“I know!”
She slammed a hand on the throne. “Silence.” The word held a spell, and I went quiet. “Half of the quest is done. Ban’s and Stheno’s troops nearly stopped us, but not quite. Shannon, Ulrich dear, thought it best you shouldn’t know the truth, because there was no point, because of the dragon. Now stop complaining. It’s done. Now we shall deal with the other half of the war.”
“They said,” I hissed, nearly unable to speak, “everything’s as it should be. I’m not happy. Itax—”
She pointed at the door, where I saw the svartalf bowing. He gave me a weak grin.
“He is here to help us,” she said with a bored voice. “Stop making a scene. You will be needed now, more than ever.”
“And will you tell me what will happen?” I asked her bitterly.
“You will have to kill again,” she grinned. “As you have.”
“And the Scepter?” I asked, feeling such rage I had never felt before. “The Horn?”
“We’ll take them,” Cosia agreed and leaned forward. “But first, you will have to kill. Will you keep your bargain?”
“Yes, for now,” I said, not sure I would, but I’d be a fool to tell her. “How will I get in?” I asked her. I looked at Kiera and Thak. “How will we get in?”
I felt a hand slap across my mouth. Itax smiled over my shoulder and I fell into darkness. I heard Cosia speak. “Only one way in. Just one. Through the Chain Tents. That’s the only way you get in to Scardark. As a fighting slave. Fight well, and don’t give up hope.”
BOOK 4: SCARDARK
“Remember what she was, not what she is now. Oath is above all else. Even personal unhappiness.”
Thak to Ulrich
CHAPTER 12
The ship was surprisingly quiet. There were dull thuds, and a steady splash of oars, though I could see nothing of what was happening above deck. I was crammed inside a cell, and there was—again—a long chain around my wrists. The chain stretched through the bars and was probably attached to the other chains that hung from the many other cells in sight. Most of the cells were filled with svartalfs. They were in three layers and I heard movement above. Chains rattled left and right and the jingle made my head ache. At some point, the ship rocked for a long time, navigating some underground part of the river, and the jingling racket grew in volume. Apparently we had entered a hazardous part of the river. Every so often I heard warning shouts and there were moments when the ship shuddered as its hull scraped the bottom. On one occasion the ship actually got stuck on rocks. The bottom scraped on stone with a metallic screech, until the oars eventually pulled us out.
I rubbed my face, trying to think.
They were sending us inside Scardark as Pit Fighters. As fighting slaves. The only way in, Cosia had said. Had they lied to me in Himingborg?
Yes. They had a plan, it had to be kept safe and I had no defenses against the dragon. More, they knew I would have been disgusted by the murder of Eris. To murder a fine Queen for Cosia was a filthy act. Shannon had made a deal with her enemy, and I had sealed it. I felt bile rising in my throat, then anger and I banged at the bars. Yes, they lied to me. They misled me, at the very least. That bastard Itax, Shannon as well, had deceived me. Thak, and Kiera as well. “All they see is the surprise I can serve their enemies. They do not see a friend,” I muttered to myself.
Eris. She had just … died.
I cursed softly. I’d murdered her. And still they wouldn’t tell me what was to take place in Scardark? How would we escape before I was thrown into the Pit—whatever it was—and how would we find a way to snatch the Scepter?
I rubbed my hands across my legs, and winced with the pain in my chest. I felt blood dripping inside my armor and tunic, wetting it, and cursed that as well. They had dressed me in my fabulous new armor. There was no sword, though.
A shadow moved and a svartalf kneeled before me.
He squinted, trying to fathom if I was awake, and satisfied with the discovery that I was, he walked off, laughing with someone I didn’t see.
I groaned, and held my head, and found a pail of water next to my cell on the floor. I stretched my hand through the bars and brought a handful of water to my face and gulped some of it down.
Then I coughed, retched and vomited. It was rancid piss.
“Hey, don’t do that,” said someone above me, laughing. “They save it. They use it for dyes and such. Some say they use it for crafting magical artifacts. And it’s not very good, is it?”
“Woden’s ball hair,” I wept, holding my throat, gagging. “Shit.”
