Chapter 103:
Ivano’s feet landed with a heavy thud on the walls of Thessos. A Bebbezarian soldier charged towards him, his short sword raised over his head in a frenzied attempt to strike him down. Ivano charged towards him and smashed his shield into his. The man’s eyes widened in shock as the much larger, and what he must have presumed slower, Clansmen collided with him. Ivano’s boots dug into the stone ground while the man careened backwards, his armour skidding on the bloodied stone. Ivano darted forward and swung his axe into the man’s chest. The axe head broke through the metal plate carved through to the fragile flesh and bone underneath. His mouth frothed with blood and then he was still.
Ivano wrenched his axe free and wiped the blood off on his bright yellow and blue clothes. Why the Bebbezarians wore such bright colours, even at dusk and defending a fortress city, he had no idea. The sounds of battle continued around him. Once this wall had dozens of archers defending but they lay dead, many killed by Clansmen arrows but more killed by axe blows.
The trip from his cold homeland to the warm lowlands had been long and arduous, not helped by the thoughts and people that clouded his mind. His Chief, Arnkel, had custody of his wife and children and had not too subtly threatened him to perform a task. Capture the lord of Thessos, Gavriel de Yascar, and bring him, or just his head, back to the chief of the Fire Blades, Mord, and challenge him to a blood Duel and claim the clan for himself and by extension Arnkel. Easy, or so Arnkel implied. Especially when he wasn’t the one doing it. Ivano grumbled mentally as he looked at the dead bodies slumped against the wall.
The small ladder behind him rattled and Arvid joined him. Despite only having one hand he moved up the rickety ladder with a frightening speed. While the main siege ladders were far better constructed these smaller and more portable ladders were needed for the inner walls.
“You know, when you took us from Rangarvellir I thought you were making this whole part up.” Arvid gently swung his large axe with his one remaining hand. “My brother and I thought you would use this and a chance to try and escape.”
“I didn’t.” Another voice came up the rickety ladder. Arlid poked his head over the wall and laughed when she saw the dead Bebbezarian soldiers. “That’s just my brother. I always thought you were genuine.”
“Shut up.” Arvid helped his brother up onto the wall. “Like you can talk.”
Ivano shook his head and suppressed a smile. During their time together he had got used to the both of them bickering and teasing each other. It took the edge off his worries, that this was more like an adventure than a dangerous mission he was taking against his will.
“How long before those bodyguards of yours figure out where we are?” Arvid asked.
“It’ll be a while.” Ivano pointed towards the centre of Thessos.
The lower sections of the city burned, the screams of the young and innocent mixed with the roar of the flames and the shouts of those fighting on both side. Thessos was much larger than he remembered. Before, when he had been captured by a Bebbezarian Merchant Prince, Thessos was a large fortress but nothing like this. This was easily three times as large and very heavily fortified, something that the men leading the assault had not taken into consideration.
Mord sent his son, Dyri, to lead the assault. Dyri was the spitting image of his father; a large strong man, like nearly every Clansmen, with a thick red beard and red eyes. He was a strong and brave warrior. However, Ivano’s concerns about the leadership quality of the Clansmen, and their selection methods proved to be correct this time as well. Dyri had enough men to take Thessos, if he fought with any intelligence. Instead, he had launched everyone into an all-out assault before they were sufficiently prepared or made enough siege weapons. They had enough ladders to get onto the walls and into the city but the casualties were far higher than they should have been. Crossbows and archers tore through the exposed sections on their insufficiently numbered ladders, which would have been fixed if they had waited just another day. And once they were on the walls Bebbezarians were able to box them in with crossbows and bows firing at point-blank range. Only the raw strength of the Clansmen had pushed the defenders back and allowed them to spill into the city. But far too many had died just to take the wall, and the defenders were well prepared for an assault. Ivano remained near the back of the army and once inside the city had given his guards the slip when a band of Bebbezarians ambushed them. He didn’t care for the gold or spoils from this battle. He needed to find Gavriel de Yascar and, thanks to one terrified guard had blabbed before fainting, he knew he was hiding in a small keep to the side of the main castle.
“So what now?” Arlid asked.
“We need to find a person here and then get out.”
“Alive?”
