53

Before the Storm

‘S-sir! You may want to see this!’

Kristov watched by the ramparts, hand clutching at his spear till the knuckles ached.

There was a gathering outside. A pretty big one. A really big one. And this time, they had torches.

‘I don’t have to see it. I can hear it.’ Lieutenant Knox approached and stood at the edge, his sharp, eagle eyes looking down at the sea of bodies that squirmed in place. A strange mass of multicoloured, distinct individuals all forced together to create some incomprehensible blob.

They told him this could happen, but he became so complacent that he thought it impossible.

They trained him for this, and he wondered if it was enough.

There was no doubt that the training was hard, but he still managed to get through it, if only by the skin of his teeth. Everything afterwards was pretty smooth sailing. Some of the others took the job a little too far, pushing things too far just because they thought they could and no one could stop them.

He didn’t have the heart for it.

Three months he had been doing this. Three months of standing outside some nice-looking buildings and doing your best trying not to appear as someone that wants to be messed with.

He got pretty good at it. A hard enough stare and a furrowing of the brows was all that was needed to get people to think twice. Even then, it wasn’t hard to do given the average citizen of Savanti.

Good money for just being tall and looking tough, even though he never seriously hurt anyone before.

He hated fighting. He hated getting hurt. People like that don’t survive a minute in a place like Oldtown.

If the lack of food, disease or thugs didn’t get you, then the Serpents would. The Moonlight Serpents came for everyone, recruiting the ones they wanted and draining the rest of what little they had.

It always struck him as odd that they never had any snakes in their ranks, in spite of the name.

So what options did such a young man in a shitty town have? Join the serpents and become another gang member, or leave and find work elsewhere? So he left and found work west.

That’s when he ended up in Savanti with not a single coin to his name, and ran into Lieutenant Knox doing some recruiting. The Lieutenant took one look at him and asked if he wanted to try out for the Guild.

Given there were no better options available, he said yes, without question. From then onward, he trained Kristov in the ways of warfare, most of which had been forgotten given the days of standing outside important houses and taverns, and breaking up the occasional drunken altercation.

Now they stood together, watching and waiting.

‘Go inform the commander.’ It took Kristov a second to realise who the Lieutenant was talking to. He looked around, finding no one in hearing distance aside from the two of them. ‘Now!’ he yelled a final time.

His feet began moving before his brain knew what he was doing. He ran from the ramparts through the halls, past the barracks and the armouries and towards Commander Toulmonde’s office.

Was she there? He prayed to the gods that she was there.

The dual office doors stood before him. In any normal circumstance, standing here as anything lower than a sergeant was something to be scared of.

If you did everything right, you’d never have to be here.

Right now, he didn’t care, and barged right in.

She was fastening her scabbard to her hip, not even turning to see who entered.

‘Commander! The revolutionaries! They’re-’

‘I’m aware, Lance Kristov. Thank you.’

She knew. Of course she knew. How wouldn’t she?

After a moment to process, he gave her a deep nod and left. She didn’t even care that he didn’t salute.

Formalities go out the window once the real shit begins, he figured.

Now what? Back to the ramparts? Back to looking at the swelling mass of people waiting to break their way in and tear you apart?

He crossed the path of that black wolf he saw fight the commander the other day. Tall and sharp looking, with a huge black blade strapped to his back.

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A felinid in a hood and light armour walked alongside him, with careful steps that produced not a single sound.

The black wolf leaned on the window ledge, looking over the mob that writhed at the gates. Krisrov’s eyes caught the glint of white light flashing from the teeth of the wolf, as his face grew into a sharp smile.

‘Fucking finally. Just what I was waiting for.’

Fucking bastards, the lot of them.

Bunch of pricks wandering into their city and strong-arming everything to get what they want.

Why? Because they have the numbers? The training? The weapons?

That’s not strength.

This is strength.

The crowd roared around Mariss; writhing and pulsing, pushing forward without much consideration for what was in the way.

Even the drizzle didn’t affect them, though if it got any heavier, some would have to leave. The dyes were quite sensitive and would run as the wet touched them.

The wonderful Sister Ezria brought them together, finding purchase in a city built on corruption. And Mariss would push them onward, crushing all that stood in their way.

And what was in the way was the symbol of their oppression. A dull, grey building built like those of the symbols of oppression of time immemorial.

They’d do better without them. Without mercs. Without guards.

