The Bloodied Shield

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The Bloodied Shield Page 21

by Michael McKenzie


  "We captured at least forty, killed just as many." Yunzo continued, offering a bow. "They were not expecting people in the Raider's garb to bottle them up while the Guards approached, a stratagem proposed by the Lord Jakuul's Captain."

  "He will be commended." Charles assured them, "As well as your Raiders, but we came across a problem when we attempted to use the Writ of Inspection."

  Charles paused a moment, glanced at Triden, then Jeria.

  "Apparently, it's not owned by the Noble in question, nor the Crown. It has been legally purchased by Kral Mastershield back in Winter in 748."

  The silence in the room that followed had been deafening.

  Charles, after glancing around to ensure they were all listening, continued on.

  "According to reports, it seems that is where our Mercenary friends have spirited themselves off to; and since we started to make arrests, that is where a very large concentration of men wearing that sash entering the storehouse."

  "We tried to serve a Writ of Inspection and demanded their surrender of those men, but we were rebuffed by a pair of dwarves who claim that it is Dwarven business and we need to sod off."

  "How many Sashes?" Jeria demanded.

  "Maybe two hundred." Charles offered with a winch. "We might outnumber them by a good amount, I'd say three to one odds, but in such a confined space? This going to be a bloody fight you started here, Uncle Jeria."

  Jeria glared at Charles a moment at the Uncle bit, before turning around to regard the rest of the Tavern.

  Zansui however, took charge before Jeria could make a bold, if not suicidal proposal.

  "And you have taken nearly a hundred of them off the streets? Well, Lord Hertwire had been right, they were planning to attack the Dock District in a lightning strike to declare their independence." Zansui moved to stand beside her husband. "Hayabatsu has offloaded six thousand infantry and about a thousand Cavalry off those ships of his. They look fresh as if they haven't been at sea for more than a few days much less two months."

  "Who knows how many men that Uginaga seeded here before arriving."

  Grigs shifted up against his Wife, furrowing his bony brows. "Wait wait, I got arrested a bit ago by Infantry of the Royal Army just North of the Docks."

  "Hertwire's men," Zansui confirmed, hugging her husband. "That's it! We can surround them and force those criminals to surrender."

  "It does not matter how many you set up against them." Jeria offered up, toying with the hilt of his sword. "Those men are not the problem."

  "Alright." Charles nodded a moment, "I'll bite. What's the problem?"

  "The ones who ran away," Jeria grunted in disdain. "You have to wipe out the Akuza in a spectacular fashion or there will be repercussions. If this Bosu, this boss, managed to gather a hundred fools to work for him, and if these other two hundred are Samurai on loan from Uginaga, then their Bosu has the coin and the loyalty it provides."

  "Take away that coin-" Jeria started, and Charles understood immediately.

  "-then there will be a retaliation, even if we get their Boss." Charles finished and gritted his teeth. "We've been letting them have sport for far too long however, I'm more than willing to give a show."

  "Gather your men, I will fetch Grok. Dratin, Yunzo, both of you heal." Jeria noted towards the both of them. "Zansui stay here with my Raiders, I assume Hayabatsu will want to discuss how to best serve the crown so you will be aptly protected by his men as well."

  "Father-" Zansui started to protest.

  "-no." Jeria made a dismissive gesture. "We let strangers watch your children for far too long. Trust no one."

  "Triden." the Rilstarin Samurai turned to regard the dwarf. "I would appreciate it that you watch our Grandchildren."

  The Dwarf glanced up from looking on the floor. "Ye swear ye won't be killing me pa?"

  "After all he's done?" Grigs blurted in disbelief.

  "He be family!" Triden looked shocked that Grigs considered killing their own kin.

  Grigs returned the disbelief with his own and shook his head in disappointment. "Fine, we won't kill him if his there Dad."

  "But he is going to answer for Mom. Him and Fel."

  Chapter 16

  Indbore Fel did not want to admit it, but he recognized some of the people who lay scattered in bits and pieces around him. They had all gone on special assignments for Lord Gorgreen, carrying precious packages to set destinations throughout the City of Westwatch.

