by Eric Ugland
Now I wanted to know what Nikolai and Cleeve were up to.
“You know what they’re talking about?” I asked Lee.
The elf shrugged. “I’d only be guessing.”
“Guess away.”
“Something to do with Cleeve and the people out to get him.”
“Seems to be a long list.”
“I’d imagine you know more about than me.”
I was just about to tell Lee about the whole Imperial connection, but I stopped. Cleeve and Nikolai had known Lee longer than I had, and if there was something they’d neglected to tell him, there was probably a reason. Maybe they knew something I didn’t.
“I think he got mixed up in court politics,” I said.
“Can’t imagine anyone in the upper reaches are excited there’s a new duke running around. That makes you a target too. Kill the both of you, and the dukedom is up for grabs.”
“I figured I’m a target already,” I said, feeling a little better. Lee knew about the dukedom.
“You ever imagine this sort of life?” Lee asked.
“You mean back home?”
“Yeah. In what, Detroit?”
“That’s where I was when I left, yeah. But it’s not, like, so different than the life I was living. Too much fighting, too many life or death situations, and more politics than I ever wanted to be involved in.”
“What kind of Detroit were you in?”
“At the end, I wasn’t in any kind of Detroit. That’s just where I came from. And even that’s more of a, well, just a thing you say.”
“Oh?”
“I was raised in the burbs. They’re, like, pretty nice. Even went to this choice private school. But books and I didn’t get long very well. School and I didn’t either. Finished up with school, took the money my parents had saved for college, and moved to Philadelphia. A whole bunch of bad decisions later, I wound up as part of a motorcycle club—”
“A gang?” Lee asked.
“What’s a motorcycle?” Ragnar asked.
“It’s a bit like a horse,” I said. “And we prefer the term club, but we engaged in plenty of, uh—”
“Crime?” Lee asked.
“Illicit activities.”
“You were bandits?” Ragnar asked.
“We didn't exactly steal stuff. We ran guns — uh, weapons — and drugs. We were on the border with Canada, did a fair amount of business moving stuff from one side of the border to the other. And there was loan sharking. But I didn’t steal things.”
“Ah,” Lee said.
Immediately, I regretted telling him about my past. It sounded pretty terrible. It was pretty terrible.
“I was a pretty garbage person,” I said. “Kind of hated myself for it.”
“How’d you end up here then?”
“I got more attention on me than the club liked, so I joined up with a circus for a while to get out of town with a good excuse. Fell in love on the tour, brought the girl home. Her family wasn’t super keen on me. She, well, shit, tough to talk about this.”
“You don’t have to,” Lee said.
“But—” Ragnar started, but a swift smack upside the head from Skeld shut him up.
“I think I should. She died. They called it suicide. I suspected the parents were too hard on her — she couldn’t choose between her family and me, or something along those lines. Her parents decided I’d somehow killed her, and they had money and connections. It didn’t take long before those connections were bringing Federal heat down on me and the club.
“Of course, the club didn’t like the heat. They decided it’d be better if I got out of the way. They let a rival group know I was free game. I got into a few bad fights, and then the rival club sent a bunch of men over to my house to kill me, and my last friend gave me a ticket here. That’s the quick and dirty version, I guess.”
Silence in the room. I wished I’d just shut up about myself.
“What’s your story?” I said, desperate for someone else to talk about something.
“Long and boring,” Lee said.
“Well, I’ve let myself sound like an asshole long enough. Might as well entertain us with a boring story.”
Lee gave the smallest of smiles, and hopped up so he was sitting on the desk, leaning against the wall of the room.
“I was in the Air Force. Army Air Force originally. Started near the tail end of World War 2, flew a few combat missions before the surrender, and then I turned into a glorified delivery boy all around Europe.”
“You’re shitting me?”
“Not in the slightest.”
“I wouldn’t have guessed you’re old enough to be in World War 2.”
“I aged well,” he said. “Anyway, I got out, went to college, studied engineering, met a girl. But then I got pulled into Korea. She waited for me, and we got married when I returned stateside. Korea ended and I got a job engineering air conditioners and heaters. HVAC. Then I lucked out and got a job with a defense contractor. Well, it was an odd deal where I was an officer with the Air Force assigned to work with the contractor. So there I was, wearing a uniform to work every day around a bunch of men in shirt sleeves, building missiles of every size and shape. Always trying to deliver bigger booms farther away. Vietnam started. And they asked me to fly again—”
“You flew in three wars?”
“It’s not quite what you think. I flew a bomber against Japan, flew in-country cargo in Korea, and flew back and forth across the Pacific in Vietnam. Mainly, I was just delivering packages from one country to another.”
“What about the girl?”
Lee smiled, and looked up at the ceiling. “Storybook romance.”
“You guys stayed married?”
