Throne of Scars (24 page)

Read Throne of Scars Online

Authors: Alaric Longward

Tags: #BluA

BOOK: Throne of Scars
12.19Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

The two remaining jotuns below grew to their full height. One held a shield the size of a horse, and he charged to meet the attack of Cosia’s gorgon horde. A line of fire cut across the jotun, but dissipated, the beast impervious to flames. A lightning bolt left the hand of Yris, and Dinin shot a bow at the jotun. The arrow ripped into the beast’s face, and he went berserk. The jotun’s battleax cut down a gorgon, bits of skull and snakes flying in an arch. He kicked another into a heap of chainmail and bleeding flesh, and rammed his shield at three gorgons, who crashed, broken around the room after a brief, brutal flight. He charged at Cosia, but cleverly swerved away from his charge, and split Yris’s chest instead. The poor sister of Cosia had been releasing a spell, which spewed icy death across the floor, killing a gorgon, leaving her a gleaming statue.

Yris fell in two bloody pieces.

Three gorgons charged the other Jotun, who snapped a finger and threw a thick magical net at them, imprisoning them. He laughed brutally, the sound reverberating across the Silver Mount and then he stomped them into pulp, cursing and spitting at them. Dozen arrows rained down on him as he did and he roared with rage, looking for the attackers.

Cosia screamed and dozen more gorgons rushed in, hefting bows and spears.

“So, this is the best she can do, eh? Must have really trusted you would distract me, my sweet human,” Eris said harshly. “Thought you’d try to crush my skull. No, no, she underestimated us both.” She extended her hand towards the mace-wielding jotun, who handed her a wand. She grinned at me briefly, and slammed the wand to her other palm, and it changed into an arm-length black rod, with a silvery head of a goblin. She pointed it at Cosia, who instinctively looked up, and rolled away. Lightning slapped down where she had stood, spattering pieces of marble and stone, killing several of the gorgons. My ears rang. A multicolored sphere surrounded Cosia, and the jotun with the shield charged her, having unsuccessfully chased Dinin.

Cosia cursed, her eyes darting from the jotun to Eris, and to me. She released a spell. It was a hugely draining one. She grimaced and flicked something at the jotun. A glowing stone flew in the air, glittering in the light and the jotun blocked it.

The shield exploded into pieces. 

The jotun roared, terribly wounded, his arm hanging in tatters. He tottered forward, taking arrows and spears from the gorgons, one of whom he smashed into pulp. He reached Cosia and rammed the tip of his his ax at her. The spell sphere blocked the strike, but the jotun fell over her, cursing bitterly, and they rolled on the floor together. Cosia was finally trapped as the jotun fell dead over her. She was pushing at the corpse, the last jotun was rushing unstably for her, holding a trident, and Eris was pointing the rod at Cosia.

Let her die,
the voice in my head told me.
She was evil. The vilest creature in Svartalfheim I had had the displeasure to meet. She lied and had used me, and her lies were as frequent as the smell of shit in a shitter.

Shannon.

She was my only chance to save Shannon. To retrieve the Horn.

And so I prayed to Odin, should he be out there and listening to such prayers and able to answer them, and I called for the fiery whip. It would be useless against the jotuns. They were dark things like Thak, fierce fire jotuns and near impervious to fire.

But Eris wasn’t impervious to fire.

She didn’t know what I could do. Couldn’t possibly guess. She could kill me in an instant, but not then, when she was preparing to kill Cosia, and if I was at all lucky, she had no defense against magic, only physical harm.

I felt the weapon burn down to the floor. I lifted the thing, and struck down.

White bits of snakes flew in all the directions. I saw brains, teeth, and flesh burning, then the railing breaking in a silvery shower, and Eris toppled forward to the floor below.

Ruugatha. The throne-keeper had been toppled.

Silence.

The jotuns were still, standing around me. The mace weighed a ton on my shoulder.

Below, shrill screams of victory. Cosia was standing up, looking up at me with fury, despite her great, unexpected victory.
Had I failed her? Almost. I had wanted to
. But there was still Shannon to fight for, and so I stood there, still alive, and hoped she would keep her word. I felt the mace lifting high above me. I looked up to see the jotun, hate burning in his eyes. After the Queen was dead, mercy was the norm. No more deaths were necessary.