Ivano paused. “Yes. If we can manage it.”
“I don’t know.” Arvid poked a corpse with the head of his axe. “Looks like they’ve already been through here. Our Berserkers really do cleave through them, huh?”
Ivano nodded to a large wood and stone building in the middle of the stone wall. “That building’s not on fire and I know I saw some candles in there before. That’s where he’ll be hiding.”
“And why wouldn’t he have just run away?”
“Well, that’s one good about Dyri’s reckless assault. No one really knew that we were coming.” Ivano turned away. “Though they wouldn’t have for another day, enough so we could properly prepare the siege.”
The ladder rattled again and Erik emerged over the top. He was covered in blood, thankfully not his own, and his axe was tipped with a fresh coat.
“Looks like you had some fun.” Arlid teased.
Erik shrugged. “After you two went up two Bebbezarians tried to attack me.”
“And you won?”
Erik shot Arlid a look, one full of annoyance at his joke. When he looked at Ivano his expression changed to smouldering hatred. His father, who’s name Ivano didn’t know and considered too rude to ask now, had died during an ambush while escorting him to Brenningr. Then had been eaten by a marauding group of Stone Men. A simple metal chain around Erik’s neck was all that remained of him, one that he wore at all times. Ivano knew that he still blamed Ivano for leaving his father’s corpse to be devoured by the Stone Men, but at least he has the chance to be angry. Hopefully, he would eventually understand.
Regardless of his feelings about Ivano he still followed his orders. Ivano always kept an eye on him and positioned him just outside of striking distance. Just in case. One could never be too careful.
“Enough,” Ivano grumbled. “We need to keep moving and get out before reinforcements arrive.”
Arvid and Arlid looked at one another. “What reinforcements?”
Ivano pointed to the top of the main castle. A massive bonfire raged on the top, bright pink in colour. Anyone within a hundred miles could see it. The moment they assaulted the flame erupted, and that was some time ago.
“By morning this place will be swarming with Bebbezarians. And I don’t want to get captured again.”
“You were captured?” Arvid asked.
Ivano nodded and turned to walk along the wall. He didn’t need to hear the screams of his fellow clansmen nor the laughter of his captors. They had enjoyed torturing them, though, considering what the clansmen did to them on a regular basis that wasn’t surprising.
Ivano walked to the guard house before a sword darted towards him. It wasn’t a good or strong strike so he simply dodged the blade. A Bebbezarian guard stumbled out, quickly dispatched with a swift cut upwards with his axe. Another two guards dove out to attack him. These were relatively young, probably stationed somewhere that was supposedly safe. Ivano bashed one with his shield and hit the other with the blunt edge of his axe. Both fell down to the ground silent, their swords and shields scattering. Arlid and Arvid entered the little guard house and looked at the unconscious guards. Ivano shook his head and moved forward, both men shrugged before stripping them of their weapons and moving them to one side. Just past the door lay four Clansmen, blood seeping from their wounds. At least they knew why some defenders were still alive.
On the other side of the guard house lay a large set of stone steps down to the courtyard in front of the small keep. No soldiers stood outside the keep but the door was strangely open. A dark void lay inside, one that, for some reason, disturbed Ivano.
“Did that guard of yours tell you which floor he’s supposed to be on?” Arvid asked.
“No. But if we find someone we’ll soon know.” Ivano glanced at the two, and Erik who trudged down the stone stairs. “If you find any women or anyone that doesn’t fight back, don’t touch them. Understood?”
The twins nodded. “Never liked that stuff.” Arvid smiled. “If that’s the best way you can bed a woman then you’re really pathetic.”
Ivano smiled. His own wife had almost done that to him when he announced his desire to marry her. That was quite the night. It had been too long since he had felt her warmth and her touch.
Before they took another step the sound of splintering wood came from their right. A wooden door splintered as axe heads burst through. Within a few moments the door tore apart, large armoured clansmen tearing a large hole before wrenching the lock open. The door opened and ten heavily clansmen poured out. Ivano recognised one at the front.
“I wondered where you went.” Dyri sniggered. “My father told me to keep an eye on you. He told me that only Arnkel’s word got you into this raid.”
