Iron Clash (Legend of the Iron Flower Book 7)

by Billy Wong

  "Bashed a hole, probably, though it would have taken ages. You know, we should be thankful our fortune's been good so far. Would've expected more difficulties by now."

  "Don't jinx our luck," Finn said while they hopped their way down the stairs, each step a good three-foot drop. "Besides, we haven't even gotten underground yet—the main event's likely about to begin."

  "And to think you nag me sometimes for being too much of a pessimist."

  "There's a difference between that and being a realist."

  She sighed. "Fair enough. I can't say I'd be too surprised if we have to fight some fifty foot long monster soon enough."

  As they approached the bottom of the staircase, a vast room came into view whose ceiling tapered upwards toward the middle. Derrick spotted a gold rectangular box lying at its center, looking tiny at a distance but at least seven feet long by his estimation. Built thick and squat, it managed to convey a sense of solidity and stability even from far away. Great unlit torches circled the perimeter of the otherwise empty round chamber, and innumerable images covered the walls which Derrick figured could provide insight into the giants' society. For now, though, the golden container seemed to take priority in Rose and Finn's eyes, and Derrick followed them to inspect it.

  Already Finn started trying to pry the lid open. "Careful," Rose warned, "it could be trapped."

  "Then you do it."

  "Why?"

  "Because you can take being hit by whatever trap it is." He laughed. "Just kidding, I got it. Okay, here we go, it's opening-"

  He jumped back, and she asked worriedly, "What's wrong?"

  "Look inside! It's not too bad, but I'd kind of been hoping it was a giant treasure chest."

  Derrick peeked with her, and they saw what had surprised Finn. A desiccated human-sized corpse lay within. A sarcophagus? He would've expected an apparently revered person to rest in a more ornate coffin—even if it was colored like gold, this one didn't sport much decoration. He supposed it wasn't so strange, considering different cultures exhibited widely varying customs. A different matter confused him more. "That body sure is small, relative to everything else we've seen here."

  Rose nodded. "Looks like a human, though a pretty big one. I wonder if he was a warrior?"

  "I doubt his armor's purely ceremonial," Finn replied, "considering there's a hole over his heart."

  Derrick just now noticed that, and realized the edges of that hole looked to be partially melted. "Magical fire ray?"

  "Don't know, but it probably wasn't the first hit he took before going down. Had a nice helm, too." Its skull-faced visor was open, revealing the shriveled face.

  Derrick now looked over the rest of its black armor, still sleek after centuries of disuse. He saw as Finn had that it was full of rents and imagined the warrior's last stand covered in wounds, much as Rose had been many times though she'd survived them.

  "They gave him a beautiful tomb, but didn't even bother closing his eyes," the big woman commented. She reached her hand down towards them.

  "Maybe you shouldn't," Derrick said. "It must have been their people's way, and the way he wanted."

  She nodded and pulled back her hand. Derrick noticed her shiver slightly, but did not ask what was wrong. One bad memory or another must have been stirred up by the wide-eyed corpse, and he had no wish to upset her further by making her discuss it. Instead, he began to examine the jewelry the deceased warrior wore. His necklace bore not a gem for the pendant, but a clear glass lens, and Derrick wondered what symbolism might be attached to it.

  Rose, who had walked away from the coffin with Finn to inspect the wall paintings, called, "Hey Derrick, come take a look at this!" He joined them, and indicating one of the astonishingly detailed panels—it must have been hard painting such with giant hands—she continued, "Looks like our human friend." In the picture, a tiny trident-wielding figure wearing black armor led much larger allies against a diverse legion of monsters that looked to be drawn from every corner of hell. At the heart of that fiendish host, dominating the entire wall with a glow which seemed to reach even onto other unrelated scenes, was a man-shaped red flame.

  "He must have been quite the warrior," Finn said, "for them to follow him while being so small."

  "Size isn't everything, you know," Rose pointed out.

  "You're one to say that, being twice as big as most women your age."

  "I'm still a lot smaller than you!"

  More somberly, Derrick wondered, "Think they were all wiped out in the end by the monsters?"

  Rose shook her head. "If they were, would these paintings be here?"

  "Probably not, I guess... unless they were drawn during the war and it was lost later." Derrick's eyes wandered across the walls and took in a variety of marvels, including flying castles, underwater buildings, and bridges made apparently of air. One particular scene caught his eye, that of a female figure sitting on a far oversized, familiar throne while a hundred enormous warriors knelt around her, paying her homage. "They had a human queen, too."

  Rose looked at the image Derrick studied, then back at the battle scene, then the gold coffin. "No, not 'too.' Look closely at the scepter in her hand."

  "It's a trident," Derrick realized. "The queen was the warrior, too. So she's the one in the coffin?"

  "I think so. I assumed it to be a man because she's taller than me, and the armor hid her hips, but... And I think I have a good idea of who she is, too."

  "Who?" he asked, though the look on Finn's face told him both his friends had already figured it out.

  "Kayla—the woman whose name our kingdom bears."

  #

  "So you wish my aid in this foolish endeavor?" Prince Wilner asked his visitor, who leaned lazily on his great trident's haft as if on casual terms with the ruler of Coblan.

