Darius Chapter 21

Falsith and his men were having a tough week.

They returned to Erinstone not to the applause of their comrades and fawning of the finer-folk, but instead to the harsh punishment of criminals. They were labelled as deserters by their generals.

For the first night, they were contained to their barracks, their weapons and armor seized. Falsith tried to explain what had happened to anyone who would listen, but no one would hear him out. They knew better than to side against Layla Avongold.

In the morning, the news of Marth’s escape along with his men spread through the military, and each soldier felt the excitement of being drafted for the chase. For Falsith’s men, Marth’s escape in the night further condemned them, adding weight to the accusations.

When the whispers of Heldrus leaving the kingdom also began to churn through the rumor mill, Falsith knew that as the highest-ranking remaining member of The Bandit Executioners, he would be taking the brunt of the blame from here on out. Human nature was a fickle thing.

But he couldn’t believe that Heldrus would throw away his name and entitlement and position like that. He had to find out for himself.

For days, Falsith and his men were cast into cells beneath the training grounds. The murky cells were intended for prisoners during times of war. They had sand floors, and the bars at the front and back of the cell were covered in wispy thin barnacles that had somehow survived in the dank atmosphere. The men were yet to see their families.

Between sessions of ‘re-education’, Falsith and his men were given thirty-minute breaks from the barrages and beatings dealt out by General Arlington, their ‘lecturer’.

They were allowed out of their cells at that time to wander the outside world, but each soldier knew better than to try and leave Erinstone. They had all been barred access from the armory and stables, so any attempt at escape would have to be made without food, weapons or transport. With a search-and-retrieve team breathing down their neck, any attempt wouldn’t make it far.

Falsith used one of these half-hour breaks to make his way north to the Royal District. The guards recognized him and were hesitant to let him in, but they gave in, figuring he was no real threat without a weapon. They were wrong, but Falsith didn’t have violence on his mind today. Only answers.

He walked up the hill and knocked at the main door of the Avongold residence. A boy of about sixteen opened the door. He wore the clothes of a servant.

“Welcome to the Avongold residence, how may I help you?”

He held a calm demeanor as he looked over the ragged man before him.

“I’m looking for Heldrus Avongold. Has he been here recently?”

Falsith went straight to the point. He didn’t have much time before he was due back in his cell. The servant stepped back, leaving space to close the door.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Avongold is not available right now. You’ll have to come another time.”

He shut the door, not waiting for a response.

It was an odd reaction. Unless Heldrus was undergoing some kind of ‘re-education’ that was more serious than what his men were being put through, he should have at least heard from him by now.

As he stood outside the door, he noticed another sound – a sound like the explosion he had heard the day before, but a lot quieter. It was coming from inside the west wing of the castle, nearby.

He ventured closer to the noise, opening a small side door to the castle. He had to wait until the guard went off into the bushes to urinate. He had only been in the castle on a few occasions after particularly successful raids, or for his promotion to lieutenant. He left most of these events in a drunken state, so his surroundings were not familiar to him.

The noise carried along the corridors, echoing off the pillars and walls. He followed it to the source like a mouse following a scent to the kitchen, and before long, he could see the King’s Forge, with two Red Plumes standing outside. His mission to find Heldrus was well and truly replaced by this new curiosity.

He noticed servants going in and out of the Forge, carrying boxes of materials and weapons. A young boy was struggling with a carton of iron bars, so Falsith jumped in, helping him to lift it.

“Steady on, young fella, I’ll grab that for you.”

He hefted it to his chest easily. The boy led him into the Forge and pointed to where it had to go. The Red Plumes didn’t pay any attention to him – he looked closer to a slave than a servant.

The heat of the room was a stark contrast to the cell he had to return to – sweat immediately pricked up along his arms. He walked up to Darius while he was emptying a crucible into a mold that looked to be for a longsword.

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“Excuse me, are you Darius?”

Darius stopped mid-pour and looked at the shaggy man before him.

“I am. Pleased to meet you. Can I help?”

“Marth Ranvost told me you re-fitted his sword for him. Don’t you run the Royal Forge? Why are you here?”

Darius dropped the crucible in the forge and hung up the tongs on a hook nearby. He ushered Falsith to the back of the room where they couldn’t be seen.

“Is Marth okay? Have you heard anything about him? They haven’t captured him, have they?”

Falsith was taken aback by the rapid-fire questions.

“I – um, I don’t think so – I don’t think they’ve captured him, I mean. I fought with him against the bandits and then me and my men have been detained since we got back.”

“The bandits? Marth fought bandits? Why are you detained?”

Falsith tried to give Darius the short form version of recent events.

“Heldrus Avongold led my platoon against the bandits camping near the Great Road – Marth rode out to us to tell us that Layla Avongold was coordinating an attack on our camp – we won – when we got back, they treated us like deserters – Prince Ranvost left Erinstone and I think Heldrus did too.”