The jotun would not respect the law.

He’d fight for the fallen still. And that decision would take my life. The other jotun backed off.

I heard a roar.

The jotun’s head rolled past me, the mace fell to the stone floor. The other jotun turned in horror, and screamed and fell on his knees, then his face. Kiera stood behind him and looked me in the eye, her blade red to the hilt with the jotun’s life blood.

I turned and saw Thak, his sword also bloodied, an apologetic look on his face.

“Bring him to the Queen!” Cosia shrieked, and walked to sit on the Silver Throne.

I pointed a finger down at Cosia as I spoke to Kiera. “You worked with
her
? Aided her in her filthy plan?”

“Yes,” she said sadly. “There was only
one
plan, Ulrich.”

“One? What do you mean?” I hissed. “One plan? The plan was to get to Scardark. We had to get there in three days.”

She nodded. “Yes, and no. We always meant to come here. We needed that throne to make it inside Scardark. You will see.”

I spat at the floor before her in rage. “Was I always meant to kill Eris?”

“Yes, she had to die. And you had the best chance,” she said simply.

I cursed. “And you still won’t tell me everything?”

She shook her head. “The dragon. It might—”

“You did well,” Thak said, and then I knew he had been the lizard outside the window. “Now we have a chance. Despite the near disaster in the tunnels, we made it.” He placed a gigantic hand on my shoulder. “Shannon’s love for you has not diminished, Ulrich, even if she didn’t trust you with the full plan. She only told Kiera, anyway. She thought you might refuse to help.”

I shook my head, and rubbed my temples. “Cosia said she knows the plan. And you have been tricking me. You fell and I thought you had died.”

Thak placed a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry. We nearly did die. But you survived, Cosia obeyed her orders, and we arrived to help her just in time. We made it. It was close, but we made it. Now we have to move on.”

“How will this get us the Horn from—” I said, but Thak pushed me towards the stairway.

“Forget the Horn,” Kiera said. “Go down—”


Forget
the Horn?” I asked her, incredulous.

“Our road is just beginning,” she said softly. “We are only at the beginning. The hard part—”

“I just killed someone I
liked
!” I yelled.

She nodded. “I know.”

I didn’t let go. “What did you poison me with? It smells of Hel, Eris said.” She didn’t answer and I pushed her.

She had an enraged look on her face. Then she slapped me. Hard. I fell against a pillar, my neck nearly broken. She appeared before me and grasped my face. “I love you. I do. But go down there. And remember your oaths. Remember why you are doing this. No matter what lies you have endured. Nothing changes as far as the ultimate goal. Shannon needs you.”

I stared at her with fury. I pushed past her and walked down. I navigated corpses, and saw the last jotun bleeding on the side, riddled with arrows and spears, a pair of gorgons over it, arguing over some delicacy they were trying to cut off its face. Eyes? Nose? I cared not.

Soon, I stood before Cosia, who was glowering at Thak and Kiera who were following me. There was blood and entrails all over the place, and a small fire was raging by a table and a couch, where a mat was being devoured by blue flames. There were moans and screams, as the new Queen took her glorious place. Outside, all across the city was the odd cacophony of sounds. Horns and flutes were playing, announcing the successful Ruugatha. There was a feast taking place. Gorgons were celebrating.

Cosia was not in a jubilant mood, despite having reached her long-time goal. She pointed a long nail at me. “You succeeded. Barely,” she said thinly.

“No thanks to you,” I spat. “Lies upon lies. Thak and Kiera?”

She looked down at the mess, and raised an eyebrow. “We meant to come here—”

“I know!”

She slammed a hand on the throne. “Silence.” The word held a spell, and I went quiet. “Half of the quest is done. Ban’s and Stheno’s troops nearly stopped us, but not quite. Shannon, Ulrich dear, thought it best you shouldn’t know the truth, because there was no point, because of the dragon. Now stop complaining. It’s done. Now we shall deal with the other half of the war.”

“They said,” I hissed, nearly unable to speak, “everything’s as it should be. I’m not happy. Itax—”

She pointed at the door, where I saw the svartalf bowing. He gave me a weak grin.

“He is here to help us,” she said with a bored voice. “Stop making a scene. You will be needed now, more than ever.”

“And will you tell me what will happen?” I asked her bitterly.