“Ah, don’t worry. No shit, only piss. You’ll drink something better soon,” the voice above said. “They’ll feed and water us all before the final dance. Just like prime cattle. For now, drink your tears. It’s all you get until we’re given the Black Feast.”
“Damned Black Feast,” I spat. “A last meal, right? Don’t coat it in sugar or make it sound like it’s an honor.”
“Fine,” he said, chortling. “A final bit of chow for the doomed. A meal for the dead, do you prefer that? Cheer up, friend. And it is an honor, indeed.”
I banged my fist on the ceiling. “Damn such honors. A meal for the dead, that’s what it is. And for your information, I’m not in a cheerful mood,” I growled. “I’m not looking forward to a last meal. I planned on having that far in the future.”
“Future?” he chuckled. “Your future begins just a breath from now. Don’t be a weepy boy. That will ruin it for the rest of us. Like a fart at a wedding. Try to fight with honor.”
I gazed around. “Screw your honor, again,” I muttered and drew a final chuckle from the pragmatic pit fighter on top. Where the hell are Thak and Kiera? I wondered. I wasn’t so sure I’d enjoy their company, not at all, but perhaps they could finally fill me in on what was taking place, and more, why. Shannon’s life in Aldheim was at stake, she faced a terrible foe about to crush her and it all hinged on us getting smuggled in as Pit Fighters?
“Shit, Shannon, you bitch,” I cursed. And Kiera. Kiera, whom I cared for, in some strange way, could not break her cursed connection to Hel. She wouldn’t even hint at what I was to face. Or Thak, the block of loyalty.
Why had they not told me more? Even just a bit more.
I rubbed my face. Was it my fault? Perhaps Shannon had planned to tell me more. And then I had complained I’d not kill an innocent, that I was unhappy with Hel, made demands on her and she had changed her plans.
She knew I’d have to be in the dark to serve best.
Yes, possibly.
I looked around, and across to the other shadowy prisoners. I saw feet, a hand playing with the chains. Thak could be anyone of them, if he was there at all. And he wasn’t about to show himself. So I frowned and sulked, thinking about the mess. The ship was swaying gently now, the noise of the chains less, and I could hear water trickling somewhere near. The oars were making a steady splashing noise. There were no waves, only the soothing sound of rushing and trickling water outside. Occasionally, like a distant echo, I heard people walking the deck, then some lazy shouts. Finally, I sat up with recognition. One voice was demanding something imperiously. I knew the voice.
Itax. It was Itax’s ship. The bastard was nearby.
Shannon had bought him. Was I part of the price? No, she wouldn’t go that far, I told myself, but in my gut, I wasn’t so sure. “Screw them all,” I cursed again.
“You are feeling miserable, no?” the voice above asked.
“You have a talent, my friend, for the obvious. Where are we going?” I asked and intercepted his answer. “Scardark, yes, but do you know more? This Vastness and—”
He rapped his fingers on the floor me to calm me. “Shush! Vastness, aye. The golden heart of the Below. It is our home, the Land of the Eight Cities. There we were born, there we die, and gods know where we will go after that. We will amuse the kings and queens of Scardark, make a suitable performance for the gods, the nobility of the Scardark, the kings and the queens of the mighty cit
y and the allies. We’ll make her vileness, Stheno, smile. If the battle is mighty and the fighters valiant, the gods will favor Scardark. If the battle is boring as an elder’s tale of his past, the city will lose. But I’m sure Stheno will make sure it will be interesting to the gods.”
“And will they sacrifice in Ban’s city, and the other two rebellious ones as well?” I asked. “Won’t they satisfy the gods just like Scardark does? Gods must be confused and tired after all that shit.”
“They will be confused,” he said gleefully. “But the pickings for the other cities are thin. Scardark and the Under Lord have the best access to the Dark Water, where we were put on sale. Ban might have to put orcs into the pits. A sad little sacrifice it will be, and we’ll win.”
“You will die!” I snorted. “And no god will decide an outcome of the war based on how we piss ourselves in some damned sweaty pit.”