Darius almost fell over at the burst of information. All he did was get locked in a castle for a week and the world went mad.

“Okay, well my situation isn’t much better – but why are you here? I’m afraid I don’t recognize you.”

Falsith glanced back at the open door. The guards were still facing outwards.

“To be honest, I’m not sure. I was out looking for Heldrus but the sound of your hammering brought me here. It sounded like that ungodly noise yesterday afternoon. I’m Falsith, by the way, I was Heldrus’s lieutenant.”

A plan started to form in Darius’s mind.

“Look, Falsith, I know this is a tough ask, but it seems like you got in here pretty easy, how do you feel about helping get Bart and I get out?”

Falsith gave him a confused look.

“Get you out? What do you mean? I thought the guards were to keep people like me out, not keep you in.”

Darius shook his head.

“Unfortunately not. Lady Silfor has kept us locked up so we can make weapons for her. It’s hard to explain, but Bart and I can make weapons that are far more powerful than anything you’ve ever swung.”

Falsith liked the sound of that. He had a distinct relationship with his longsword.

“Interesting. If I get you out, will you make me one of these weapons?”

Falsith was keen for a bargain. Darius smiled at him.

“Mate, if you get us out, you can have the first one I ever made. She’s a beauty. I’ve left her in my quarters at the Royal Forge, behind the dresser in there. If you make it back here with it, just swing it into any of these walls and you’ll get a nice surprise, I’m sure.”

They shook hands, and Falsith grabbed an empty container to take out of the room. The guards gave him a funny look, realizing he’d been in the room for a long time, but they pushed no further. Once out of the castle, he cast away the container and hustled to the eastern door that would lead him to the Royal Forge. The door wasn’t guarded so Falsith just lifted the bar and walked out, leaving the door ajar.

The Royal Forges weren’t in great shape. With Darius gone, the apprentices and assistants that worked at the forge had nothing to do – there was no supervision – so they didn’t come to work.

Falsith poked around, looking for Darius’s quarters. He found the small room and heaved back the dresser from the wall. There was a thunk, and a pristine battle axe clattered sideways onto the ground.

Falsith picked it up it both hands. He felt a pulse of energy run through the handle and into his wrists. The axe felt alive in his grasp.

He exited the forge and headed back up the path he had arrived on. It was hard to be discreet with a giant magic axe in his hands, but he tried his best to hide it behind his massive frame, and carry it casually, as though such a thing was possible. When he came to the eastern door, it was shut. He gave it a light push, hoping that it was just the breeze that had blown the door shut. A gruff voice spoke through the door.

“State your business.”

Falsith froze. He tried to think on his feet.

“Uhhh, I have orders from Lady Silfor on the King’s command.”

The door stayed shut.

“What orders?”

It was just Falsith’s luck that the guard wanted to play hardball. He didn’t have time to wait. He was already so late returning to his cell that there was almost certainly a posse of soldiers searching for him. Luckily, they’d probably expect him to go away from Erinstone rather than deeper in.

He looked at the axe in his hands.

No time like the present.

He took a few steps back, giving himself a run-up. Lunging forward, the axe sailed into the door, and it didn’t disappoint.

The door didn’t sail off its hinges, the axe didn’t hack a hole in the wood, it just evaporated it. The guard was thrown fifteen meters back onto the grass, and the unmistakable sound of Darius’s magic rang out across the district.

Darius and Bart heard it in the forge, and they winced, knowing that Falsith had already broken his cover.

Falsith knew it too. He started sprinting towards the castle the moment that the initial shock went away.

He was powerful.

It wasn’t long before he encountered resistance. Guards rushed from the castle entrance, shouting battle cries as they ran towards the man with the axe. For Falsith, it was like facing the bandits, but with the weapon of a god in his hands. He swung the axe into the ground and the shockwave that blasted in front of him took them all off their feet.

When he estimated that he was around the point where Darius and Bart were, he took the path of least resistance, smashing a hole in the castle. It was like splitting a log. He jumped through the gap, careful of the falling pieces of rubble.

His judgement wasn’t bad. About ten meters further to his left was the King’s Forge, guarded by two Red Plumes. One of the men didn’t even put up a fight – just dropping his weapon and running the other way. The other brought his sword level with Falsith’s chest and charged, but Falsith’s reach with the axe dwarfed the shorter sword. Another Red Plume down.

He went into the Forge. Darius and Bart were packed and ready, both bringing nothing except the clothes on their backs and their hammers. Darius also pocketed a few of the explosive arrowheads, and Bart picked up a short sword they had made to test their capacity.

The trio ran out the door and headed west, away from the bulk of the carnage.

The escape was underway.