“Till death did us part,” he said. “Had kids, grandkids. She died a few years ago, told me she’d wait for me again. That I needed to have plenty of adventures to tell her about when I got home again. So that’s what I’m doing here, having adventures.”
“She’s not going to believe this.”
“Not sure I believe this.”
“You were a grandpa. That’s awesome.”
His smile grew a little larger as he looked out the window. “I miss those kids, but they all had lives of their own. Kept feeling like I was more of a burden than anything else. And here, well, here I’m young again. No back pain. No pacemaker. No indigestion when I eat a steak. Couldn’t pass this chance up.”
“I get it,” I said, thinking about my body back on earth versus the beefcake I’d become here.
“What is a rocket?” Ragnar asked.
“It is like an arrow,” Lee replied slowly, clearly needing a moment to finalize his metaphor, “except it is propelled by a continuous explosion.”
“Magic?”
“Physics and chemistry.”
“I have not heard of those schools of magic. Perhaps I have skills in them.”
“You have no magic,” Skeld said.
“Always holding that over me,” Ragnar snapped back. “Just because you can do some minor magic and I cannot—”
“Wait,” I said, interrupting Ragnar, “You can do magic?”
Skeld nodded.
“I didn’t know that! Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You can look at my character sheet, can you not?”
“I, uh, maybe.”
“We see yours,” Skeld said. “It is because we are a hirð.”
I looked over at Lee. “You ever feel like you just don’t know a damn thing about this stupid game?”
“Every minute of every day.”
A loud crash came from outside, in the hallway.
Both Lutra were immediately on their feet. They grabbed their spears out of the corner of the room. Lee seemed like he was about to hide under the bed.
Me, I just burst through the door.
Chapter 95
The hall was full of armored men and women, all waiting to get into Cleeve’s room.
“Wait in your room, citizen,” o
ne of the men said to me with a gnarly sneer.
“Uh, I’ll pass, thanks,” I said. “I’ve got things to do, and you’re directly in my way.”
The man nearest shoved me. Or at least tried to — I didn’t move. I growled at the man, then head-butted him.
All eyes turned to me. Whispers spread through the group as they tried to figure out what to do with this weirdo who just assaulted one of their comrades, but was definitely not on the “to-fuck-up” list for the day.
“You will pay for that,” my victim said, his voice breaking a little. He had both hands around his nose and tears leaked from his eyes. Tough to look intimidating while you’re crying.
“Then add this to my tab,” I said, and popped him in the kisser.
Now I was still a total novice when it came to weapon-based fighting, but one thing I can bring to bear is fighting out-numbered in cramped conditions. This was Bouncing 101: hit fast, fight dirty, use the environment.
I jabbed my right fist out hard, connecting with another head. Because these idiots were so tightly packed, it had a ripple effect. All of a sudden, I had a moment of reprieve as the four dudes to my right were fighting a sudden headache.
My initial victim’s nose bled in a torrent. He tried to move away from me, no longer interested in a fight.
But I still was.
I stomped on his insole, and he instinctively picked his foot up, trying to grab at it. I gave the man a hearty shove, and got a perfect barricade going on the left as he crashed into his neighbors. Now, I had a half a second to figure out what the fuck was going on.
The hallway was small by my old standards, maybe three feet across at most. It was high, though. Like all the architecture I’d seen in Osterstadt, the ceilings were impressively tall, 12 or 14 feet. My room was left of Cleeve’s, and Cleeve’s was one away from the main stairwell. I could see there were more soldiers there. I wanted to get to Cleeve’s room, hopefully cut off the men coming up the stairs. All told, I had four to my right, six to my left, and at least three that I could see on the stairs.
I dropped my shoulder and charged. A dude with curly hair tried to take the hit, but when my shoulder met his, there was a sickening crunch as his gave way. He dropped to the floor with a cry.
Man number two tried to step out of the way, but he got caught in the feet of the man behind him, and I just ran them over.
Three down.
Four had a truncheon out, and he swung at my head.
A little duck let the truncheon sail by, leaving poor Four wide open. I lowered a bit more and picked the man up. I clipped him all the way over me, and heard him slam into the pile behind me.
Five had a dagger out, and I slid to a stop. If I plowed into the man, the dagger would bury itself deep in my gut.
With a ‘hey-ya,’ Five lunged at me.
I grabbed his wrist with both of my hands and brought it down on my knee.
He screamed. I think, mostly, because he saw his bones come out. But bonus, he dropped the dagger.
Six saw what happened to Five, gagged, and took a step back.
I chose to give Six the ol’ what-for, and kicked him straight in the nuts.
He threw up. Eyes back in the head, he toppled over backwards, and slumped against the railing.
A stillness came over the hall as my opponents tried to strategize. Seven men were down in some capacity, four were fine. My hirðmen finally came out with their spears. Clearly our opponents were very much cowards who seemed to think numbers were the only way to victory. There were more men on the stairs, and they all looked at me with a mixture of fear and anger.
