Beyond the Hell Cliffs

by Case C. Capehart

  Raegith’s deeds during the last Gulag made him infamous among the inmates, male and female alike. Several of the girls who scored dresses from him that day made offers of payments of food and favors of every nature. He took them up on their offers. The men were not as inviting of his new fame. Some men offered up trophies for unofficial bouts in between Gulags and others maliciously offered to beat him without mercy. He took them all up on their offers.

  Every day Raegith found himself in some sort of brawl, be it a small scuffle in the meal line or a pitched battle in the yard. He was a major target and men came at him everywhere and at all times, though much less frequently during the times he was with Helkree or Torga. As the madness went on, Raegith also won over allies. His gallant nature made him especially protective of the females inside the Pit. When Raegith called out a Lokai who was particularly sadistic in his treatment of his women and then proceeded to humiliate him in front of the entire yard, he won over half of the female population.

  Suddenly women were rebelling against their owners and bosses inside the Pit and running to Raegith when they were punished. At his third Gulag, Raegith had two dozen women openly cheering for him through two victories and one loss. On his fourth Gulag, half of the prison stormed the mound when the guards threatened to send him to the dungeon for not finishing his first opponent. The guards could no longer detain him without the entire female staff going on strike and dozens of male fighters rioting. Raegith’s anti-authority attitude began spreading among the inmates and it got to the point where the guards were bribing him to help keep order in the Pit.

  He and Torga went on to defend the mound against six opponents in the last Gulag, barely squeezing out the win to a belligerent crowd. Like the second Gulag, the match ended with Torga and Raegith beating each other senseless and then refusing to claim the win. Captain Gomar could only stand on the deck of the stage and grudgingly announce a draw to a frenzied crowd.

  During the interim between the fifth Gulag and the departure of the men for conscription, Raegith had two-thirds of the female population as willing members of his harem and all but a handful of inmates on good terms with him. His wit and charm disarmed his enemies and disputes that could not be settled on the mound were settled over mugs of smuggled grog. He picked his opponents up after their fights and even when he was defeated in combat, he was gracious to those who fought honorably and ruthless to those who did not. Though he was still an inferior fighter, his fame surpassed that of Torga and the champion of the Mound became one of his closest companions. Through it all, Helkree watched over him and managed the throngs of women trying to curry favor with him. Several times she had to violently end scuffles and arguments over Raegith.

  When he was not fighting in the yard or recovering from fights, Raegith was meditating with Noriko and learning to control his pain and fear. His breathing techniques became more refined, but his focus would not hold for very long. He would start strong with his training, but his thoughts would soon begin to drift to combat and strategy or the girls he was planning on having that night. Sometimes he would even let those ideas drift to his mentor while they meditated.

  “Raegith, you won’t find anymore focus scooting up behind me like that,” Noriko said, opening one eye to turn and look at Raegith sitting right behind her. His arms wrapped around her waist and his chin rested on her shoulder.

  “Maybe we try a new kind of technique,” he whispered into her ear. “We can still focus on our breathing and I promise I will devote all of my focus to it.”

  “If it were my body that you truly wanted, then you would have taken that opportunity when it was presented to you. That window is no longer open with our deal.”

  “Maybe I want to open up a new deal,” he said, running his hands up under her tunic.

  She stopped him and pushed away. “You are letting your body control your mind, when it should be the other way around, Raegith.”

  “Come on, Noriko, aren’t you a little curious? We spend so much time together. You get me all to yourself more than any other girl here…”

  “I am not trying to be any other girl here, Raegith of the Grass-hair!” she replied, angrily. “Yes, the flesh is weak and I do feel a strong connection to you, but I am your instructor in the ways of the Path and my duty to the Path and to your education is stronger than any of the more primitive desires lurking within me. If you care for this instruction; if you care for me as your teacher, then you will stop trying to tempt me and focus.”

  “This really pisses you off when I do this, huh?” Raegith asked.