Ivano stared blankly at Dyri, slowly blinking his eyes. It seemed that Dyri wasn’t the smartest person. His brow furrowed before he shook his head.
“Whatever. What are you doing here anyway?”
“What are you doing here?”
Dyri furrowed his brows once again. “Some of the guards we captured said there’s something really valuable in here. I’m thinking a lot of gold. We’ve already got enough slaves back home but we could always do with so more. And Seocuria’s always willing to oblige. And they said the noble women are kept here.”
Ivano grumbled. Taking slaves is a good way to make your surviving victims hate you. Especially when you could buy slaves legally. The wolf Beast-kin flashed through his mind, the look of despair but also the fire of resistance that burned underneath his eyes. He pushed it aside to focus on the present.
“We haven’t seen anyone here,” Ivano replied. “You’d be better off looking somewhere else.”
“That would be you. A disgraced man like yourself, skulking around trying to get rich.”
Ivano sighed. After they had left Brennigir Dyri had made a constant effort to continue to point out Ivano’s position and situation, to tease and belittle him, though Ivano was certain it had everything to do with his father’s opinion of him. Dyri got many things wrong about the failed invasion that Ivano had to correct. After the fourth correction, Dyri relented, though he found other ways to try and torment him.
“I’m not in command here.” Ivano shrugged dismissively. “Everyone that falls is on your head, this time.”
Dyri paused before grunting. “Whatever. This city will burn soon enough, then the rest of the Kingdom will be ours.”
This is just one fortress city. They’ll have hundreds upon thousands of soldiers coming here right now, not to mention the civilians that can still fight. Do you really think that you could actually take on the whole kingdom after capturing this one fortress?
“So, are you going to go in first?” Dyri asked.
Ivano stepped back and waved Dyri forward. Something about the open door and darkness troubled him. The Clansmen that had assaulted the walls hadn’t got this far and he doubted the Bebbezarians were this stupid.
Dyri waved his mend forward.
Arvid tapped Ivano’s shoulder with his axe. “Is that a good idea? You, wanting this man alive?”
“I don’t think they’re going to keep his head on his shoulders,” Arlid added.
“Didn’t want to fight him. Besides, I only need the head if everything else fails-”
Erik grabbed Ivano’s shoulder and pulled him hard to the right while kicking Arvid to the left. A Clansmen flew out of the Keep, streaming blood from his body. Dyri skid along the hard ground before slumping against the far wall. One of his arm and both his legs had twisted in strange ways while his face was drenched in blood. A strange noise came from the keep. Like a bear struggling to climb.
A large soldier emerged from the keep. The soldier, more like a Qaiviel Knight, had to stoop low to get through the door. The giant was easily seven or even eight feet tall, with arms and legs to match. Every part of his body was covered with a thick iron armour with green Bosciycium woven throughout. It was a cheap way of dramatically increasing the strength of armour without spending a fortune. Behind him, he dragged a massive broad-sword, longer than he was tall. It too was made from a mixture of iron and Bosciycium.
The Knight glanced between them, his breath ragged with wet spittle leaking through very small breathing slits. The Knight growled and raised his broadsword ready to strike, but he didn’t advance any further. All drew their axes and readied themselves for a fight, but the Knight stayed still.
“Hello?” Arvid asked the Knight. Nothing came back. “I think he’s one of those…slow people. You know, not all there in the head.”
“That means he’ll be really strong,” Arlid added. “Nothing’s going to stop him once he starts yelling!”
These two really don’t stop once they get going.
Ivano couldn’t see any other safe way into the Keep and he doubted they would survive meeting such a monster inside, nor would it just patiently wait while they infiltrated the keep. He had to be dealt with here. Ivano sighed and advanced. The Knight glanced towards him and readied his broadsword. Ivano raised his shield and ran as fast as he could. He swung his broadsword with a speed Ivano had never seen before. He dodged to the side and angled his shield to deflect the blow to his extended leg. The strike hit the shield and shattered the wood and iron, scattering them in all directions, and continued and crashed into the ground. Ivano’s hand screamed in pain. It wasn’t broken but it was close. The sheer strength of this man…
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However the large size and the sheer weight of the sword, and being embedded in the ground meant the Knight was defenceless for a few moments. Arlid and Arvid charged and swung their heavy axes. The Knight grunted and stepped back, the axes striking air, but the twins took another step forward and found their mark. The axes struck the armour, bending and tearing through the plates. Both dropped their weapons as the Knight attempted a wild swing with his fist. It missed but Ivano heard the air tear in front with his swing.