He chuckled. “Well, sure. I see your point. But that’s the tradition. That’s how we do it. You will see. You’ll fight well, you know. No matter if we actually find the gods’ approval after the battle or not, you’ll roar and piss your pants and fight just like the rest of us. They will remember us like few others.” He chortled. “And who knows, I might live. One survives. If he doesn’t bleed out.”
I rubbed my face. “And who are you, then, cheerful one?”
“I? Szir. A citizen of Ban, servant to Giladn, and a humble servant of the—”
“The Dragon,” I said simply. “One of the fools they sent to fight in the tunnels, for reasons not known to them.”
He shifted above. “Guilty as charged. I got unlucky. The gorgons are apt at grabbing the ones who are not alert or stay behind to take a piss. Some of the boys dangling in chains,” he laughed hugely, “are from Scardark. Yet, when you enter the Chain Tents, you are no longer of something. You are a Pit Fighter. Now we are all brothers. What irony. But all the road is ironic, isn’t it? A joke to be enjoyed, no?”
“I have yet to find such a prerogative,” I sulked. “But you didn’t tell me where we shall arrive in Vastness. And how long will the trip take?”
“Not long. The Stone Run is a winding way under the rock,” he explained. “Weaves around and through long, dark tunnels, and you have to wait for the current to change at some point when another river joins it. You are a human? I saw them carrying you up. I bet you were a consort that fucked up, right? Are there such things in Aldheim? Rivers?”
“Rivers? I snorted. “Plenty of rivers. Seas. But it is different.”
“We’ll arrive in Scardark’s harbor, not too long from now. Don’t worry. You good with a weapon?” Szir asked dubiously. “Any good?”
I coughed, spitting the vile remnants of Szir’s piss from my mouth. “I was taught the sword. In fact, Cosia taught me.”
“The new Queen?” he laughed incredulously. “How—”
“Silence,” said a familiar voice.
Itax.
He leaned on the wall, staring down at me and then squatted and smiled. “Welcome to the Bone Queen.” He frowned. “Oh! You look unhappy. No, this was unintended. You hate your cabin, eh? A mistake indeed. I’ll whip the chain master.” He tugged at my chains that stretched behind him. “I told him to give you the very best cabin. It’s the cage above you. More room to stretch.”
I stared at the bastard, and tried to grab his face through the bar.
But I grasped only air.
He stood to the side. His cursed magic ring was at play. He removed it, smiled and put it back on. He’d be elsewhere again. I cursed him under my breath and calmed myself with great difficulty. “I’d eat lizard’s shit if I could get you—”
“Lizard’s shit can be arranged,” he said darkly. “You tried piss already. Don’t ask for trouble.”
“Are you going to tell me the plan?” I cursed him softly, whispering. “What will happen?”
He smiled. “Tell you the plan? I didn’t tell you the plan the first time you asked. And see how well it went, eh? Your performance was spot on.”
“You—”
His hand shot through the bars and slapped my face. “Relax. No plan for you. I doubt I want to jinx it. Let us just say that you are like a scalp in a current. Abused, discarded, forgotten, lost, you will follow the river all the way down to Scardark, and your friend Thak will join you as you march through the gates. And you won’t be alone. There are others who will help you, and trust me on this: in the end, you’ll know what to do, won’t you? You’ll know very well. You did with Eris, though I have no doubt you thought about joining her.”
“I did,” I spat. “She was wise and a true queen.”
“Unlike Shannon?” he snickered. “Don’t answer. Your friend needs you. Patience.”
“Don’t have much of that. You see, I’m dying,” I said and poked my chest. “Some curse or magic of Hel’s. Something my friends did to me.”
He nodded. “Patience might help there as well. It might get healed? I guess you know there’s a reason for that wound?”
“I’m guessing you are going to hand me the Iron Trial soon, and expect me to use it,” I said. “My blood’s been tainted, and that’s why it’s so powerful. I will have a hard fight on my hands, eh?”
“See, you don’t need the full details,” he smiled. “You are doing just fine.”
I scowled at him. “I hate you.”
“I hate you too,” he answered cheerfully as he scratched his head. “Pretty soon we shall arrive in the Vastness. We’ll dodge the chasm and the Markudin, the bridge, and then, soon, the fight takes place.”