  “Yes, it pisses me off.”

  “Very well, Noriko,” he replied, apologetically. “I will focus more on my training and less on your perfect ass.”

  “Raegith!” Helkree yelled, interrupting his lessons. She burst into the cell, followed closely by the half-dozen women that had become her entourage over the past few months. Helkree was not altogether pleased at the amount of attention she was getting as Raegith’s closest ally and protector, but she managed it by hazing them endlessly. As they crowded around her, she reached back and began slapping skulls to get them to back away.

  “So, this looks important.” Raegith winced against his most recent aches from fighting as rose to his feet.

  “The conscription soldiers are here. They’re taking the first round of inmates to serve in the raiding army.” Helkree steadied herself. “Torga is among them. He is being taken from his cell now. His bitches are throwing a fit.”

  Raegith left the cell and pushed past the star-struck females. Down below, in the yard, several men were being counted and lined up by soldiers. These were not like the guards. These were Rathgar in full armor, with bladed weapons on them. A few guards were assisting, but the soldiers were doing most of the accounting. One soldier wore more decorative armor than the others and seemed to be the leader.

  Raegith steadied himself, taking a slow, invigorating breath. Then he dropped over the balcony, falling two stories to land lightly on his feet and approached the Rathgar in the finer armor. Several of the soldiers stared in open-mouthed astonishment of the feat Raegith effortlessly pulled off, but the leader merely looked annoyed.

  “I know who you are, Northerner and I have no business with you,” the leader grunted, barely looking at him.

  “The last Gulag is not until another two weeks. Why is the champion being taken so soon?” Raegith asked, pushing aside the blade of a pike that was lowered at him.

  The leader turned and faced him, neither angry nor afraid of the short distance between them. “I’ve heard you’re a clever one, so I won’t waste time trying to argue with you. I’m under orders to take a third of the men out of here and place them in formations to march on Rellizbix. I have a list and Torga is on it. If you have a problem, take it up with General Greela. If you give me any problems, I’ll have you thrown in the dungeon.”

  “Maybe you haven’t heard, but threats of punishment don’t hinder me.”

  “I have heard that, actually,” the leader replied. “But I don’t care about punishing you; I care about getting these inmates out of here on time. If you in the dungeon helps me today, then so be it. Men!”

  “Wait!” Raegith yelled as the soldiers closed in on him. He turned and smiled at the leader. “You got me. It seems you’re a bit smarter than the others I’ve dealt with. I won’t bother you. Just let me speak to my friend.”

  “He’s in the line,” the leader said, pointing. “You’ve got until I finish checking off the rest of these men.”

  Raegith raced down the line of inmates. Some of them brightened as he passed them and clapped them on the arm, but most seemed resigned to their fate with quiet despair. Torga was one of the latter.

  “Ah, Grass-hair, Torga is going away. Our last Gulag was pretty good, eh?” the big champion said, seeing Raegith approach him. “Your turn to be champion now.”

  “I wanted to say goodbye to you, Torga. I also wanted to try and talk you into retreating with
the rest of your men when the time comes.”

  “Torga does not live that way, Grass-hair,” Torga said, rising up to his full height. “Maybe Grass-hair is mad because he knows Torga will slaughter many of his people in the North?”

  “I care not for the people in the North, Torga… only for my brothers in here,” Raegith replied. “If I could, I would avenge myself on the entire kingdom of Rellizbix for what they have done to us.”

  “Grass-hair speaks as if he were Greimere,” Torga laughed.

  “I am Greimere,” Raegith said. He looked around and saw that several of the soldiers and inmates had heard him. His words were being passed down the line and even more were looking up the line to him. Raegith backed up so that more of the men could hear him. “I am Greimere! We are all Greimere!”

  The line of men began shouting and the women along the balconies joined in. They were throwing their fists into the air and chanting “Grass-hair” over and over. The soldiers and guards began to look unsettled, as if the men might turn on them at any moment, but the leader just held his hand up for the men to steady and hold position.