Arvid and Arlid were without weapons as they returned to Ivano’s side. They pulled small knives from their belts.
“That armour’s really tough.” Arvid shook his head as the Knight took his stance again. “And now we don’t have our axes.”
“He should be bleeding,” Erik said quietly. Ivano saw one of the axes hadn’t fallen to the ground and was embedded in the armour around his waist. It was deep enough to draw blood and yet it was still clean.
“Right.” Ivano twirled his axe in his hand. “We’ll take his damn head off and that’ll be the end of him.”
All four readied to attack as the Knight looked between them. The spittle trailing down his helm only grew as his breath grew more ragged and angry. Ivano moved forward first again. The Knight raised his broadsword to cleave him in two. Ivano ran back and the Knight gave chase. He stepped back as Arlid and Arvid struck. Their knives found purchase in the small gaps in the armour. Both backed away as the Knight’s helm swivelled towards Arlid and swung his fist again. It connected with Arlid’s shoulder and sent him flying towards the Keep. He crasged into the wall and fell silent. Arvid cried out but the Knight’s grunt kept their attention.
As the Knight turned back to Ivano and Arvid, Erik swung his smaller axe at the Knights’ head. It struck the mail protecting his neck and dug deep into the flesh beneath. The Knight grunted and swung his Broadsword, with only one hand, at Erik. He ducked and let the sword fly over his head. Erik lunged at the Knight and wrenched the axe free. Instead of a spurt of blood, and the Knight collapsing, he ignored the wound and picked up his sword.
“That’s new.” Arvid smiled, though his eyes darted to his silent brother.
Erik looked at his clean axe.
“No one can survive having their head cut off,” Ivano said. “You get the Arlid’s axe near his feet while I distract him and then you cut his head off. Just stay out of the way, Arvid.”
Erik nodded. If he wanted Ivano dead this was the best chance he had for someone else to take care of him. Ivano doubted that but there was no choice but to trust him.
Ivano shouted at the Knight and caught his attention. He grunted and advanced on Ivano while Erik simply moved out of the way. The Knight moved very quickly and quickly caught up with Ivano. He grunted and raised his broadsword to strike. Ivano saw Erik pick up the discarded great axe and run at the Knight’s back. Ivano felt a pang of fear as the Knight stopped raising his sword and began to swing down. Erik jumped up and swung the large axe at his neck but the Knight was already swinging. Ivano dived out of the way of the strike, landing on his wounded hand, as the sword smashed into the ground. Erik rolled the other side of the sword without the axe in his hands.
The Knight staggered as an armoured hand reached for the axe embedded deep into his neck. Its leg staggered and collapsed to one knee before falling over. The axe’s handle hit the ground before its neck and pushed it up and completely severed the head. The metal helm crashed into the ground, yet no blood spurted from the wound or covered the axe.
“Brother!” Arvid ran towards his still downed brother while Ivano and Erik slowly advanced on the dead Knight.
Ivano hauled himself up and picked up the helmet, the head still contained within, and tried to shake it free. It didn’t rattle and was completely lodged within. The visor opened slightly with his shaking. None of this was making sense. His damaged hand screamed in pain but he wrenched the top of the helmet open.
“Fucking hell.” Ivano looked away from the head within.
“What happened to him?” Erik asked.
The head inside looked like a torture victim. His lips had been removed, strange deep scars carved deep into his face and his flesh held together by black stitches. Even though they looked old they hadn’t healed. A faint purple hue leaked from the wounds which quickly faded with every moment that passed. When it was gone Ivano tipped the helmet over, shouted in shock and dropped the helmet. Erik looked oddly at him before Ivano pointed at the helmet. Where there should have been a flat wound, strangely missing blood, lay a strange tendril amalgamation. Hundreds of black worm-like protrusions dangled from the wound, lying limp and motionless. The Knight’s neck had the same worms but these were still alive. They thrashed in the air as they looked for something. A few more breaths passed and they fell limp like those from the head.
