LEGENDS: Fifteen Tales of Sword and Sorcery

by Colt, K. J.

  “…and then the elf asked me about someone called Contremulus. I wasn’t sure what—”

  “The Sunscale is here?” Tzala nearly spat out her meat.

  “I don’t know,” I answered, frowning at her. “Tzala, what’s going on? What do you know of this Contremulus?”

  She stared at me, not saying anything for a time. When she spoke her words were carefully chosen. “Nothing but the name.”

  I wasn’t sure I believed her, but I had never doubted Tzala before. “Well, I don’t know either, but he is now far behind us.”

  Tzala looked away, staring down the tunnel where I had come. “Of course he is.”

  Khavi returned to me then, his chest freshly bandaged. “Praxa says that it is not as bad as we had thought,” he said, “but I will need to keep it clean and bathe it in alcohol to fight further infection.”

  I was glad to hear that. “Tzala, I will speak to you later, if you wish?”

  She dismissed me with a bow of her head. I stood and walked away with Khavi.

  “We are not far from Ssarsdale,” he said, “according to the healer. Half a day’s journey.”

  That would agree with my reckoning. “I remember that Tyermumtican’s map showed Ssarsdale being close to the surface. We can’t be far away.”

  Khavi looked over the other kobolds, his nose wrinkling in disgust. “We should leave this pack of starving cripples.”

  “Khavi!”

  “It’s true! They are a burden to us.”

  There was no way we were doing that. “What about our duty to the community?”

  “Our duty extends only to those who can participate. Tzala’s crippled. Many others are weak. The humans are following our trail. We don’t know how far behind they are, but they may catch us before we get to Ssarsdale. If they do they’ll butcher us all. We’re strong enough to make the journey ourselves. We should take anyone who isn’t just a waste of food and supplies and leave the others to slow the humans down.”

  “No. I didn’t abandon you when you needed me, and if I recall correctly, you took quite the risk to save me from the human village.”

  Khavi just threw his hands up. “Fine, condemn us to death, but technically you’re not in charge anymore. Tzala is a leader. She commands me now.”

  “Tzala will want to take all of us.” I was certain of this.

  “Bah, is everyone here soft shelled?”

  “We’re saving everyone. Get used to it.”

  Khavi gave a long exasperated sigh and turned to the rest of the kobolds preparing to pack up their camp and move on. “Compassions like this will be the end of us.” He glared at me. “Just remember what you promised,” he said, “when we get to Ssarsdale.”

  I wasn’t likely to forget.

  The survivors of Atikala must have made a depressing sight. A trail of kobolds, weary and footsore, trudging through the stone corridors of the underworld. We were beaten, homeless and short on supplies. Vagrants looking for a home amongst our cousins.

  With so many wounded, the group crawled at a slug’s pace, a chance for Khavi to heal further, and Tzala allowed me time to scout ahead for dead ends and ways we could shorten our route. I was pleased by the order. It would gave me time to think.

  Or so I thought. My mind was empty. I had not slept in a day and a half. I felt deathly tired; if I didn’t keep my focus, I would collapse in a heap. I couldn’t sleep, though. Not yet. When we reached Ssarsdale there would be a nice, cool piece of stone for me. Then I could sleep as much as I needed. Even the wellspring of magic within me seemed to be cold and quiet, hovering at a simmer.

  I didn’t find any more traps, and I managed to cut a few minutes off our journey. That was good. Given how tired I was and what I had been through, I thought this was acceptable.

  I was looking for another way down, trying to avoid an unstable passage deliberately sealed by rock when I stumbled upon the gates of Ssarsdale.

  Tall and iron, they looked exactly like those of Atikala, conjuring a million memories as I viewed them, overcome for a moment.

  It was just like home. It was home. I had made it. Ssarsdale.

  “Halt and identify yourself!” came a magically empowered voice from the doorway. I could see no speaker, but I knew of such magics from my studies. I licked my dry lips, straightened my back, and spoke at a normal speaking voice despite the distance.

