by Wade Adrian
And she was dead. Because of him. Because of Tovi. Because of Corvi.
Yet there was a pang of guilt when he realized he seemed to care more about losing her than he did about Dave.
He'd known the man for years. Maybe not a close friend, but a friend. He was always talking about the shows he watched and other games he played. He went to lunch with them more often than not.
Well, he had.
Then this nonsense happened.
Max hoped against hope that Yar was wrong, that Dave was free of the stupid game now, even if that meant he was unconscious somewhere.
He had to believe that.
"What happened to him? He was alive when I left."
"You left the man poisoned and bleeding out, dear." The bird made a tsk noise that was probably impossible without lips. "But I suspect he would have survived that. I fear Mehtan is ultimately responsible. He likes to latch onto his servants. Being severed might have caused the brute more harm than any blade."
"So it was still my fault."
"You did what was necessary to complete your mission."
That didn't matter in the least. This was a fake world. Once they figured out how to leave, they could fix the place. Start it again. Everyone would be back. Even Eira, though she wouldn't remember him.
He could live with that to see her again.
But it wouldn't help Dave.
"What happened to him?"
The bird tilted its head back and forth as it stared at Max. "He died."
"I mean beyond that. You're supposed to be a god. Yar-"
The bird bristled at the name, feathers fluffing out.
He really didn't care. "-said people like us that died weren't coming back anymore. We used to, in here. Death was just an inconvenience."
"If I thought you possessed such a power, I would not have cautioned you against taking this action."
A roundabout way of agreeing with Yar without admitting it.
So very like Corvi.
The bird looked at Dave again. "You say you knew this man. He is from your land, yes? Have you told your friend yet?"
"I don't know how." His voice cracked.
The bird stared at him for a moment, eyes unblinking. "Secrets are wondrous things, dear. I am quite fond of them. But some should not be kept." Skip hopped up, landing again on a standing fragment of the broken map table. "I don't give away my secrets. All that has happened here is known only to you. Do with it what you will."
Skip took to the air, flapping out the window.
The door creaked open a moment later.
She must have known someone was coming.
Tom leaned inside. "There you are." He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. "We're packing up. I don't know about you, but I can't get out of this place soon enough."
Max nodded a bit.
Or rather, he tried to.
He might not have.
Tom glanced around the room, wandering in. He was careful not to step on any of the birds. "Looks like quite the fight."
Dave was lying face down.
Tom stepped around him, more interested in the maps. "Huh..."
He snatched up a few pieces of paper, moving them about.
"Looks like they used to have more troops at the Narwhal, and patrolling about, too. They called them all here recently. Probably when we started taking stuff." He held up a sheet. "It looks a lot like we really did stop an invasion we didn't even know about. Go team."
"Yay." Max croaked.
Tom snatched up all the other papers, tucking them into his inventory. "Looks like material for a bonus to me." He paused when he noticed the crow skull pendant on the floor. He picked it up gingerly, by the cord, and turned to Max. "You want this?"
"Not really."
He nodded. "Understood."
Tom tossed the pendant out the window before stepping closer. He stopped, cutting his eyes to the floor.
Max's breath caught in his throat.
Tom knelt down... and picked up the flail. He had kicked it with his foot. "Well that's pretty rad." He packed it away with his things.
Max sighed.
Great. A reminder.
Tom stood over him, extending a hand. "Come on, time to go."
"If I must."
32
Cheers of reverence chased them out of the Rock. Max rode at the back of the little group, his horse following the others with little input from him.
The revelry was not for them. It was for the fallen. The courtyard was lined with pyres, all of them burning.
One of them was Eira. He didn't know which.
Einar was not among them. His resting place was on the lowest level, just below ground. Brynjar would almost certainly wish to give him some greater honors than a soldiers pyre.
The living sang, drank, and told stories about them, even up to the events of the night before and how they had died.
About half the standing troops were still on duty, though. They'd get their turn later.
It was strange to be riding with so few. Tom rode at the front, a scout he referred to as Iona, maybe the last scout, just behind. One of the higher ranking soldiers followed them, and Max trailed along trying not to think.
In the past it had almost always only been the pair of them, aside from the occasional help from Rhonda, Dave, or a handful of others, but he'd almost gotten used to having a little army riding with them.
It had not ended in a pleasing manner... but they had done some impressive things. Life might well be better here for their efforts.
And yet, maybe it would have been fine without them, too. How many had died for their cause? Ten of theirs, but too many bandits and foreigners to easily count. They certainly weren't better off.
Tom seemed to be enjoying the ride. He was talking with Iona, the pair of them laughing occasionally.
Max couldn't find words for anyone.
"She was proud, you know."
He sighed when Corvi's voice appeared.
The sneaky pendant was back. It was starting to feel like a curse.
"Even at the end. She heard your proclamation. She was impressed that you had succeeded with no help at all. Eira was proud of you."