“Are we actually going into a fight?” I asked him, incredulous. “How will we get the Scepter? How will we steal it, while there’s Pit full of people trying to kill us?”
“We’ll get what we want,” he whispered. “Stop asking. Yes, you’ll go to the Pit. And that’s when you must do your best. Follow Thak and Kiera, and things will change for all.”
“Kiera? What will they—”
“Shh,” he said annoyingly, while keeping a finger over his mouth.
“We can’t possibly get the Scepter of Night from—”
He snarled. “Follow… Thak.”
I fumed. “One day, Itax, you’ll be less smug, you liar. I’ll make you squeak. You’ll be in my hands and I’ll roast your ugly skull.”
“I’ve heard that a thousand times before,” he said with pity. “They all died. I learnt to deal with such threats early on. I remember my father and uncle sitting in the darkness, issuing orders to their assassins, and many of the victims had issued threats to them, the thieving lords. I have done the same. I can get your neck snapped before you can fart. Don’t threaten me, human. Listen.” He took a deep breath, calming himself. “You’ll get to the city. Perform the duty you promised.” He looked around and put his face into the bars. I hesitated and resisted the urge to gouge his eyes out. He’d not be there, anyway. “But after we are done with the unpleasantness in the city, you’ll be unhappy.”
“I’m unhappy now,” I growled and sensed there was more to his words than simple mockery. “Wait, what do you mean?”
He smiled and looked like a child with a secret. “I mean that you’ll be much unhappier than you are now. If you are alive, that is. That’s not assured at all. Hear me. At the end of our little scheme, you can choose to do something for yourself, for once. Do what you are asked by Shannon until—”
“I don’t know the plan—”
He rattled the bars to silence me. “And if things fall in place as we all hope they shall, then you have a chance to end all the wars. And to be rich to boot. I know,” he said with a sly smile. “You don’t care for riches, but there it is.”
“I can end the wars?”
He smiled. “You. It’s just a chance. Just the tiniest speck of hope, but in this one thing, Ulrich, I want to fix the Nine Worlds just like you do. Now, if you help your lovely Queen, you will make her proud. You will fight well and the Scepter is going to be hers. Then the Horn. B
ut let us be honest.” He leaned close. “You and I both have something in common.”
“I don’t have syphilis,” I muttered and kept a straight face as he tried to fathom what I was saying.
He poked me hard. “Stop being a mule. Listen. We both know she won’t even consider what you asked her to do. She won’t, can’t, restore the Horn to the gods. She will give it to Hel. She is Hel’s minion, and cannot refuse. Resisting Hel’s orders gets harder for her every day. And Hel, Ulrich, will destroy the Nine before handing them back to the gods. She is as mad and dead as her draugr, and she has it in her head to make us all suffer terribly. You tried to convince Shannon to take the Horn and give it to the gods instead, didn’t you?”
“You heard that?” I asked, suspicious.
He shook his head. “No, but I’m no fool. You are a bleeding heart. Shannon no longer is. Trust me, help me, and everything will change.”
“You want the Scepter, don’t you?”
He slapped the bars and whispered. “Shh! Listen, you damned fool. You have a chance. There will be a battle, as you guessed. At the end of the battle, listen to my advice, and help us. Help us, and I’ll help you and we shall both help Shannon and the Nine Worlds. She is dangerous to us all.”
I looked down. More lies, more schemes. But he was right. Shannon was Hel’s minion and Hel would make us all fry and wither before restoring the worlds. I had no idea if Shannon could defy her as she had promised to try. “What do you need help with? You have to be exact.”
He shook his head. “I cannot. I must not. I’ll not speak of it now. I’ll speak of it when it’s time to decide. Trust me,” he chortled.
Szir chuckled above and Itax frowned as he looked up.
“Nobody trusts you,” I told him. “Not even your own mother.”
He looked bothered and smiled to himself. “I know. That’s why it’s so ironic, isn’t it, when I’m being uncommonly honest. Do as you will. If you succeed, I will still benefit. I am getting a damned good deal from Shannon. I’ll expand to Aldheim. My business will thrive. I’ll take the slave trade from Dark Waters, eventually, and flood the Pits with with elves and men from the surface—”
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