  But why, oh dear Gods why, were they here now? It was common practice for Gorgreen to simply send off people he did not need anymore. Give them a substantial severance package of mir and coin, and send them off anywhere they had so desired.

  It had been how Fel's Lord and Master treated all of his servants when they retired or felt that they were near discovery. Gorgreen was not one to simply toss away an asset like an overly spoiled child.

  Yet when it came down to it, if they were a threat to be eliminated. If their existence threatened the overall goal?

  Indbore Fel would meek out death on Lord Gorgreen's behalf. It has always been that way. Kill them swiftly so they did not suffer.

  What were these people doing here? And why could he still see their horrified expressions on their face?

  Why could he hear them screaming in agony?

  It took everything Indbore Fel had not to heave his dignity up through his stomach and add to the carnage around him.

  Instead, he followed the trail of what looked to have been a fighting withdrawal. Tracking a quickly thinning wreckage of bodies towards a right-hand door. There was a long corridor with more of those black, eyeless things laying around at his feet. There were side doors, revealing office spaces and living quarters complete with bed, chest and chamber pot, but all were empty of life or light. There had been a flicker further on, and Fel moved to it, thrusting his torch towards it.

  At the end of the Corridor, through another door, Fel discovered an armory. It was complete with forge, rows of weapons and small, crude items that would have been lock picks.

  This place looked little more than a workshop, cramped slightly, with a circle of runes in the ceiling above the flame to magically dissipate the smoke and heat. What light that flickered had been the rune work that lined the walls, bathing it with an ghastly twinge of green.

  Within there was a Crusader of the Blue Rose, their armor assundered, horrifically damaged beyond repair and their sword stained black with the blood of many of these foul creatures that piled at their feet.

  Fel raised his torch higher, noticing the visor had been utterly destroyed. Peering in, Fel sucked in his breath, his eyes widening to round circles.

  Nassin Weavering.

  Fel backpedaled away, nearly dropping the torch as he stumbled right into a man following after.

  "Something amiss o'carrier of Old Blood?" they questioned, stepping around the Fel to peer at the dead Crusader.

  Fel glanced at the man, who seemed to have blended right into the shadows of the room. All that had been visible were the white gloves that were impossibly bright against the dark backdrop.

  Then Fel realized he was alone in the room with the man, no one else had followed the swordsman in here.

  "Look at that face again." the purple haired man gestured towards the face of the Crusader.

  Fel felt an inexplicable desire to do so, though offered resistance. He hesitantly stepped forward and peered within the visor.

  A clean shaven, neatly trimmed mustache on a Rilstarin face, looking utterly defeated as their gaze was locked towards the ceiling.

  "You do not know the man, but he used to send most of his ill-gotten gains to an orphanage on top of his own allowances the Crusaders provided." the Stranger continued, and reached down, closing the dead crusader's eyes. "They even adopted Children of his own, out towards Brandenhall, just inside the North Gate at an inn, owned by his brother."

  "Who are you?" Fel demanded, instinctively reaching for his sword.

  "Gabri
el in life." Gabriel turned, smiling broadly. "Sol'reve in death."

  As they spoke death, Fel felt driven to the ground by something. It was a pressure, a force, that took everything they had to keep falling unto their hands.

  They fought, resisted.

  "And there is that Old Blood." the self proclaimed God, Sol'reve noted as they walked around Fel as if studying them. "Interesting to see the mire of blood lines worked within you."

  "What?"

  "Silence, young mortal, I am appraising your soul."

  Fel's lip curled, and he forced himself to his feet. "I will not be silent."

  "Defiance matching that of the Kodae line, or is that Brytshard I see twinkling in the incur of your black heart?" Sol'reve observed, and gestured with that gloved hand.

  Fel once more found himself on a knee but managed to get a foot down the second time around.

  "You are in the presence of a God, Mortal." Sol'reve said in a statement that Fel wanted to argue with. To taunt and spit on their names.

  Yet he could not. It was true. Fel knew it was true and did not know why.

  But he would not cower before this God, or anything, they were Indbore Fel, damn it!

