer, too broken to make a descent possible. They might try, though Melech was sure a broken leg awaited him somewhere down there.

  Alaeda walked down the trail. Melech and Kep sorted out who would go next. Melech was not about to let the halfling come up behind him, so he waited, arms crossed. Kep nodded and patted his knives before he followed the woman. Melech looked out over the broken landscape. Maybe he should just jump. It would be a quicker death at least. He left the thought behind when he hurried after his companions.

  Alaeda had no idea how they were going to get out of the mountains. She hadn’t given up yet and pushed on despite the scratchiness in her throat and the pangs lancing through her innards. As the sun climbed higher, with the pair somewhere behind her, she returned to the regret she felt for interfering with the two. They hadn’t helped matters by coming along with her and had managed to spread thinner what little food they could scavenge. She was certain they would have killed each other by then, though their hands were never far from their weapons. She wished they would.

  The path narrowed to just a few inches wide, forcing her to push against the wall so she could sidestep around the turn to what she hoped was a wider path on the other side. She couldn’t imagine who made those trails. They weren’t natural and were quite old.

  A sudden wind rushed her, and she felt herself teetering forward. She saw the ground hundreds of feet below her spin, with rocks as sharp as spear points ready to catch her. She slipped but something caught her shirt and drew her back. She fought to catch her breath, closing her eyes and steadying herself. When she opened them, she saw the halfling.

  She laughed and the halfling’s surprise made her laugh all the harder. She didn’t know what she found funny. Maybe it was the company she kept, the unexpected turns her life had taken, or perhaps it was the futility of it all. Her croaking laughter fell away, and she pulled herself together. When ready, she eased around the bend. To her relief, the path did widen, broad enough for them to walk side by side if they wanted. Better still, the trail sloped down and away from the mountains.

  The relief raised all their spirits even though the trek took hours. They stopped at high sun under a rocky shelf to wait for the day to cool. The shadows offered little relief from the incessant wind or the heat. There wasn’t much room, so they had to sit next to each other, a situation Alaeda suspected made Melech and Kep uncomfortable.

  “Thanks,” said Melech. “For the blade. And the help.”

  His face was burned, dark hair a tangled mess from the wind.

  When she didn’t say anything, he pushed on. “What I don’t get is why. So why?”

  She shrugged.

  “And why were you there? What does Vordon want with Torston?”

  She flinched at the suggestion about her connection to the very house she had been working to undermine. “Not Vordon,” she answered.

  “Then who?”

  “What’s with these questions, Melech?” she asked.

  “Er … nothing. The dagger,” he said and pointed to the glittering hilt. “I just wondered what Vordon’s interest was in our … mission. Is Torston involved with your house somehow?”

  “Not my house, I told you. And no, not that I know of. I thought Torston was working with Stel, but now I wonder.”

  “Stel? Who are they?” asked Melech.

  “My house,” she answered. She should have held that back, but what difference did it make anymore?

  “Your house? What do they want with us?”

  She shook her head. “Melech, I can’t say.”

  “Can’t? I think we’re a little beyond secrets now.”

  “No, I don’t know. I thought … I thought my people were working with your people, but those undead …”

  “So what do they want with Stel?” Melech asked.

  “You tell me,” she answered. She wasn’t looking at Melech when she asked. She looked at the halfling. “Stel wouldn’t have anything to do with undead.”

  The halfling kicked a stone from the path and sent it clattering to the rocks below. “Bad business, this,” he said.

  Melech and Alaeda both looked at him.

  “What do you know about this, Kep?” asked Melech.

  The halfling glared at Melech. Alaeda didn’t expect him to say anything. After a few minutes, the halfling said, “Some. Galadan came to Torston a few weeks ago. The elf wanted to hire the boss to kill several merchants hidden in the city. I heard something about House Stel. Your people are dead.”

  Alaeda shook her head in disbelief. “That bastard. I knew there was no way Stel would recruit an elf. Vordon was onto our plan from the start.”

  “Sorry, Alaeda, I have no idea what this all means,” said Melech. “What does Galadan gain from killing your agents? Furthermore, what is Shom’s stake in this?”

  “Hells,” said Alaeda, “it doesn’t matter now. I don’t know how Galadan found out about our plans, but I can guess at the reasons. House Stel has always taken a hostile stance toward the elf merchant tribes. My family crossed his at some point in the past I bet. Somehow he got wind of our plans, and he went to the only place he could. Vordon. But Vordon would not move against my people, not in the open. So he turned to Torston to do the dirty work. I wonder what the elf promised your master,” she said.

  Melech still looked confused. “So aside from murdering me, why send us to the under-city? Is the elf tied to the undead?”

  Alaeda shook her head. She didn’t know.

  The halfling ran his tongue over his teeth. “A woman came to the Rat’s Nest a while back, just walked in bold as a mul. She told Torston she wanted him to let her friends into the city. She threatened him. I’ve never seen him so frightened.”

  “A woman?” she said.

  “Dragonflies,” said the halfling. “She wore a cloak covered in white dragonflies.”

  “Shom,” she said. “Oh, those sons of bitches!”