  “I am Ren of Atikala, third patrol, first quarter.”

  “Welcome, Ren of Atikala. We recognise our allies, our cousins, and we welcome you. What business do you have in Ssarsdale?”

  There was some kind of finality about telling the unseen guard about what had happened. “I bring terrible news,” I said. “Atikala has been completely destroyed.”

  The speaker did not answer immediately. “Destroyed?”

  “Completely, with but a handful of survivors. They are further along the passage.”

  “How many survivors?”

  I tried to accurately recall the number from my memory. “Thirty or thereabouts. Please open the doors. We are being pursued and need sanctuary.”

  “Pursued?” asked the voice. “By whom?”

  I had a bad feeling that answering this truthfully would not be wise, but I could not lie to the city that was about to take me in. “Humans from the surface.”

  A pronounced pause. I waited, standing before the gates of Ssarsdale for a response.

  “The council of Ssarsdale will meet to decide on this matter. For now, we can grant you no access, but will permit you sanctuary outside the gates to wait for the arrival of your fellows.”

  I gave them my thanks, laid my haversack down on the ground, and curled up for a brief rest. I was asleep as soon as my head touched the stone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  MY DREAMS WERE BROKEN AND disconnected, a blend of images from my past and ones wholly imagined. It was not restful in the traditional sense; I would require much more than a quick nap to purge the exhaustion from my bones, but it helped. I was so tired that anything helped.

  The dreams ended with gentle shaking. I cracked my eyes open, seeing the underworld again. I felt only minutes had passed, and I’d only just fallen asleep.

  “Go away,” I groaned, rolling onto my side.

  “It’s just me,” said Tzala. “We’re here. We’re all here.”

  I forced my eyes fully open and sat up. All of the refugees, including Tzala and Khavi, stood around me. They looked haggard and worn, but there were smiles on every face. They knew as well as I did that we had made it.

  “What did the Ssarsdalians say?” she asked. “Will they let us inside?”

  “They said that the council would meet and decide what to do with us when the rest of you arrived.” I looked to the wide metal doors of Ssarsdale. They were still closed.

  “Well, we are here,” said Tzala. “Perhaps it is time to talk to them.”

  I bowed my head. “I will be beside you, Leader.”

  She gave a coy little smile. “I was thinking you should be the one to do it, since you have spoken to them before.”

  Uncertain of what to say, I simply nodded. “Of course, Leader, if that is your command, but why?”

  “You seem to have a rapport with them,” she said, “and besides. I have dreams for you, wyrmling. Dreams and ambitions. You were destined to be a leader. I’ll not let the loss of Atikala rob you of your destiny.”

  “But I’m only six,” I said.

  “When you become as old as I am, you will understand that age is simply a number. It does not define who you are and what you can do. You will grow into the role of Leader, as all who walk this path do. I know this.”

  I did not feel like a leader. I did not feel I would be a better speaker than Tzala could be, but I knew that I should at least try.

  “Is everyone here?” I asked.

  “Yes, my Firstclaw.”

  Standing, I shook the last of the sleepiness out of my head and addressed the closed gates of Ssarsdale.
/>   “Hail Ssarsdale, and well met. These are all the survivors who have travelled with us.”

  Silence. I waited a moment then tried again.

  “Guardians of Ssarsdale, apologies for the interruption, but as you requested, we are now all here. Have you word on the council’s decision?”

  Nothing.

  Time passed. Every so often I would try again, but I decided not to push them. Clearly they needed more time and would address me when they were ready.

  “What do you think they’re thinking?” Khavi asked me in a moment when I was aside from the others.

  My stomach hurt from lack of food. My lips were dry as sand, and my eyes stung. It was becoming more and more difficult to put aside the pain of the moment. “I have no idea.”

  “Why wouldn’t they permit us entry? It should not take this long to decide. It should not even require the council’s approval. Unless there were truly thousands, no council would be necessary to allow entry to any amount of Ssarsdale’s residents were our situations reversed.”