Swords came out then. It was going to get a lot bloodier. Which is when I realized it would have been a much smarter idea to grab a weapon prior to leaving my room.
With a deep breath and a modicum of courage, the first man on the stairs thrust his sword at me.
I dodged to the side, the sword slicing a bit of my shirt off. I gave the man a hearty shove. He caught the railing with his hip and went ass over tea kettle, falling down the stairwell until he hit a landing with a solid thunk. Splinters of wood flew out around him.
Second Stair Man was already coming at me, and Third was doing his best to stab around his mate.
I got my forearm up, and the first thrust sliced through a bit of my arm, but also went into the wooden wall behind me. I sucked my butt in and out of the way of the next thrust, which put me in a perfect position to kick back, horse style, and catch Third’s arm. He spun and stumbled.
Second busied himself trying to free his blade, not paying enough attention to me. I popped him straight in the side of the head, and he dropped like a rock.
I stomped on Third’s arm, and it squished. The man screamed in pain.
Once again, there was stillness.
Behind me, in Cleeve’s room, I heard talking.
Below me, on the stairwell, the gathered men moved to the side as someone more important than them came up. I could tell he was important because he had a cape and a fancy helm.
He stopped several steps down, eyeing the mess I’d made of his men.
“I believe there may have been a misunderstanding,” Cape said.
“Oh?” I asked, feigning politeness.
“We are here to arrest someone.”
“Is that the case?”
“It is, and I fear my men have been overzealous in their, shall we say, defense of their cause. Have they offended you?”
“You could say that.”
“May I ask if there is a way we might rectify the problem without further violence?”
“Well,” I started, drawing it out, “I suppose, if you leave, and come back at a different time…”
The man smiled. “I cannot do that until my orders have been carried out.”
“And what are those orders?”
“As I told you, I am here to arrest a man.”
“Awful lot of you for just one man.”
“He is very dangerous. We did not want to take any chances an innocent bystander might get injured in the fracas.”
“Is he, perhaps, Benedict Coggeshall?”
Cape bristled. He must’ve been operating under the idea I was just a random dude itching for a fight.
“I think now might a good time for me to tell you that Benedict Coggeshall is my father. I don’t take kindly to you calling him dangerous. Or arresting him.”’
“Coggeshall has no children,” the Cape sneered at me. “You are a liar and—”
“Dude,” I said, holding up a hand, “I could disrobe and show you the family indicium, but that’d mean getting half-naked right here, and taking my armor off right now just doesn’t seem like the best of ideas. So how about we agree to believe me for the moment, okay?”
“If that is how you wish to be known, then that is your prerogative. I am afraid I will have to arrest you in addition.”
“You and what army?”
“What do you mean ‘what army?’”
“I mean, your men haven’t exactly been kicking ass and taking names so much as eating shit and embarrassing themselves. So if you want to arrest me, where’s the army that’s going to actually get the job done?”
He reached for his sword, starting to draw it from its scabbard.
I didn’t like where this was headed.
So I kicked him in the chest, Sparta-style. He flew straight back, hitting the wall at the far edge of the stairwell before dropping to the landing like a rag doll. I’ll say this for him: his cape fluttered nicely all the way down.
A loud bell rang somewhere outside. It was deep and loud and profoundly resonant. It rang again.
All the soldiers looked at each other.
Third bell.
Cleeve’s door opened, and another caped man walked out.
Cape Two paused, confused at what he saw. Then he barked out, “You hear the bell, you move to your positions!”
Cleeve stepped out of the room, and the new caped man turned towards him.
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“This is not over, Coggeshall,” Cape Two said, sneering the same way Cape One had.
“I will be defending the city as well, Godfrey Duhamel,” Cleeve said, his voice calm and collected.
Cape Two whirled around and marched down the stairs. The soldiers gathered up their wounded comrades and followed their leaders out of the hotel.
The bell continued ringing in the background.
“Get armed and armored,” Cleeve said. “It is time for you to see the Sea.”
Chapter 96
As soon as we stepped through the doors of the inn, I could tell things were different in the city. Something bad was going down. Mainly, it was the screaming coming from people nearer the sea, but also, anyone who looked like they had something to do with fighting was heading straight for the sea. A giant group of Legionnaires marched in quickstep down the road, their heavy armor jangling and their spears held high.
“What the hell is going on here?” I asked Cleeve.
“The city calls for defense,” he replied.
“Yeah, got that part. From what?”
“Whatever has decided to crawl forth from the Emerald Sea today.”
It was only a few blocks to the sea. But just when I thought I’d finally get to see the damn thing, there was a giant wall in the way. A seawall I suppose. All the armed men and women headed up the stairs. Though there were all sorts of different uniforms and tabards, everyone seemed to be of a singular purpose.
I was the first of our group up the stairs. Up top I found a wide wall, something like fifty yards wide. Beyond it, I saw something truly magnificent.