  Melech and Kep looked up. She said, “My house wanted to weaken Vordon so when Hamanu conquered Tyr or when he failed to conquer the city, the rights to mine and distribute the iron would be ours. I was told to bring House Shom into the plan, to use them to insulate ourselves against reprisals and suspicion. House Shom was supposed to hit Vordon caravans. House Shom aims to take the iron for themselves.”

  She stood up. “We need to hurry.”

  “To where?” asked Melech.

  “Back to Tyr,” she said.

  “Right. So we’re heading back to die.” He got to his feet anyway.

  “You’ll die out here. Pick your death. Follow me or go your own way,” said Alaeda, and she sped off down the mountainside. Melech and Kep looked at each other, shrugged, and followed her.

  Just as the sun slipped behind the peaks, drenching the mountains in shadows, they heard the footfalls of marching feet, the creak of wagons, and the rumble of many voices.

  Alaeda hurried down the path, weaving around the debris littering the path with surprising agility given her fatigue. Melech and Kep kept pace. Melech didn’t think he could keep up for long. He glanced at the halfling and saw his companion was in about the same shape. The distance between them had shrunk somewhat after their earlier revelations. Melech still expected Kep to shove a blade between his ribs at any time.

  Alaeda disappeared around another turn.

  “Damn it,” rasped Melech. He tried to run faster, but his body refused, and he slowed to a trot, then a walk, so by the time he rounded the corner, he was holding himself up on a boulder.

  The path joined a wide road leading further up into the mountains. Steep walls stood to either side
, sheer with chisel marks showing the road had been cleared long past. Torches bobbed up the road. A procession descended from the mountains’ heights.

  Alaeda retreated a few steps to get out of sight. Melech dropped down at her side. Kep was with them a moment later.

  “Who are they?” asked Melech between breaths.

  “How should I know?” spit Alaeda.

  The light soon reached them, and the people materialized as a ragtag band of dirty, stained workers. Most carried picks and spades slung over their shoulders along with the torches lighting their way.

  “Miners? I didn’t think Tithian had reopened them yet,” she said.

  The miners hurried down the old road. Melech spotted many humans, scores of hairless dwarves, muls, and smatterings of other races well. They didn’t look like they were headed to work. From their angry expressions, Melech thought they were instead heading off to teach someone a lesson. He cringed when a half-giant came into view carrying a battle standard. Someone had nailed a templar to the wooden pole. The man was still alive.

  They were a mob. There had to be a couple hundred at least. Melech was about to ask Alaeda what they should do when she stood up from behind the rock.

  “What are you doing?” hissed Melech.

  “Phytos!” she called.

  A heavy-set mul marching with the workers stopped. A few brutes around him raised their weapons to defend him.

  Kep stood up. Melech followed, reluctant.

  “Alaeda?” asked the mul. He took a few steps forward. He pulled down a scarf from over his mouth to reveal a face equal to the ones belonging to Ugly and Uglier.

  Alaeda ran forward. The mul caught her in a surprised but nevertheless fierce embrace. The guards shuffled their feet, confused.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  “Long story, Phytos. You?”

  “Just as long, I’m afraid. Some elf said the deal was off and you had gone off to Urik. Didn’t think that was like you, but …” he trailed off.

  “Galadan. He fooled me too. Phytos, I thought you were dead.”

  The dwarf guards noticed Melech and Kep, and they took a step toward them. Both held heavy hammers in thick fists.

  “Ah, Alaeda, dear, you haven’t forgotten us?” said Melech, hands raised.

  The halfling made a movement, and Melech flinched away. Kep had just raised his hands.

  “Oh. Right. Phytos, these two, they’re with me.”

  The mul nodded. To the guards, he said, “Go on ahead with the others. Keep them marching. We’re not stopping until dawn. Understood?” The dwarves nodded and hurried off. “Come here,” said Phytos, waving Melech and Kep forward.

  Alaeda made the introductions and filled Phytos in on what had happened.

  The mul scratched his scarred cheek. “Undead? We should cut our losses and get the hell out of here.”

  Alaeda didn’t disagree but shifted. “What about you? What have you been up to?”

  “You sure we can trust them?” he asked.

  “No, but they’re here, and I can deal with them if we need.”

  He nodded. “Let’s walk. My boys tend to get rowdy when I’m not around.” As they moved down the gravel path, Phytos explained, “The elf—Galadan, I guess—told me you had gone and the mission was off. He told me to wait at the inn. Some hooded men broke into my room later and beat me with clubs until I was knocked cold. I woke up in the mines with a templar looking over me, expecting me to work the tunnels. The miners working there were treated bad and told me they had been since Tithian reopened the tunnels.”

  Melech interrupted, “But he hadn’t. Not yet at least.”

  “Oh, that’s what that bastard wants us to think. Tithian’s had miners working since right after the last king died. He’s been keeping the whole thing secret and using slaves for labor. They might have been free by law, but no one bothered to tell them. You can imagine they were none too pleased when I showed up, telling them they were free men. Can you believe it? Tithian had kept them working for a whole year. I figure the king had no choice. No one would work in there, what with the tunnel blight.”