  “That Northerner…” the leader said to his attendant. “He really knows how to rally these fools, doesn’t he? All this because he’s a good fighter?”

  “No, not because of that.” Ganzorg stood in the line just in front of where the leader stood. The Rathgar turned to face the soldier he was addressing. “He has come from the North, forsaken by his own, for his madness was too much to contain there. But here, in this hell, he is right at home and he knows no fear. He does not kneel to a banner, nor to a raised fist; he laughs at those things and he laughs at Death. He defeats his enemies and turns them to allies. That is why we cheer him. Grass-hair!”

  Torga and Raegith said goodbye to each other and Raegith stood beside the entrance to the yard, watching as each man filed past him. He met their eyes and returned salutes. Even some of the soldiers stared after him in amazement. Once they were gone, Raegith returned to his cell. Helkree and her group of “sisters” had to hold back a wave of females wanting to speak with him over their situations. Now that a third of the men were gone, there were a lot of women who were used to certain treatment and were now without masters. Fights broke out over belongings and hierarchies and Raegith knew he would have to be the one to restore order, but he put it off. His mind was too busy with what had just happened.

  I am Greimere. Raegith thought on the words he had yelled to the men leaving for war. He had not intended to say those words or even anything like them. He had considered himself a man without a home for months; long enough for him to believe it. Then he watched his friend and other men that he had fought hard to win over as they all marched off to their doom. None of them had any reason to fight his people or any idea why they needed to fight. None in the entire prison knew the real reason that they marched on Rellizbix. Maybe it was better that they remain ignorant, but something in Raegith could barely contain his rage when he watched them all leave. He was one of them now, as he felt the same pain in seeing Torga march off to his end as he felt with Boram’s death.

  Through blood and broken bones, he had carved a place inside the Pit for himself, just as the Empress had proclaimed to him the night he arrived in her palace. She had told him later that she had spared him and put him in the Pit to make him one with her Empire. Now he could not deny the success of that act. Despite the grueling nature of his stay in the Greimere and the constant beatings he traded in, he had found his true home among the people.

  Raegith shook his head and sighed. He felt bothered by what he was feeling after the men had departed and left him with his newfound revelation. There was only one way for him to shake those emotions from his mind in the Pit. He rose off of his bed and walked out onto the balcony. Helkree was standing not too far from his cell, watching the madness below. She barely glanced at him as he approached her.

  “That was a ridiculous thing you just did,” she said. “You’ve got everyone thinking that you think you’re a Rathgar or something. I never thought I would see the day an entire legion chanted the name of a Northerner with something other than hate. What are you going to do when everyone is gone but us two and a few dozen murderous women ready to kill each other to get in your pants?”

  “We’ll get out of here, Helkree. Maybe we can find something else to do, here in the Greimere.”

  “You see us getting out of the Pit… and you want to stay here in the Greimere?” Helkree turned towards him and leaned back against the railing. “You really do think you’re one of us.”

  “Right now I’m more Greimere than anything else,” Raegith replied. He looked up through the overhead opening, up to the sky. “Noriko says that there is a place out there, much further south, where her people study and thrive. She said they accept all there.”

  “Yeah, that sounds like a fun bedtime story, but I doubt it exists. The Junies are an odd bunch and wherever they come from, it’s no place for warriors like us.”

  “Well what would you like to do once we’re free, then?” Raegith asked, frowning at her.

  “What would I like to do?” Helkree leaned forward towards him. “I would very much like to ride into the North; right up to your biggest palace. We’d walk right up to the men who sent you here to die and we would both split their fucking heads open with an axe! We’d end this whole fucking charade with one blow and then take all of the land as our home and all of the people as our slaves.”

  “I’d like that idea better if there were not several hundred thousand armed men between us and my father. Also, I doubt you’d get very far into my homeland before someone tried to gut you.”