“You will have to kill again,” she grinned. “As you have.”

“And the Scepter?” I asked, feeling such rage I had never felt before. “The Horn?”

“We’ll take them,” Cosia agreed and leaned forward. “But first, you will have to kill. Will you keep your bargain?”

“Yes, for now,” I said, not sure I would, but I’d be a fool to tell her. “How will I get in?” I asked her. I looked at Kiera and Thak. “How will
we
get in?”

I felt a hand slap across my mouth. Itax smiled over my shoulder and I fell into darkness. I heard Cosia speak. “Only one way in. Just one. Through the Chain Tents. That’s the only way you get in to Scardark. As a fighting slave. Fight well, and don’t give up hope.”

 

BOOK 4: SCARDARK

 

“Remember what she was, not what she is now. Oath is above all else. Even personal unhappiness.”

Thak to Ulrich

CHAPTER 12

T
he ship was surprisingly quiet. There were dull thuds, and a steady splash of oars, though I could see nothing of what was happening above deck. I was crammed inside a cell, and there was—again—a long chain around my wrists. The chain stretched through the bars and was probably attached to the other chains that hung from the many other cells in sight. Most of the cells were filled with svartalfs. They were in three layers and I heard movement above. Chains rattled left and right and the jingle made my head ache. At some point, the ship rocked for a long time, navigating some underground part of the river, and the jingling racket grew in volume. Apparently we had entered a hazardous part of the river. Every so often I heard warning shouts and there were moments when the ship shuddered as its hull scraped the bottom. On one occasion the ship actually got stuck on rocks. The bottom scraped on stone with a metallic screech, until the oars eventually pulled us out.

I rubbed my face, trying to think.

They were sending us inside Scardark as
Pit Fighters
. As fighting slaves.
The only way in
, Cosia had said.
Had they lied to me in Himingborg?

Yes.
They had a plan, it had to be kept safe and I had no defenses against the dragon. More, they knew I would have been disgusted by the murder of Eris. To murder a fine Queen
for Cosia
was a filthy act. Shannon had made a deal with her enemy, and I had sealed it. I felt bile rising in my throat, then anger and I banged at the bars
. Yes, they lied to me.
They misled me, at the very least. That bastard Itax, Shannon as well, had deceived me. Thak, and Kiera as well. “All they see is the surprise I can serve their enemies. They do not see a friend,” I muttered to myself.

Eris.
She had just … died.

I cursed softly. I’d murdered her. And
still
they wouldn’t tell me what was to take place in Scardark? How would we escape before I was thrown into the Pit—whatever it was—and how would we find a way to snatch the Scepter?

I rubbed my hands across my legs, and winced with the pain in my chest. I felt blood dripping inside my armor and tunic, wetting it, and cursed that as well. They had dressed me in my fabulous new armor. There was no sword, though.

A shadow moved and a svartalf kneeled before me.

He squinted, trying to fathom if I was awake, and satisfied with the discovery that I was, he walked off, laughing with someone I didn’t see.

I groaned, and held my head, and found a pail of water next to my cell on the floor. I stretched my hand through the bars and brought a handful of water to my face and gulped some of it down.

Then I coughed, retched and vomited. It was rancid piss.

“Hey, don’t do that,” said someone above me, laughing. “They save it. They use it for dyes and such. Some say they use it for crafting magical artifacts. And it’s not very good, is it?”

“Woden’s ball hair,” I wept, holding my throat, gagging. “Shit.”

“Ah, don’t worry. No shit, only piss. You’ll drink something better soon,” the voice above said. “They’ll feed and water us all before the final dance. Just like prime cattle. For now, drink your tears. It’s all you get until we’re given the Black Feast.”

“Damned Black Feast,” I spat. “A last meal, right? Don’t coat it in sugar or make it sound like it’s an honor.”

“Fine,” he said, chortling. “A final bit of chow for the doomed. A meal for the dead, do you prefer that? Cheer up, friend. And it is an honor, indeed.”

I banged my fist on the ceiling. “Damn such honors. A meal for the dead, that’s what it is. And for your information, I’m not in a cheerful mood,” I growled. “I’m
not
looking forward to a last meal. I planned on having that far in the future.”

“Future?” he chuckled. “Your future begins just a breath from now. Don’t be a weepy boy. That will ruin it for the rest of us. Like a fart at a wedding. Try to fight with honor.”