  “What blight?” Alaeda asked.

  “Dunno. Well, not for sure. I think the metal might be tainted. They lose a few workers every couple of days. They just sicken and die, frothing at the lips. Like they were poisoned.”

  “Wonderful,” said Alaeda. “So even if we got the mines out of Vordon’s grasp, we’d bankrupt ourselves trying to dig it out. So what are you doing?” She gestured at the marching miners.

  “Well, after the templar tried to whip me when I said I wasn’t going to work, I broke his arm, his leg, and, well, I broke him. See, I did my stint in the obsidian mines. Never again. The miners got behind me, and we decided we’d march to the city to let folks know what’s going on. Plus, I owe the elf a bit of payback,” he said.

  “Well, we have other problems,” said Alaeda. “Galadan’s in thick with the crime boss Torston. These two work for Torston.” She cocked a thumb at Melech and Kep. “And Torston, at least, is working for Shom.”

  “Oh, that’s rich. I told you we shouldn’t have gotten into bed with those snakes. I’ll break Galadan’s neck, and then I think I’ll go find Mordis.”

  Alaeda said, “No. Not yet. Torston has no reason to suspect anything is up.”

  “Except for the fact Kep and his buddies never returned,” cut in Melech.

  “You don’t think Torston would care, do you?” said Alaeda. “Still, Torston is a problem. We will have to take care of him, won’t we?”

  Melech clamped his mouth shut. He supposed the mul meant to kill Torston. He wasn’t sure how he felt.

  “I need time,” she said.

  “For what? We take out the elf and Torston. Then we’re gone,” said Phytos.

  “Vordon’s still a problem. So is Shom. Whatever the undead were doing in the city,” she said, “it isn’t good.”

  “Look, Alaeda, I’ll do what you say, but something bad is cooking in this city, and I want to be as far away as I can be before someone takes the lid off. I can give you a day at most. These men are spoiling for a fight, and they’re gonna get revenge with or without me.”

  “Right. How far are we from the city?” she asked.

  “If you start walking, you should reach it by sunset tomorrow.”

  Melech groaned.

  Alaeda ignored him. “Phytos, we need food and water.”

  “You got it. Anything else?”

  “One more thing. Take him,” she said, gesturing to the halfling.

  “Hey!” said Melech, not sure why he came to the halfling’s defense.

  Phytos moved so fast, Melech did not even have a chance to blink. The mul crushed Kep to his chest with a muscled arm around his neck.

  Kep thrashed; his face darkened. After a moment, he passed out. Phytos held him a second longer then released him.

  “What the hells, Alaeda?” asked Melech.

  “Don’t get soft, Melech. Kep was going to kill you. If not tonight, then he would sometime on the road to Tyr. We should kill him now.”

  “No,” said Melech.

  “No?” said Alaeda, incredulous. “Why not?”

  “You don’t understand Torston. He has power over us all. We take out Torston, and Kep won’t be a problem. I … we’ve been through too much to kill him.”

  Alaeda shook her head. “Fine. Whatever. Phytos, hold him as long as you can. He’s a clever rat, and I’m sure he’ll escape.”

  Phytos looked skeptical but he nodded.

  “Now about that water?”

  Melech and Alaeda, after a brief rest, ran. Even at the killing pace Alaeda set for them, they still rested every hour or so to catch their breath and drain water from the skins the mul had given them. They were free from the mountains and raced across the rocky badlands, a rubble-strewn expanse of tortured earth. They slipped through dark canyons, rounded massive boulder piles, and slid down scree spilling after them.


  They moved without caution. Alaeda felt confident nothing would trouble them so close to Tyr. There were creatures in the Ringing Mountains, but the city kept the worst away.

  An hour after sunrise, they stopped at a vineyard. They picked a few grapes from vines strung along the fences in rows. Melech grabbed his side, cramping. Alaeda felt little better. Time was their enemy. It was as dangerous as the yuan-ti they had fought days earlier.

  Melech looked up, a bead of sweat dripping from his nose. His voice was a whisper, “Let me kill the elf.”

  “Galadan,” she answered. “So that’s why you haven’t run off.”

  He nodded.

  “You should go, Melech. Tyr’s no place to be. Urik is marching but before the sorcerer-king will step foot in the city, the merchant houses will tear it apart. Even then, Kep will kill you. You are a fool to believe otherwise.”

  “I don’t care, Alaeda. I made a promise to kill the bastard, and it’s one I intend to keep.”

  “I’m not going to stop you. You’d be doing me a favor. What, though, did he do to you?”

  “It wasn’t me. It was a friend. He wasn’t even any worse than the other slavers, but I remember him. I remember how he treated her. He’s going to die, Alaeda. I promise.”

  Alaeda had no idea what he was talking about. She decided it best not to press the issue.

  “What about you?” he asked. “You could leave. You should leave. This isn’t your fight,” said Melech. “Hells, your house isn’t even involved anymore.”

  “Obligation,” said Alaeda. “Vordon is corrupt and wicked. They’re not all bad, though. Talara Vordon. She’s what’s bringing me back to the city.”

  “And your house’s interests?” asked Melech.