  “I know,” I said, “and it concerns me too.” I yawned, loudly and at length, trying to think of things other than food, water, and sleep. “But there is nothing we can do but wait. Time, the great revealer of all things, will show us what we need to know when we need to know it.”

  Almost on cue, the great iron doors of the city opened a crack. There were cries of relief, joy from the kobolds around me, and I joined in wholeheartedly. Our patience had paid off. Ssarsdale had finally chosen to talk to us. Tzala moved beside me.

  A single figure strode from the darkened slit between the doors, and they closed behind him. Twice as tall as a normal kobold, this giant of a creature lumbered towards us, a huge black blade strapped to his back. He came to us alone.

  Apart from his size he seemed normal. Scales, claws, teeth, the appearance of any other kobold, but he towered over all of us, including me. His eyes, little red slits, examined all of us with a critical air. I stepped towards the giant kobold.

  “Thank you for coming,” I said, trying to keep the fear out of my voice. “It is good to see that Ssarsdale has not forgotten their cousins in this time of great need.”

  “Indeed we have not. I am Lord Vrax, member of the Circle of Seven, the rulers of Ssarsdale. I have been sent here to relay the council’s findings regarding your appeal.”

  He was enormous, his voice deep and loud, like the sound that accompanied the electricity on the surface. I instinctively knelt before him. I heard shuffling behind me as the rest of our troupe did the same, including Tzala.

  “We are humbled by you spending your valuable time with us, Lord Vrax.”

  “Your deference is duly noted. The council has decided, in its wisdom, to grant you and the other refugees from Atikala conditional asylum in Ssarsdale.”

  Relief flooded me, and I exhaled. “You are very generous, Lord Vrax, for permitting this. We have come a long way. We are tired, pained, and hungry. We have many wounded. When our injuries are tended, and our bodies rested, we are eager to join your community and call Ssarsdale home. We have many talents to offer you, and—”

  “Such things will not be necessary,” said Vrax. His voice echoed in the wide chamber as he spoke. “Your place within Ssarsdale has already been decided. You will be all be given positions within the Ssarsdalian guard, effective immediately. You will be known as the Eighth Talon of Ssarsdale.”

  I glanced over my shoulder at our ragged band. There were a handful of warriors, but the majority of our group were caretakers. Gatherers. Librarians.

  “I do not wish to question the council’s wisdom in this matter, but—”

  “Then do not.”

  “With permission, Lord Vrax, we are not warriors—”

  “Then you are all warriors now. The entry to Ssarsdale is conditional on this acceptance.”

  An assignment to the guard would not be problematic to Khavi or me, but it would be miserable for the majority of our group. How would Tzala, with her one arm, wield a spear? What about the caretakers who had never raised a weapon in their lives?

  Some home was better than none, though. We had no choice to accept. The others would have to adapt.

  “Very well,” I said. “On behalf of the group, as its appointed representative, I accept these conditions of entry.”

  “Excellent.” Vrax gestured for us to rise. “Welcome to Ssarsdale, noble defenders. Are you prepared to accept your first orders?”

  I stood, reaching out with a hand to help Tzala stand as well, pulling her up by the stump of her arm. “Of course,” I said. “But we require rest first.”

  “There will be time enough for rest once the city is secured, and its peril ended.”

  I glanced to Tzala, but her face revealed nothing. “I am sorry, Lord Vrax, but I do not understand. What peril do you face?”

  “Not far from our gates are a group of...” he hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “Raiders. Humans coming with swords and spells and beasts to attack your city. Your home. It requires defending. The council has decreed that this assault will be met with the full might of Ssarsdale. The Eighth Talon shall march out to meet them. When our foes are vanquished, you will be given a hero’s welcome by your people, as all warriors of the city deserve.”

  They were sending us to die.

  “My Lord,” I said, “I ask you to reconsider. Our group has been marching for scores of days. We have wounded. There are only thirty of us, largely unarmed, and the humans have horses and swords and twice our number. We cannot—”

  “Soldiers of Ssarsdale do not fear death.” Vrax’s red eyes bored into me. “Sufficient courage will overcome any disadvantage.”