I gazed around. “Screw your honor, again,” I muttered and drew a final chuckle from the pragmatic pit fighter on top.
Where the hell are Thak and Kiera?
I wondered. I wasn’t so sure I’d enjoy their company, not at all, but perhaps they could finally fill me in on what was taking place, and more,
why.
Shannon’s life in Aldheim was at stake, she faced a terrible foe about to crush her and it all hinged on us getting smuggled in as Pit Fighters?

“Shit, Shannon, you bitch,” I cursed. And Kiera. Kiera, whom I cared for, in some strange way, could not break her cursed connection to Hel. She wouldn’t even hint at what I was to face. Or Thak, the block of loyalty.

Why
had they not told me more? Even just a
bit
more.

I rubbed my face. Was it my fault? Perhaps Shannon had planned to tell me more. And then I had complained I’d not kill an innocent, that I was unhappy with Hel, made demands on her and she had changed her plans.

She knew I’d have to be in the dark to serve best.

Yes, possibly.

I looked around, and across to the other shadowy prisoners. I saw feet, a hand playing with the chains. Thak could be anyone of them, if he was there at all. And he wasn’t about to show himself. So I frowned and sulked, thinking about the mess. The ship was swaying gently now, the noise of the chains less, and I could hear water trickling somewhere near. The oars were making a steady splashing noise. There were no waves, only the soothing sound of rushing and trickling water outside. Occasionally, like a distant echo, I heard people walking the deck, then some lazy shouts. Finally, I sat up with recognition. One voice was demanding something imperiously. I knew the voice.

Itax
. It was Itax’s ship. The bastard was nearby.

Shannon had bought him. Was
I
part of the price?
No, she wouldn’t go that far,
I told myself, but in
my gut, I wasn’t so sure. “Screw them all,” I cursed again.

“You are feeling miserable, no?” the voice above asked.

“You have a talent, my friend, for the obvious. Where are we going?” I asked and intercepted his answer. “
Scardark,
yes, but do you know more? This Vastness and—”

He rapped his fingers on the floor me to calm me. “Shush! Vastness, aye. The golden heart of the Below. It is our home, the Land of the Eight Cities. There we were born, there we die, and gods know where we will go after that. We will amuse the kings and queens of Scardark, make a suitable performance for the gods, the nobility of the Scardark, the kings and the queens of the mighty city and the allies. We’ll make her vileness, Stheno, smile. If the battle is mighty and the fighters valiant, the gods will favor Scardark. If the battle is boring as an elder’s tale of his past, the city will lose. But I’m sure Stheno will make sure it will be interesting to the gods.”

“And will they sacrifice in Ban’s city, and the other two rebellious ones as well?” I asked. “Won’t they satisfy the gods just like Scardark does? Gods must be confused and tired after all that shit.”

“They will be confused,” he said gleefully. “But the pickings for the other cities are
thin
. Scardark and the Under Lord have the best access to the Dark Water, where we were put on sale. Ban might have to put
orcs
into the pits. A sad little sacrifice it will be, and we’ll win.”


You
will
die
!” I snorted. “And no god will decide an outcome of the war based on how we piss ourselves in some damned sweaty pit.”

He chuckled. “Well, sure. I see your point. But that’s the tradition. That’s how we do it. You will see. You’ll fight well, you know. No matter if we actually find the gods’ approval after the battle or not, you’ll roar and piss your pants and fight just like the rest of us. They will remember us like few others.” He chortled. “And who knows, I might live. One survives. If he doesn’t bleed out.”

I rubbed my face. “And who are you, then, cheerful one?”

“I? Szir. A citizen of Ban, servant to Giladn, and a humble servant of the—”

“The Dragon,” I said simply. “One of the fools they sent to fight in the tunnels, for reasons not known to them.”

He shifted above. “Guilty as charged. I got unlucky. The gorgons are apt at grabbing the ones who are not alert or stay behind to take a piss. Some of the boys dangling in chains,” he laughed hugely, “are
from
Scardark. Yet, when you enter the Chain Tents, you are no longer
of
something. You are a Pit Fighter. Now we are all brothers. What irony. But all the road is ironic, isn’t it? A joke to be enjoyed, no?”

