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Summoned to a Shattered World
Birthright Chapter 9 - Ruin Atop Riches I

Birthright Chapter 9 - Ruin Atop Riches I

Sarinknell paced back and forth in the top floor of Xangro’s home/workplace, where they had a clear view of the rest of the town. “I’ve sent word to Tros. He’ll keep a discreet watch over us until my uncle arrives. Then he and his men will cut them off once my uncle’s troops storm the manor.”

“Then I guess all that’s left is to wait.” Sarinknell’s uncle didn’t keep us waiting long. A group of soldiers arrived outside the manor, picking their way through the grounds as we watched. At their rear was a broad-shouldered demon wearing a breastplate polished to a mirror sheen. He had two attendants by his side, bearing a collection of weapons and a shield between them, while the man himself was unarmed. Standing beside the window, I noticed Sarinknell wring her hands by my side. “Is that your uncle?”

“That’s right.”

The soldiers halted near the front door and Lord Sarinknell shouted, “Elmidath! Come out here at once!”

“Who’s Elmidath?”

Lady Sarinknell sniffed. “That’s my first name.” She opened the window and leant out. “Here I am!”

“What do you think you’re playing at? Come down here immediately!”

She shook her head. Her uncle stopped to curse before he continued shouting. “Then you leave me no choice!” He was issuing orders to his men, who were starting to fan out around the building when Sarinknell closed the window and backed away. “Looks like everything is going according to plan.” She smiled, expression warring between fear and exhilaration.

“There is a plan for what comes next, right?”

“Well… sort of. Essentially the idea is that we kill or capture Lord Sarinknell and then the rest of his men will flee or stand down.

I coughed. “There’s uh, really quite a lot of soldiers out there.” I’d counted at least a dozen or so. Not many in the grand scheme of things, but it was an awful lot of for the two of us to take on.

“I’m well aware. But it’s nothing we can’t handle. At least so long as Tros holds up his end of the deal.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Then we’re probably going to die. All we can do is hold out as best we can until they get here.”

I was all for simplicity, but I couldn’t help but feel like her plan could have done with being a little more complicated. Sarinknell continued, “Granted, we are outnumbered, but we do have the advantage of terrain. They’ll be forced to fight us single file while they climb up the stairs. It’s really the best conditions we could hope for.”

Those “best conditions” sounded pretty terrible, but there wasn’t much we could do to change that now. I held Shotensho up in front of me, unsheathed. “Ready for our first, and hopefully not last, battle?”

“I’m a sword,” said the blade’s voice in my head, “there is nothing for me to prepare.”

I didn’t really understand the point of having a talking sword if the sword didn’t have anything worthwhile to say. But far be it from me to criticize whoever had made the damn thing. “What was the plan if we hadn’t gotten Tros and his men to help anyway? I can’t see how this would work if it were just the two of us.”

Sarinknell looked away “…that’s a secret.” Her refusal to answer was damning. I knew she was reckless, but that was straight up insanity. I felt deeply grateful to Tros, if we got through this alive it would be thanks to him.

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“So, your first name’s Elmidath?”

“It is. Though you will not use it to address me, not if you know what’s good for you.”

We heard the sound of booted feet approaching long before they were close to reaching the top floor. Sarinknell took a deep breath and smoothed her clothes. “I’ll talk to my uncle and try to buy some time.”

She went to the window and was opening her mouth to speak when she dropped to the floor. A crossbow bolt hurtled through the air where she’d been standing, embedding itself in the wall behind her. Crawling back from the window, Sarinknell cleared her throat and got up. “I do believe they are done talking. Never mind then, we’ll just have to do this the hard way.”

There was a series of loud bangs on the door before it gave way with the sound of splintering wood. I waited near the top of the spiral staircase, just out of sight with Shotensho in hand. The first man who reached the top of the tower was in for a bad time. I didn’t know how competent Lord Sarinknell’s troops were likely to be, but I figured that between Elmidath’s ring and Shotensho’s ice we’d be able to hold them for a while. Along with whatever other magic Elmidath could manage.

Hearing the soldiers getting closer and closer, I brought my sword up to my shoulder, ready to swing down. A shield appeared at the top of the stairs, raised to protect its wielder’s head and upper body. I smote it with a powerful, downward strike. To my disappointment, the sword barely left a mark on the shield. I’d imagined it would cut right through it. But it did send the soldier stumbling back a few steps, where he crashed into whoever was next in line.

I held off on using Shotensho’s ice for now, it didn’t seem like something I could maintain for long. Best to save it for when I really needed it. I glanced back at Sarinknell to make sure she was ready to assist me. She nodded and I went back to watching the stairs. The shield bearer returned, it didn’t seem like I’d done them any great harm. Second time lucky? I waited a little longer this time and swung lower, aiming for the part of his body where the shield didn’t cover.

It connected around his hipbone, failing to cut through the flexible armour there. Could this sword actually cut anything? I wondered if it was defective. Still, the blunt trauma had been enough to send him to his knees. Though I wasn’t sure if it just from the force or from an actual injury. Shoved to the top by the man behind him, he stumbled aside and I forgot all about him as the other soldier rushed me.

Unused to using such a long blade, and swordsmanship in general, I was slow to recover. My opponent aimed a thrust at my abdomen. I managed to get the blade in the way, not quite a parry but it did mostly deflect the point. Instead of impaling me, the sword grazed my side. It was a painful cut, but in the moment, I didn’t even feel it.

He extended his shield, using it not to defend himself but to impair my sword. Before I could break free, he tried a cut at my head. I ducked, realising too late that it was only a feint. The horizontal cut changed into a vertical one, aimed at my shoulder. It tore into my flesh, glancing off the bone. That one, I felt.

I don’t know if it was adrenaline, my enhanced form, or some combination of the two, but the injury didn’t slow me down. It did, however, make my next two-handed blow one of the most painful things I’ve ever done. Free of his shield, I was still too close to use the blade effectively. Instead, I smashed my sword’s pommel into his face.

Reeling, he lashed out with his own blade before he’d recovered his footing. It raked across my chest, another graze. I really wished I had some of the armour my opponents were sporting, I was getting cut to pieces. Before the first man I’d downed could get up, Sarinknell brought forth the ring’s shield and used it to shove him back.

He tumbled half way down the flight of stairs, caching himself against the wall. For a moment it looked like he was going to re-join the fight, then he thought better of it and retreated. Already on the backfoot and realising he was now alone; the remaining soldier disengaged and hurried after his fellow with his shield up.

Not in great shape to pursue, I let them go. It didn’t sound like they were intending on attacking immediately, so I set my sword aside for a quick breather. We’d beaten back the first assault, but it hadn’t been easy. If they managed to gain a foothold in here, we were finished. “Any word from Tros?”

“None.” Sarinknell looked out the window. “No sign of him either. Hang on, I’ll try contacting him again.”

Concentrating, she whispered something into a duplicate of the same token she’d given him. A few seconds passed without anything happening. “Well? Did you reach him?”

“I’m not sure, there was no reply. Either Tros is ignoring us or my uncle is blocking us somehow.”

I sighed. Either one was disastrous.