  “We will be slaughtered to a head.”

  It was the truth. Tzala’s magic was powerful, Khavi’s arms strong, and I had my spells, but we were in no condition to fight.

  “Then this will be your fate. But you will die happy, for you will have died for your community.” The edges of Vrax’s lips curled up in a cold smile. “You should feel glad that we are extending this offer to you in your time of desperation.”

  I felt the weight of guilt upon me. Khavi and I had set the humans on the trail of Tzala and the refugees. They were counting on me to save them. “We are desperate for a comfortable rest, food, and water, not execution!”

  “I was not aware our cousins from Atikala were so ungrateful.”

  I felt my breathing quicken and fought, with limited success, to control myself. Be smart, the leader within me implored, make the best of this.

  “I understand,” I said, “but surely a more complete victory would be more devastating to the humans. Victory is almost impossible for this group, but if you were to give us a mere fifty soldiers, we might discourage further attacks.”

  “Regrettably, it is the council’s opinion that this is not an efficient use of our resources.”

  My claws pressed into my palms, scratching at the scales there, the pain to keeping me focused. “I understand, but—”

  “The decision is final. Good hunting.” Vrax turned to make his way back to the gates of Ssarsdale.

  “Wait,” I said, taking a step forward. “We have sorcerers.”

  “Do you now?” He stopped, looking over his giant shoulders.

  “We do.” I pointed to myself. “I am still a student, but already I can cast simple spells. My mentor, Tzala, is here.” I gestured to her. “She is much more powerful. We have warriors too. Proper warriors, trained and battle tested. We would be an asset to your city, far more valuable than a distraction to some...” I tried to keep my tone even. “Raiders.”

  He seemed to consider. “Well, if you are truly as you say, we could never be inhospitable to those who bear the blood of dragons in their veins, and warriors are always worthy additions to our armies if they are well trained.”

  “I can vouch for Khavi. He has courage and strength beyond measure. He struck a copper dragon as tall as those doors and lived to tell the tale. He is as
skilled as he is fierce.”

  “Very well,” said Vrax, “we will require proof of these deeds. But it may be in Ssarsdale’s interests if those three be kept as reserves within the city.”

  I couldn’t leave everyone. It was our fault that the humans had come in the first place; for Khavi, Tzala, and I to gain entrance to the city, leaving the rest to be butchered, that could not sit on my conscience. “No,” I said. “We came here as a group. It is all of us or none of us.”

  “No?” Vrax’s voice rose and he turned to face me properly now, his oversized hands by his sides. “By what right do you disobey my commands, goldenscale?”

  “By the right of common decency! By the right of the community!”

  “I have made you an offer. Take it, or march with the Eighth Talon.”

  I turned to Tzala, the desperation lodged deep in my gut. “What do I do?” I whimpered. “I can’t abandon the others.”

  Her face was solemn. I felt as though she were judging me. “You can only do what you think is right.”

  I agonised, looking up at the faces of all the kobolds behind me. They were defeated. They knew they were going to die, and that there was nothing I could do to save them with whatever course of action I chose. I saw no anger in their eyes. No resentment. They knew that it was not logical to send thirty to die when one could send twenty-seven. The decision should be easy.

  Thirty to die or twenty-seven. I could have a cool place to sleep tonight, food in my belly, and power and prestige. Tzala would continue to mentor me, and even Khavi, that crazy kobold, would have something to give his life purpose. We could spare ourselves a battle we could not win and think nothing more of those who had died to give us this place, and how they were doomed anyway.

  We could even grieve for them. Throw ourselves on the stone and wail. Cry for their defeat, for their sacrifice, for their blood spilt in a hopeless battle. We could honour them, hold them in our hearts always, keeping their memories as treasured gifts, and be thankful that they had given us life.

  Or we could die beside them.

  “I’m sorry,” I said to Vrax. “We came here together, and we’ll join your community as a group or not at all.”