Max pulled the leather cord off his neck for the second time today. He held it out, snagging it on a tree branch as he passed.
Corvi kept on talking, trying to get his attention, but her voice faded behind as the horses moved on.
The sun was setting when they approached the town surrounding Brynjar's castle. Guards well beyond the walls noticed them before they got anywhere near. One turned and rode away as fast as his horse would move while a second approached, raising a hand.
"Good evening."
Tom gave him a nod. "It is a decent evening at the very least. Reporting in, as ordered. The Rock has been taken."
The guard blinked a few times. "Already?"
"We're just that good. And reckless."
The man leaned in his saddle, looking them over. "Is this all that's left?"
Tom gave the man an a level stare. "We're not that reckless. You've got eighteen people holding the Rock. They could use some reinforcements, though, as they have twice that many prisoners, easy. Probably more. Honestly stopped counting at thirty, they all have the same stupid clothes on. Made it a pain."
The guard turned his horse, motioning for them to follow. "King Brynjar will be overjoyed to hear the mission was a success."
Tom moved his horse to tag along. "There were some losses."
"Of course."
Heh. Everyone had such low expectations. "The place was crawling with enemies. Our intel sucked, by the way. Fifteen to twenty per fort? Yeah, no. We put a stop to a rather serious invasion plan this time." He pulled out a few of the papers. "Got proof right here."
The guard squinted at the pages in the dying light of day. "I can't read those. What language is that?"
"Dunno, but I can read them. And I'm sure you've got someone else around here who can back me up.
"
"I'm not questioning you, sir." The guard held up a hand. "I daresay there is no one left here who would after all you've accomplished."
"Damn straight."
Iona hid a grin.
The officer that had accompanied them coached his horse to ride alongside the guard. "I have a list of our losses. It's not a great number but there are... noteworthy entries. Brynjar should be informed."
The guard nodded. "No doubt. He'll be in the main hall at this hour, awaiting the evening meal. With this news, he may well tell them to roll out a feast." The man shook his head. "All five forts returned. My my. If my grandfather had lived to see this day."
The officer seemed uncomfortable in his saddle. "Yes, well, perhaps. It would be best if Brynjar could be told in private."
"I'll try to arrange it."
People watched as they crossed the town. Most stopped what they were doing to watch the horses go by. Several appeared at second story windows and on roofs.
Tom waved.
His adoring public was pretty quiet, but they'd come out to see the conquering heroes.
Iona shook her head, but she was smiling. The guard and officer had stone faced determination up front.
Max was milling far enough back to look like the next guy following the road rather than part of their party.
His blue funk hadn't lifted so far. Maybe seeing Tovi would help.
Then again she was the cause of some of these problems.
Even odds, then.
The walls of the castle itself were taller than those around the city. The gates were already open when they arrived. Guards standing watch saluted.
It didn't seem like they had been kidding about scraping the bottom of the barrel for people to hold the forts. The place wasn't a ghost town, but it had about half the guards Tom had noticed last time. No post was abandoned, but a lot of them clearly had spots for two guards but only sported one.
Well, so much for the people at the Rock getting relieved. At least it had some nice lodgings and was basically impossible to take... traditionally.
Tom did a double take when he noticed the prison wagon waiting in the courtyard. The foreign guy that had been in charge of the Narwhal and a few of his cronies were inside.
He sped his horse up to catch up to the guard leading them and pointed at the wagon. "How did they get here?"
"Hmm?" The guard eyed the wagon. "Oh, they only arrived a short while ago. It is my understanding that Brynjar intends to speak with them. I'm not sure of his intentions."
Tom scoffed. "Tell him to yell. Guy will fold like a napkin."
"I shall relay that."
"Guess I might talk to Brynjar first." Tom dismounted when the horses stopped. He waved his papers again. "Lots to go over. Like our fee."
A female voice answered. "You will be well compensated, of course."
Iona lowered her head. The guard and officer did likewise, though theirs were lower.
Tovi smiled, standing at the large doors leading into the main hall with a small retinue of similarly dressed women. "We didn't expect you so soon, but I suppose at this point we should. You keep surprising us."
Tom didn't like the idea of being lynched, so he gave her a nod. "Well, we figured there was no reason to dilly dally."
She was looking past him.
No surprise there.
Max climbed down from his horse with all the grace of a sumo wrestler, but she watched anyway. A few moments later her eyes strayed enough for surprise to appear on her face. "I don't see my dear brother."
The officer that had come with them bowed low. "That is a matter I must discuss with your father as soon as possible, my lady."
Her feigned shock was pretty good.
Tom almost bought it.
She lowered her head. "Has he been wounded? Oh dear. Very well, I won't keep you." She stood aside from the door, waving for the man to enter.
He ventured inside without another word.
She wore a rather convincing frown as she followed him a few steps, before stopping and turning back. "Forgive me, I must see to... I must..." She covered her face as she wandered inside, the retinue following close behind.
Tom crossed his arms and muttered. "And the Oscar goes to..."