They could look after themselves. Without the threat of violence, they wouldn’t feel the need to steal, to hurt, to kill.

They didn’t need them, especially after what they did to her sister. They broke in and trashed her home. Why? Just because they attacked that shop owned by a statist aristocrat? Fuck them. It’s only property. No individual should be owning that shit, anyway.

And who hordes the most shit? That fucking peacock hiding in his Starlight Sanctuary. Another monument to their greed. The greed of the aristocracy that loved to push them down. How much money did he spend on that thing? How much could she have gotten if they had done the sensible thing and redistributed that money to the people?

That’ll happen no longer, because here they were; thousands strong. All ready to take back their hard work and put it back where it belongs: with the people.

And there was just one thing standing in their way.

The fine minds of the revolutionaries gathered at the front, working on the gate. A gate that would soon open itself to them, and allow them to be free. Except it was taking a little longer than she expected.

‘We can’t get in!’ one shouted from the front.

‘Why not?’ she yelled back.

‘The gate’s closed!’

‘Then open it!’

‘How?’

‘You...’ How did they open it? How do most gates open? Normally, you just push them open, but this one dropped down from above. ‘You just... lift it?’

‘We’re trying!’

‘Try harder!’ With all of them combined, they couldn’t possibly be beaten by a simple wooden gate. The thousands strong could lift mountains if they put their heart and soul into it.

‘I’m hurt! I’m hurt!’

Great. Their first casualty and they haven’t even started fighting.

‘What’s hurt?’

‘I broke a nail!’ Those working at the gate soon stopped to dote over their injured comrade.

‘I don’t think we can lift it, sister.’

‘Then fucking burn it!’ She snatched a torch from a revolutionary by her side and brought it to the wooden gate, holding it up to the wood of the obstacle in the way of their progress.

If you can’t break it, then burn it.

She waited.

And waited.

And waited.

She swore it never took this long to burn things before.

And the torch went out.

‘What the fuck?’ she yelled.

Wood burns. This was one of the fundamental laws of the world. Here, for some reason, it didn’t. Why?

Did the wood support the current establishment? What the fuck? Fuck this. Fuck wood. When they build their new utopia, all wood shall be burned.

Something barged past her, almost knocking her to her feet. Something in heavy robes, and the crowd seemed to split as it walked through.

The people didn’t notice. They just cheered and sang and screamed and chanted as this thing moved through.

Then from the dark robes spawned another.

And another.

And that one spawned two.

And those spawned two more.

And more and more till an uncountable number moved to the walls, where their hands took purchase, and began their ascent.

‘This is just embarrassing.’

‘Go easy on them. They’ve never been in a real battle before.’

‘You think they’d learn a thing or two beforehand. Who the fuck does that? Just run into a battle headfirst and hope the numbers alone take care of it?’

‘You’ve been at this longer than I have. You full well know the answer.’

‘Yeah. You’re right. And it still surprises me every time.’ Ludgar huffed and leaned his head against the window. ‘Gotta admit, I was getting a little excited. Got my hopes up for nothing.’

‘You never know, they could still surprise you.’ Kathiya watched one try to set fire to the damp portcullis. ‘Hmm. Maybe not.’

‘This is what happens when they’re given free rein everywhere else, then come up against something with even a minor form of resistance. Guess we’ll just wait till they get bored and leave.’

‘Don’t speak too soon. Look!’ Kathiya pointed out towards the portcullis. It was hard to tell exactly what it was she pointed at, between the weaving curtain of drizzle, the panicking guards, and the chaotic mass of weapons, torches, and people that stood at the other side.

It was hard to see against the grey brickwork, but it was there. Like watching a shadow move along the roof at night. A patch where the grey became darker than normal. It slithered up along the wall and over the ramparts.

Then up went another, and another. Soon, shadows swarmed their way into the gatehouse.

‘Looks like things are going to get a lot more interesting.’ For Ludgar, it only lasted a single moment, but the shadow looked back, the glint of silver visible through the haze of drizzle clouds. Ludgar hit his fist against the window.

‘That fucker!’

‘Who?’

‘Get your bow ready and tell the others to prepare themselves.’ He picked his blades up and affixed them to their appropriate positions: the smaller blade at his side and the large, dark one on his back. ‘I get the feeling that shit’s going to get really fucking messy really fucking quick.’

‘Right. On it. What’re you gonna do?’

‘I’m gonna go get some payback.’