“What did they do to this man?” Erik asked. “My father…My father said the Thieves Kingdom is full of dangerous and evil people. But I didn’t think they would do something like this.”
“I have no idea what this is.” Ivano kicked the Knight. He was still. “Last time I was here they had nothing like this. Nothing like this in Qaiviel either. Or Graterious or Seocuria…”
That Grand Mage though…He wasn’t from Qaiviel though. I wonder if he knows something about this.
Ivano brushed aside the thoughts of the strange trio he met in Qaiviel. He brushed away another thought on what they were doing right now. Whatever it was it was probably better than fighting one of these creations, though none of them would have had much trouble with their magic.
Ivano tried to pick up the sword and couldn’t. It wasn’t his wrist that was the problem, just the sheer weight was too much. He managed to get it up, but only after putting up nearly all his strength into lifting the blade. How the Knight could move such a thing was beyond him.
“He’s still breathing!” Arvid shouted to them.
Ivano and Erik ran to the twins. Arlid was indeed alive, but very badly hurt. His coughs were ragged and hoarse, but he hadn’t punctured or collapsed his lungs, nor were they filling with blood. He knew the faces of those that had. Ivano had held the hands of too many Clansmen as they died with terror in their eyes.
“I…I can still feel my legs.” Arlid smiled weakly. “So I’m not going to be put down just yet. You killed that thing?”
“Yeah…” Ivano didn’t want to think too much about the Knight…creature.
“I’ll be fine.” Arlid continued. “You two get that man of yours. We’ll take care of that Dyri kid as well.”
Ivano had forgotten about Dyri. The Knight took precedence when he emerged. “See if he’s still breathing and stay out of sight. If we aren’t back soon take him and get out of here.”
The twins nodded as Arvid picked up his brother and moved towards Dyri’s body. Ivano didn’t feel much for the kid. He hadn’t been a very smart leader, had cost hundreds of Clansmen’s lives without felling a single Bebbezarian defender, and had charged into the Keep like he owned the place. Nonetheless, a part of him hoped that he lived. It seemed a shame to lose a great warrior. Perhaps he would learn from this.
Ivano raised his axe and pointed Erik to the other side of the door. If another of these Knight creatures hid in the Keep they would have to flee. Essentially it was a miracle they had survived against one. If there were just two he doubted they would have survived.
Ivano peered into the darkness. While he couldn’t see far he could see blood staining the floor, and what remained of Dyri’s bodyguard. He retreated outside the Keep and found a small torch. Now he could see the mangled remains dropped on the floor. No grooves or scratches lay in the wood, the Knight had crushed and torn through them with his bare hands.
Erik followed closely behind Ivano as they stepped through the blood and over the bodies. The interior of the Keep was far better furnished than a normal military building. Once they had passed the first passageway the wood lining the walls became far more expensive. Ivano recognised the red swirls through the dark red. This wood only grew on the Shadow Isles, just a single panel of this tree would cost hundreds of silver, and every wall was covered by it. Other ornamentation unbefitting a Keep; gold furnishing, expensive paintings and lavish furniture, filled every room. This was a place to show off someone’s wealth and not a defensive structure. There was more wealth in one room than in Ivano’s whole village.
In the third room, he spotted something hiding behind a large chair. He passed the torch to Erik and strode into the room. He heard the whimpering grow louder until it screamed as he reached for an arm. A young woman, dressed in expensive maid clothes, was hauled up by Ivano. She hit him in the chest, her strikes incredibly weak over his armour. Finally, she stopped struggling and looked up at him. Her brown doey eyes were already red and tears streamed down her face.
“Where is Gavriel?”
The maid shook her head.
Ivano sighed. “Just tell me and then get out of here. Unless you want to be raped or burned alive.”
The maid seriously considered his offer. Ivano properly looked her over. She was young but clearly rapidly filling out underneath her tight clothes. With a soft face and a growing body, she would be a great prize for an inclined warrior. Ivano was not such a person but couldn’t protect her from the thousands that would want her, and not all of them were men either. She might not even see the dawn if she were taken.