  “Let them try! Fuck them!” Helkree laughed. “I would die happy at the end of a spike just to see the look of those bastards as we charge right up their asses, claws bared, with no other intent than to burn everything before us! Give me some more time with my Helcats and we can bring them along, tearing even more shit up!”

  “Helcats? You’re getting more used to having acolytes, I see,” Raegith laughed. “And you said you weren’t very popular.”

  “It’s not me they’re after. They follow me because I follow you.” Helkree looked to the left, where a few yards down three girls with similar tattoos on their shoulders had the entire hall sectioned off. “They’re determined little shits, I’ll give them that much. They’re willing to do anything I ask of them in order to be part of you. There are six of them after I weeded out all of the weaklings.”

  “Weeded out?” Raegith asked.

  “I put them all through hell to see which ones were really committed,” Helkree replied, smiling. “Any who were opposed to fighting, any who couldn’t follow orders and any who quit; I cast them all out and these six are who I have left. Three Lokai, two Rathgar and a tenacious Urufen girl, all of whom are dedicated to you and what you stand for in here. They’re not just in it for a chance to spend an evening in your bed.”

  “But they are in it for a chance to spend an evening in my bed, to a degree, right?” Raegith asked.

  “Of course.”

  “Can you spare one or two of them, then?” Raegith had that sly look on his face that he got when he wanted something, but did not want to ask for outright. “Whichever two you want to reward for anything.”

  Helkree rolled her eyes and called out to one of the Rathgar women and then one of the Lokai.

  “No, not her,” Raegith said, nodding toward the Lokai girl. “I’ve been with enough Lokai lately. They’re starting to lose their appeal. How about the Urufen girl?”

  “I’m running a combat squad here, Raegith, not an escort service!” Helkree growled.

  “Come on! I just need some company. Maybe a little massage,” Raegith teased.

  “Yeah, I know what you’re wanting massaged.” Helkree waved the Lokai girl off and turned down the other side of the balcony, yelling down the other hall. “Fenra! Get over here, now!”

  Raegith watched as an Urufen girl with spi
key red hair and an athletic build sprinted up the hallway to Helkree’s side. It took only seconds for the young Urufen. Like most of her kind, she was extremely fast at running. She stopped before Helkree and then turned to look up at Raegith. A bruise around her right eye clashed with her freckled face and Raegith recognized her as the one who saluted him many months ago from where she cleaned the arena.

  “Fenra, is it?” Raegith asked. She nodded. “You’ll do nicely.”

  Chapter 22

  Against the backdrop of the Thromdelion, the annual celebration of the founding of Thromdale, King Helfrick sat at the head of his banquet table as the various leaders of Rellizbix carried on. The Gathering of Minds always coincided with the Thromdelion as most Chiefs, Councilors and Dukes, cousins and confidants were in Thromdale for the celebrations. It was the most convenient opportunity for all of the matters of business and grievances to be discussed in front of the King and this year seemed little different than others, at least to the visitors. However, King Helfrick was distracted and had only few words for his guests. His mind was heavy with some other worry and it was beginning to agitate the other leaders who could get no answer to why Helfrick was not involved in the discussions as he usually was.

  For Helfrick, there was only one thing he could think of and his mind would not break from it for any other matter. It had been over a year now since he had returned from Forster’s Keep and sent Raegith to the Greimere Empire as an ambassador. Once before he had sent ambassadors to his enemy and twice he had seen it done in his lifetime. It was a matter that took only months to complete. Something had gone wrong. He had given orders to Hemmil, Pyrrhus and Ebriz to get word sent back to him if there were any problems or if the mission had been compromised in any way. Even if they had been picked up by one of the regiments on patrol, surely he would have heard something of it by now. A small group of traitors shipping valuables to the enemy was news no one would want to hide from the King. Something must have happened after they passed the Hell Cliffs.