  "It is an aura. It takes some getting used to but I doubt you will have issues in that regard." Sol'reve continued, pausing to squat before Fel. "Now about your soul."

  "What of it?"

  "I am afraid it belongs to me now." Sol'reve reached over and brushed some of the blond strands from Fel's face. Fel tried to recoil but could not. "Your whole bloodline belongs to me. All of it. Every ounce of every drop, mine."

  "You see, I am not just the God of Assassins, I have a side project if you will. A small thing I like to do revolving around children. I oversee their safety you understand."

  "I can't be everywhere at once. I can't stop all the abuse and debauchery. I can't answer every prayer for safety spoken from broken lips, even more so when they do not know who to pray too. I'm not very well known outside of Lerst."

  "I can, however, repay a kindness to a child or children, like making sure this man's body is returned to his family in Brandenhall. You will see to that."

  Fel's head slowly nodded, and he gritted his teeth. "Is that all?"

  "Oh no. No no no." Sol'reve stood, nearly laughing as they paced out of Fel's view. "Do you think a God simply makes an appearance to a Mortal and offers a simple decree of making sure a body reaches where they will? I could do that by tugging on the strings of Fate."

  "No, murderer of Nassin Weavering." Sol'reve mused returning to stand before Fel once more, and the swordsman's face flinched.

  "I have other matters for you. Some time ago, maybe five years back, you and your comrades tossed a child about between yourselves, laughing at the family who were helpless to defend themselves."

  Sol'reve dropped something on the floor.

  Heads.

  Fel recognized them as his own personal retinue. What was left of them of course, considering Jeria had butchered the others when they attempted to burn down the Stone Samurai.

  And to Fel's horror, they were still whimpering for mercy.

  "There is a special place in the Hells, or rather, the New Hells, where the demons take great pains to entertain themselves with those who have done cruelty to a child." Sol'reve squatted again, this time just over the heads of Fel's men. "You see, I've come for you, Indbore Fel, and yet here I show you the fate you will share with your chosen men."

  "I want something."

  "You want something," Fel said just as Sol'reve did so.

  Sol'reve smiled broadly. "Smart."

  "As I said, I repay the kindness to children, and Nassin Weavering has done much in his life for those torn by magical plague and war. Nassin has requested that I spare you from the horrors of those damned to fall beneath my gaze."

  Sol'reve laughed quietly. "I refused."

  "What you have done with the life Elandra Waters gave you is unforgivable, and not for Nassin Weavering to say." Sol'reve tilted his head to the side. "I would have listened to hear plea to spare you, but I cannot."

  "Elandra Waters is trapped here, in a contraption once held by Ulimax, an artifact that your Master knows intimately."

  Fel's eyes slowly started to round.

  "Yes, they are connected those two. I am surprised you haven't realized that Gorgreen did not lose spies bringing the information of Ulimax's return. He was the one who ordered Ulimax out of hiding. And like a well-trained dog Ulimax sprang forward to do his Master's bidding."

  "And we know the end result, don't we?" Sol'reve reached out and snatched Fel's hair, forcing them to look up at the Assassin God. "Don't we dog?"

  "And you are a well-trained breed, you don't ask questions. So long as you got your coin and your women, you did not care to ask questions." Sol'reve offered, and then continued on, making a gesture for Fel to rise. “So long as you got that Fear and Respect. And you serve the Man who was just as responsible for the Whispering Plague as Ulimax. Wiped your whole family out. Set you on your Path.”

  Obediently, Fel rose at Sol’reve’s whims, and scorned his body and mind for not being his own.

  "I have given you enough reason to cut yourself off from Gorgreen, and you want more reason of trusting a man who would betray his own King's confidence." Sol'reve gestured at Fel's feet. Looking down the Swordsman became acutely aware that he stood in a pile of those wretched, black things.

  They filled Fel's heart with dread looking on them.

  "The dead at your feet trusted him. And if you are so different, then why did he send you here knowing full well what lay beneath?"

  "If Razzar did not come down here-" Fel pieced it together.

  "-You wouldn't be." Sol'reve confirmed with a nod, before holding up a hand before pointing randomly within the room "Or more accurately over there. And over there. And maybe over there."