The guard that had lead them this far waved towards the door. "Come, come. I'm sure we can find you food and lodgings."
"Better than my previous lodgings, I hope."
The guard let out a nervous laugh. "Ah... yes. I'm certain of it."
Not much could compare with a damp cell, but at least they hadn't skimped on the wake up call.
The main hall looked the same now as it had when Tom marched out, though now the tables were filled.
Cheers erupted when he appeared. Everyone sitting or standing around raised glasses and their voices.
Musicians were playing some sort of stringed... thing, along with drums and some flutes.
Tom held his arms up and out before giving a bow. Iona chuckled behind him.
He caught sight of Max just slipping in quietly.
Max always had been the kind of guy you had to tie to a chair if a reward was involved, but this was different. Things had gone to shit at the end there, he probably thought they'd fucked up.
And maybe they had. It certainly hadn't been a flawless victory... but they had taken the forts, as requested.
Tom was fine with that.
It was also possible Max was avoiding Tovi, or anyone else with a skull pendant for that matter. He wasn't happy with Corvi, and didn't want to talk to her.
Brynjar was seated on his throne at the end of the room. He stood and held up his cup with the others.
Either he didn't care that Einar was worm food, or he didn't know yet.
"My friends, welcome, welcome." He took a few steps forward, downing his cup. "By all the gods, the Rock reclaimed after all this time. I can hardly believe it. But here you stand, my troops hold all positions, and I even have a few new guests in my courtyard." He laughed.
Other laughs joined him.
The wagon had been there for a good bit if everyone knew about it.
Bryjnar smiled, finding another cup while people laughed and cheered. "I ask you, what other king has accomplished so much?"
Tom's eyebrow crept up.
Bryjnar hadn't done shit but keep a chair warm with his lazy ass.
The locals ate it up, though. More cheers, calls for toasts to Brynjar. At least a few of them mentioned Caddrach and Talren. What a nice afterthought.
Hell with them. He didn't need their charity. He just needed his money to make sure they didn't have any issues moving forward from this frozen hellscape.
Brynjar laughed and drank with his people, cheering, even trying to sing a bit with the minstrels...
Until the officer caught up with him.
Tom was too far to hear, but he could see Brynjar wave the man off as he continued to celebrate, but the officer wasn't having it. He kept moving close, no doubt insisting his news was important.
But really, what could be more important than ending decades, nay, generations of failures?
Brynjar's face drooped in an instant. He turned critical eyes to the officer, who tried to usher him out of the room. The king nodded and followed quietly.
The rest kept on celebrating.
Not public news, then.
Tom sat at a table near the door, just in case it became necessary to bolt for his horse.
Money wasn't worth his life, of course. If it looked like things were going to go sour he would drag Max if he had to.
Max was...
Tom blinked a few times, glancing around the room.
Max was gone.
"Son of a bitch."
Iona sat beside him and set a drink in front of him. "What's the matter?"
"You see Max anywhere?"
"Max?"
"Talren." He sighed.
She looked around for a few moments before shrugging. "Guess he isn't much for cele
brations."
"No. He isn't."
He might be dumb enough to start trouble though. "Justice" and all that silly bullshit.
That was him to a T.
Tom picked up the cup and held it close, but he kept scanning the room.
They were in the home stretch here. Max could not be that stupid... could he?
Someone at the front of the room banged a ladle against a serving platter a few times. "Friends, it pains me to be the bearer of bad news on such a glorious day, but these great victories did not come without a cost. King Brynjar has decreed that tonight will be spent in reverence for the fallen, may their names and deeds never be forgotten."
Cheers met the somber words.
Bunch of psychopaths.
"Tomorrow morning there will be a funeral where they are honored. Any who wishes may attend." The man took a deep breath, steadying himself. "After, the state funeral for Lord Einar will be held. He fell retaking his great great grandfather's fortress from foreign devils planning an invasion into our lands. He stood against ten men alone, but fell to their dishonorable ways. Boran no doubt already has him close at hand, but we shall honor him just the same."
The room was silent while the man spoke.
Stunned, perhaps.
He hadn't been the most beloved royal, but that didn't take his status away. And he'd gone out like a boss as far as they were concerned.
Cups rose here and there. More joined them. In the end every cup in the room was held high, including Tom's
Still didn't want to be lynched.
"Einar!" A cheer went up. "Blood of Boran and Gaira!"
Tom tried to say it too, but he was a bit behind since he learned it as they said it.
He had no idea who Gaira was, but Boran was their god. Well, one of them. No mention of Corvi, but that might have been rude given she had ordered him killed.
Cheers and songs returned, louder than before.
People told stories, loudly.
It was rather hard on the ears... but he didn't complain.
Lynching was bad.
It wasn't difficult for Max to find his way back to Tovi's chambers. He'd been in and out a few times. It also hadn't been difficult to get there unseen. He'd been getting rather good at that lately.