“Upstairs.” She whispered, almost afraid to give up her master. “In the third room on the left after you reach the stairs.”
Ivano let the maid go. “Get out of the Keep. I don’t know if someone else is going to come through here and they won’t take no for an answer. And you don’t want to end up with them, no matter how pretty you are.”
She looked confused at his compliment at the end of his threat. Ivano moved to the side and pushed her out of the building. “Head as far away from the south as you can.”
She stopped, looked him over once and nodded, before running out the door. Erik gave her a wide berth as she ran past the dead Clansmen and out the keep. Ivano hoped she spoke the truth when he gingerly advanced up the stairs. He peeked around the corner and found the second floor just as abandoned as the first. They advanced along the passage until they stopped at the door the maid indicated. It wasn’t locked and opened with a gentle push. Why Gavriel or whoever was inside didn’t lock it was beyond him. Was it a trap?
He waved the torch in to illuminate the room. It was a bedroom, quite a lavish one. The bed alone looked to be worth more than some houses in the Clans. However, he couldn’t see anyone inside. He slowly stepped inside and tried to find signs of someone hiding. Erik moved to the bed and tapped Ivano on the arm. He motioned to underneath the bed. There was enough room for someone to hide underneath.
Both reached the end and toppled the bed to one side. Five people lay underneath; a man, a woman and three small children. The fire shone oddly against their deep red hair, a colour endemic to the south of Bebbezzar. All wore expensive white nightgowns except the man, who wore some sort of leather armour. They looked at Ivano and Erik, then at their weapons.
“Gavriel?” Ivano asked gruffly.
The man nodded meekly, raising his hands over his head. “Please, don’t hurt my family. I’ll pay anything!”
Yeah, this definitely isn’t him. Still, at least we can get out of here.
“All I want is you.” Ivano reached forward and picked him up. “Your family should start running if they don’t want to be caught.”
He looked to his wife, a middle-aged woman of relatively non-descript appearance. “Go. Get them out of here.”
Her eyes were filled with fear for Gavriel and hatred for the Clansmen. Ivano didn’t care for her hatred, he had other things to worry about. She picked the children up and ushered them to the door. Gavriel patted their heads as they ran from the room. Each gave a final glance before they disappeared from sight. No one spoke until their footsteps had disappeared completely.
“What do you want from me?” Gavriel’s hands picked at his fingernails. “I haven’t sent anyone in your lands. I’ve been keeping them back. I thought we had a deal!”
Ivano raised a brow. “With who?”
Now it was Gavriel’s turn to look confused. “Arnkel, Chief of the Fire Blade Clan. We met in secret and we organised a peace deal. We would leave each other alone. In fact, he mentioned something about trade.” Gavriel weakly smiled. “Some of the Clansmen have some very interesting things to trade. We prefer money over war, war is expensive. If-”
“Nevertheless, you need to come with us.” Ivano pulled him towards the door.
“Am I going to die?” Tears began to well in his eyes.
Ivano hesitated. “Not…Not if I can help it. But you’ll improve your chances if you cooperate.”
“I…I understand.” Gavriel held his head low but followed his instructions. Erik took the lead back down the passageway while Ivano stood behind him with his axe ready.
Is Gavriel actually speaking the truth? That Arnkel is actually trying to turn to the Clans away from war? More damn questions…
“Do you have a coat?”
“What?”
“A coat.” Ivano patted his shoulder with the shaft of his axe. “It’ll be very cold where we’re going. Do you have one in here?”
“Yes.”
Gavriel pointed to one of the rooms they passed. Erik opened the door and stood back with his axe and shield raised, expecting a strike. When none came he ventured inside.
“You need to see this.” Erik peeked his head back out.
Ivano held Gavriel with one hand and looked inside. The room was filled with thick heavy coats and pants, all immaculately made, but clearly made for war. Metal plates covered most of the vulnerable sections and extra leather protected the less vital sections.
“Get a set.” Ivano looked to Gavriel. “You were preparing for war, weren’t you?”
Gavriel looked even more nervous. “Part of the agreement was that we needed to be ready to advance to take out another clan if they got too dangerous. But after this I can see why…”
I need to have a word with Arnkel when we’re done with this.