  Prince Victor, his brown hair and beard specked with gray though he was not old and still possessed of a robust physique, smiled with no change in his relaxed stance. "Foolish? My country is hardly at its strongest, and I have more allies than you know—including you soon enough, if you so desire. I promise it won't be a waste of your time."

  Wilner looked the once-banished prince of Kayland in the eye and frowned. "Hmph. A traitor to his own nation trying to take it over tends not to inspire confidence, and my last two attempts to make war against the land of my ancestors' enemy... did not end well." Indeed, they'd brought Coblan close to ruin, and even now it had not recovered completely. "What can you say for yourself, that the Sevrians could not?"

  "The Sevrians were strong, yes. But they had no foothold here to expand on, and were met with unified resistance. I, on the other hand..."

  Victor raised a good point. Being the powerful brother of its late king, Benedict who Wilner had personally slain, he would likely be able to rally allies from within Kayland to his cause. "And if I aid you in your little civil war, what will I get in return?"

  Grinning, Victor said, "What you always wanted from your wars against Kayland—to destroy the line of its rulers."

  "Destroy it? Aren't you as much a member of that line as anyone is?"

  "I bear you no grudge for killing one of my brothers, and the other... let's just say I didn't stop my friend from disposing of him. Do you really think I still value them as kin?"

  "You still share their blood."

  Victor shrugged. "True enough. But if anything, I declare myself the beginning of a grand new line, separate from the one whose time has ended. This line my son will continue, and his son after, will eclipse the old kings so they are forgotten in time."

  Wilner wondered what would happen when he was dead. Now in his early forties, he still had no heirs, having never found time for courtship in his decades-long quest to bring glory to Coblan. A former province of Kayland, he had made it into a strong nation in its own right and almost succeeded in conquering its motherland—until, of course, Rose Agen and her friends had ruined everything.

  The thought of allying with Victor gained appeal whi
le he considered the possibility of facing them again. It might not be so prudent to use a war as an excuse to get another shot at revenge, yet there were probably other benefits to be gained that could justify it. "But if I accept you as a break from your line, who is left in it for me to target? You and your son are the last direct descendants of Kayland's ancient royalty."

  "There's one more. Matthew, our 'future'—heh—king."

  Wilner scowled. "The boy? What do I care. He's but a child. I have no interest in killing him at this moment."

  "Who said anything about killing him? Your victory can be even more complete than that, once you take him."

  "Take him?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.

  "As your own. What better way to end the line, and establish yours' superiority, than to swallow it within your own?"

  Hmm... that would solve more than one problem, perhaps. "Interesting. But I don't expect only to get the boy in return for aiding you. That would hardly be an even trade."

  "I'll remember your help, of course. The new Kayland will stand behind Coblan in the future."

  Wilner studied Victor's eyes, his vagueness not lending itself to trust. He couldn't get a grasp on how sincere he was being, though. "That's still not enough. How about you give me a portion of the territory which I help you secure?"

  "It... doesn't sound unreasonable. The west, then? I'll grant you the western coast of Kayland, so that the long arm of your rule shall stretch three times as far as it does now. A generous offer, I believe, but I'll have enough with all the rest."

  "The whole western coast—not bad. I accept, then. Together we'll reshape the world to suit our wills, and settle the feud of our lines once and for all."

  Victor nodded contentedly. "I knew you'd see things my way in the end. I look forward to the beginning of a new era!"

  The prematurely graying warrior turned to leave, and Wilner smiled deviously at his back. He forgot too easily who his family was, and Wilner would have to remind him, when indeed the sun rose on his new era.

  #

  That went well, Clearsky said inside Victor's mind as he walked over the drawbridge out of the lair of the dark prince he'd forced himself to ally with in pursuit of the throne that was rightfully his. Now that he had gotten more used to it, the magical trident's voice sounded less androgynous and more like the frustrated whining of a prepubescent boy. But you offered him a bit much for his help, don't you think?

  Victor shrugged. "Promises are made to be broken, just like you told me. Especially when they're made to an evil man like Wilner." He might not have been completely confident in that a few months ago, but that was the beauty of Clearsky. Its words and presence ensured its master believed in what he was doing, and never strayed from the path he should know to be right. Victor had sometimes let his conscience get in his way before, and the trident was the cure for that malady—the anti-conscience against his conscience. Its voice could be annoying, but was somehow convincing anyway.

  You're learning. You know, he probably plans to betray you just as you do him.

  "Then let whoever proves the better win. But I'm not worried. I have you, the ultimate weapon, no?"

  Yes, you do.

  "And you don't plan to betray me, do you?"

  How could I? Your hand guides my stroke.

  That was true enough. "But no one guides your voice."

  Of course. If all I could say was what you thought for me to, how much less could I help you?

  "You would help me just by being the ultimate weapon."

  Clearsky sighed in his mind. There are many aspects to that. But I think the most important is the self-improvement I help you achieve; the mind behind the blade is what counts the most, after all. And with me around, your mind sees with new focus.

  "True, I suppose. Where shall we go next to find ourselves some more allies? I fear Coblan's forces and my own will not be enough to overcome those of Kayland 'proper.'"