“I have yet to find such a prerogative,” I sulked. “But you didn’t tell me where we shall arrive in Vastness. And how long will the trip take?”

“Not long. The Stone Run is a winding way under the rock,” he explained. “Weaves around and through long, dark tunnels, and you have to wait for the current to change at some point when another river joins it. You are a human? I saw them carrying you up. I bet you were a consort that fucked up, right? Are there such things in Aldheim? Rivers?”

“Rivers? I snorted. “Plenty of rivers. Seas. But it is different.”

“We’ll arrive in Scardark’s harbor, not too long from now. Don’t worry. You good with a weapon?” Szir asked dubiously. “
Any
good?”

I coughed, spitting the vile remnants of Szir’s piss from my mouth. “I was taught the sword. In fact, Cosia taught me.”

“The
new
Queen?” he laughed incredulously. “How—”

“Silence,” said a familiar voice.

Itax
.

He leaned on the wall, staring down at me and then squatted and smiled. “Welcome to the Bone Queen.” He frowned. “Oh! You look unhappy. No, this was unintended. You hate your cabin, eh? A mistake indeed. I’ll whip the chain master.” He tugged at my chains that stretched behind him. “I told him to give you the very
best
cabin. It’s the cage above you. More room to stretch.”

I stared at the bastard, and tried to grab his face through the bar.

But I grasped only air.

He stood to the side. His cursed magic ring was at play. He removed it, smiled and put it back on. He’d be elsewhere again. I cursed him under my breath and calmed myself with great difficulty. “I’d eat lizard’s shit if I could get you—”

“Lizard’s shit
can
be arranged,” he said darkly. “You tried piss already. Don’t ask for trouble.”

“Are you going to tell me the plan?” I cursed him softly, whispering. “What will happen?”

He smiled. “Tell you the plan? I didn’t tell you the plan the first time you asked. And see how well it went, eh? Your performance was
spot
on.”

“You—”

His hand shot through the bars and slapped my face. “Relax. No plan for you. I doubt I want to jinx it. Let us just say that you are like a scalp in a current. Abused, discarded, forgotten, lost, you will follow the river all the way down to Scardark, and your friend Thak will join you as you march through the gates. And you won’t be alone. There are others who will help you, and trust me on this: in the end, you’ll know what to do, won’t you? You’ll know very well. You did with Eris, though I have no doubt you thought about joining her.”

“I did,” I spat. “She was wise and a true queen.”

“Unlike Shannon?” he snickered. “Don’t answer. Your friend needs you. Patience.”

“Don’t have much of that. You see, I’m dying,” I said and poked my chest. “Some curse or magic of Hel’s. Something my
friends
did to me.”

He nodded. “Patience might help there as well. It might get healed? I guess you know there’s a reason for that wound?”

“I’m guessing you are going to hand me the Iron Trial soon, and expect me to use it,” I said. “My blood’s been tainted, and that’s why it’s so powerful. I will have a hard fight on my hands, eh?”

“See, you don’t need the full details,” he smiled. “You are doing just
fine
.”

I scowled at him. “I hate you.”

“I hate you too,” he answered cheerfully as he scratched his head. “Pretty soon we shall arrive in the Vastness. We’ll dodge the chasm and the Markudin, the bridge, and then, soon, the fight takes place.”

“Are we
actually
going into a fight?” I asked him, incredulous. “
How
will we get the Scepter? How will we steal it, while there’s Pit full of people trying to kill us?”

“We’ll get what we want,” he whispered. “Stop asking. Yes, you’ll go to the Pit. And that’s when you must do your best. Follow Thak and Kiera, and things will change for all.”

“Kiera? What will they—”

“Shh,” he said annoyingly, while keeping a finger over his mouth.

“We can’t possibly get the Scepter of Night from—”

He snarled. “Follow… Thak.”

I fumed. “One day, Itax, you’ll be less smug, you liar. I’ll make you squeak. You’ll be in my hands and I’ll roast your ugly skull.”

Other books

The Plantagenet Vendetta by Davis, John Paul
Loose Cannon by Sharon Lee and Steve Miller, Steve Miller
Moonlight by Hawthorne, Rachel
Farslayer's Story by Fred Saberhagen
Blitzed by Lauren Landish
Days of Your Fathers by Geoffrey Household