Erik handed him a set of the winter gear. Gavriel sighed and held it close to his chest. He knew that he wouldn’t be seeing his home for some time, if ever.
Once outside Ivano brought Gavriel to a halt once again while Erik travelled towards Arvid and Arlid. They seemed to be okay, both twins were standing, while Dyri appeared to be slowly roused from his unconscious state. Thankfully the Knight creature remained dead on the ground. Gavriel said nothing when Ivano gripped him hard on the neck and pointed his head towards the slain Knight creature.
“Can you explain where you got this…Thing?”
“I can’t.”
Ivano squeezed even harder. “Try.”
“I can’t because they’ll kill me if I do.”
“You actually bought something like this?”
“They said it would keep me safe! That they couldn’t be beaten. I saw it fight against twenty armed men and it didn’t fail. And yet four of you could.”
“Who said this though? And, just so you know, you’re starting to become bloody annoying, and I’ve barely known you for more than a few moments…”
“The Church,” Gavriel said weakly. “The Church of the Holy Father. They came to me, needing money, and offered me this is return.”
“The Church needed money? How many cathedrals do they need?”
“I paid them good money for this. They said it was one of a kind and it would keep me safe from heretics and evil men. For all the good it did me.”
“You don’t even see it as a human…”
“You don’t understand what that thing was like to have around.” Gavriel shook his head. “You didn’t hear it when it slept. How it cried and whimpered all night. How it tried to eat. And there was just this strange feeling that washed over you when it stood near it for too long. My wife couldn’t stand it…I don’t blame her.”
“You didn’t have this the last time I was here.”
Gavriel looked confused. “We’ve only had him since the end of the last winter. Worst decision I’ve ever made.”
Thank the gods they didn’t have more of these things. We wouldn’t have made it into the city even if there were ten of these on the wall.
“Second worst decision, actually.”
“What?”
“When I agreed to have my brother exiled.” Gavriel shook his head. “He was the one who knew things about war and business. I just know business…and not that well it seems.”
Ivano pushed Gavriel forward. “What was his name?”
“Duran.” Gavriel seemed equally ashamed and saddened to say his name. “My brother and best friend. Until he went strange after his wife disappeared. Then, just a few days later, this red-headed woman and her daughter-”
“He’s still alive!” Arvid yelled to Ivano.
Ivano pushed Gavriel forward. Dyri did not look good. His broken limbs looked very bad, though they looked could be healed with time, maybe he would swing an axe again. But the amount of blood leaking from him was very dangerous.
“Can we move him?” Ivano asked.
“Not very far, or fast,” Arvid replied. “Most of the wounds have stopped bleeding though. So as long as he doesn’t get any more we should be able to get him back to the camp in one piece…”
Arvid looked at Ivano. He wondered if Ivano wanted Dyri to live.
“Bring him. Enough people had died today, all for this one.” Arvid and Arlid threw him an odd brow. “And for treasure.”
“Speaking of.” Arlid coughed painfully. “Are we going to get any gold? I was hoping to celebrate in Brennigr. It’ll be the first time I’ve slept with a woman in a long time.”
“That goat doesn’t count?”
Arlid hit his brother. Erik chuckled at the sight, the first time he had since Ivano had met him. As Erik leant down to pick up Dyri a terrific crashing sound came from the north. Several large wooden buildings, heavily engulfed in flames, collapsed. Ivano heard screams emanating from nearby buildings as they started to collapse.
“Let’s go. I’m sure that Dyri will be more than grateful and give us a little bit more of the haul.”
Another loud set of screams came from the north. This wasn’t like civilians being cut down or captured. This was Clansmen dying. Ivano ushered them towards the busted wooden gate while he raced up the stone steps. From the top, he could just make out the forest to the north of the city. Hundreds of tiny lights moved through the forest towards Thessos.
They’re getting really good. Once they start attacking us in the mountains, rather than just swatting us away, there’ll be nothing left of us. We need to fix the Clans before it’s too late. If we don’t we won’t survive another generation, maybe two if we’re really lucky. All our history and our people…gone…
Ivano raced to catch up, continuously pushing them forward and ignoring the questions or orders of the other Clansmen until they reached the safety of their camp.