  "They will come to us, at my calling."

  "And who are they?" Victor hardly cared, as long as they were strong and reliable.

  Or so he thought, until Clearsky's reply made him tense a little. The ancient ones who once served as my allies will serve once more, and spearhead our charge to victory as they did in another age.

  Somewhere in the back of his mind, something still called for Victor to rid himself of Clearsky, remember his self-questioning and stop blindly pursuing his goals with no consideration for consequences. But that was the weak way of thinking, which had allowed that woman to sit the throne he deserved. From now on he would not, could not, allow anything to stand in the way of him grasping what should be his.

  Chapter 2

  "So we finally have proof she wasn't just a myth," an awestruck Derrick mused while he stared at the legend's corpse. "Never thought we'd find her like this, though."

  Rose laughed. "So are you as disappointed in our trip as you thought you might be?"

  Recovering from his goggle-eyed giddiness, he gave a nonchalant shrug. "Finding a mythic hero's corpse isn't quite on par with meeting and defeating them, but as an experience I'd rate it at least average." He jested, but there was some truth behind it. Rose had fought the resurrected ancient Deathend, who'd been worshiped as a war god and battled Kayla to a fatal stalemate. Not a year later, she slew the new incarnation of the demon lord who had brought about the destruction of the Old World, ending the golden age of magic. Looking at his cheery, gentle friend now, Derrick could scarcely believe she might well be the greatest warrior in the world. But then he recalled seeing how she'd fought against all manner of opponents during their past adventures and smiled. Rose was something else when she got going.

  For his part, Finn did sound a bit disappointed as he said, "Okay, so we found a famous corpse. But I doubt we'll be taking anything from here, will we?"

  Rose shook her head. "Stealing from the dead isn't something to aspire to, and she fought bravely for our ancestors besides. But hey, we learned of a race of giants we never knew about before."

  "And, we didn't have any rough big battle this time," Derrick realized happily.

  With a giggle, Rose agreed, "Yes, and I'm glad! I've already got more than enough scars."

  They stayed a while longer, allowing Derrick to take all the notes he wanted. As they exited the ruin, he asked, "Are we going to keep searching for information about these giants? If they were so closely involved with Kayla and her battles, they must have played a greater part in our history than we knew. We still know so little about them—we haven't even seen one of their bodies, or learned much of their lives really. I feel like I want us to have a whole new set of adventures seeking knowledge again."

  "See? I told you you'd like this!" Rose beamed.

  "As for new adventures," Finn said, "maybe and maybe not. We still have the center to take care of."

  It was common enough for Rose and/or Finn to take their leave of the institution they jointly ran on some quest or another, but if all three of them disappeared for an extended period, that would certainly cause problems. "Life sure has changed, when we can barely enjoy a month away together without worrying about things back home." Right now, he felt just a bit envious of his friends. Reasons to take a break from their mundane lives came readily to great heroes such as them—not like Derrick, whose strength had always been in his mind and not his arms.

  The offer Rose made shortly negated any jealousy he felt. "You know, only one of us has to be at the center to keep things going smoothly, even though it'd be hard. I would stay so you and Finn could have some boys' time out together."

  "And I'd stay so you and Rose can go," Finn added, "if you prefer. You just better not seduce her while I'm not around." He and Rose both laughed.

  Derrick hugged them. "My selfish desires probably shouldn't be so important as to split you two apart. Besides, we should all go together, for old times' sake. If the staff have been able to handle running the center without us so far, a longer test might not be inappropriate
."

  "Maybe," Rose said. "We'll have to think about it."

  "By the way, have you considered doing something about Prince Victor anytime soon?" Though the scheming prince had supposedly left at the Regentess Sierra's order, rumor had him recently visiting potential allies all over the continent. Derrick imagined his purposes could only be harmful towards the tentative peace Kayland had settled into following all the troubles of the last few years.

  Finn smacked a fist loudly into his palm. "I'd like to go kill him, but Rose won't let me."

  She smiled. "I just want to make sure he's really up to something before jumping into action. I mean, even if Prince Lawrence did die suspiciously, if we murder an innocent man... Besides, we don't even know where Victor is right now."

  "Of course he's up to something. Hasn't he proven himself conniving enough times already?"

  "Yeah, but he did show some morals in not having King Matthew killed. Maybe his conscience will win out in the end."

  Her husband scoffed. "You're too soft, love. If you let me have my way, we'd have a lot less trouble with the ones we let go."

  "Maybe, but what if by giving people chances to change, we spare someone who goes on to do great good in the world? Won't it have been worth it then?"

  "Depends on how much damage the ones who won't change end up doing."

  Though he found the debate quite interesting, Derrick couldn't decide which side he favored. Finn's support of deterring future evils by killing their likely perpetrators did hold merit, considering how many villains they'd fought never reformed and came back to haunt them again. On the other hand, how could one really judge when a person was beyond redemption? He did think of something to add.

  "We should also remember few people actually believe what they're doing is truly wrong. So even if someone does decide they want to become better, that won't necessarily mean what they'd consider better is the same as what we would."