  Fel's shoulders slumped, and he looked around himself in despair. Fel would have done anything for Dalitrous Gorgreen.

  Anything.

  "And you have. More than enough for a Loyal man to a twisted thing like Dalitrous Gorgreen." Sol'reve seemed to read Fel's thoughts, and Fel snapped his gaze on them.

  "What do you want?!" Fel demanded angrily.

  "I want to free the Soul of Elandra Waters." Sol'reve offered with yet another smile and gesture of his white-gloved hand. "Your soul, for her freedom."

  "By killing my former Master I take it?" Fel growled bitterly.

  "Oh no, no no. Killing Dalitrous Gorgreen will be beyond your capabilities." Sol'reve noted, turning some to peer up the hallway. "He is of course, a practitioner of spellcraft, more so than you will ever suspect."

  "Your path lies elsewhere. Follow it, and you will redeem yourself and have something you desired every waking moment since you recovered from your encounter with Jeria Warstalker."

  "Don't, and you will be joining your friends." Sol'reve nodded back to Fel's feet.

  Unconsciously Fel followed their gesture to see the heads of his men again, pleading for it all to end.

  "I have a demon friend I've affectionately called Ire, and he likes long hair. Something to grab onto I am told."

  Fel closed his eyes and turned his head away.

  "What must I do to free her?" Fel demanded angrily.

  "Yes." chimed another voice. "What must he do?"

  Both Sol'reve and Fel found a Fox pup perched on a dead body nearby.

  They heard the soft sound of metal jingling in the darkness in the hallway soon after.

  Sol'reve laughed as they retreated slightly into the green tinted shadow outside of the torch light. "The Elf I could hear a mile away, but the Fox sneaking up on me? That is clever, clever, clever."

  "I return to this place to finish what I had started and I find it swarming with City Guards. They were directed down here by the Lord Fel to see about my well being, which I appreciate, considering I am an old man after all." the Fox continued to speak, and the tone, they could tell,
was not one of approval.

  "They haven't heard or seen anything of Lord Fel since his departure down this hall, and what do I find?"

  Razzar the Red entered the armory, planting his halberd squarely into the floor, placing a hand on hip and glaring with that one glowing blue eye.

  "The Assassin God interfering in a Mortal's Affairs."

  Fel could only turn their head to peer back at Razzar. This was not a hunched over Elderly Elf trying to walk. This was a warrior who exuded power in their stance as they faced down what could have been a God, or something else.

  "I interfere where I will, Mortal." Sol'reve smiled, but bowed, "Yet it is an honor to be recognized by one of such might."

  "Oh, I recognize you, Sol'reve. I have seen your bust on more than one occasion and my memory is as sharp as my weapon." the Fox spoke on as Razzar moved closer. "There are also very few Corsair Gods and one less soon for their duplicity."

  Razzar then took a very protective posture in front of Fel, who could barely move to begin with. When the elf did, the Swordsman found that he could control his body once more, and he immediately placed a hand on his weapon.

  "What game are you playing Assassin God?" the Fox demanded loudly. "Are you muddling the cords of Fate for your own designs?"

  "As I said once, but I will repeat, I am but a pawn on the board." Sol'reve smiled and gestured towards the Blond swordsman behind the elf. "And I seek to aid Indbore Fel for my own reasons."

  "Aid?" Razzar's disembodied voice questioned, the Elf glanced back towards Fel. "So I take Xander knows then?"

  "Knows enough that when I offered to kill this wretch, Xander asked that I do so painlessly. I instead aim to offer a chance for Fel to redeem his Soul."

  "Which brings me to the question of what game are you playing at?" Razzar demanded, the fox's voice sounded furious.

  "Indbore Fel is to help free Elandra's soul." Sol'reve said, completely ignoring Razzar's question as he stepped further back into the shadow. "Or the Demons will have their sport."

  Razzar's body snapped into action, and before Fel could fathom it, the Elf had raised their halberd and threw it like a spear. It sank deep into the stone, vibrating slightly as it came to a halt.

 

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