fate's pawn 24

 

Chapter 24

 

Kaz frowned to hear voices.

“We are about to have company,” she said.

“Yes, and the visitors don’t care who knows,” said Harkon.

Kaz sniggered.

“You had to shush us. These mountains reflect more sound than most people think.”

“Still, I wasn’t sorry that it flushed out some of our enemy from the bloodsucker’s people,” said Harkon. “What manner of folks are these, I wonder; adventurers of some kind, I imagine.”

Harkon stepped out.

“Halt! Who goes there?” he said. It was not loud, but his parade-ground voice carried.

The adventuring party had a couple of ponies with them. There were eight of them, well-armoured and weaponed, if rather mismatched in nature. They were all male, somewhat unwashed, and unshaven.

The leader sneered.

“Licking your wounds after the ghosties and ghoulies were too much for you, eh? You cult types are all alike, you talk a big talk but you can’t walk the walk, like that stoneless dickbrain from the Polosi. Unless you haven’t even had the stones to go in yet?” he laughed.

“Have you ever fought a bloodsucker?” asked Harkon, conversationally.

The other looked a little disconcerted.

“Well, how hard can it be, in daylight?” he scoffed. “You saw the bloodsucker and ran away, eh? We took the commission from the Polosi to do your job for you, since you weren’t able to.”

“Is that what you think?” said Harkon.

“If you had defeated them, you’d be laden with treasure,” said another adventurer.

“Why would we rob our own temple, you idiot?” said Kaz.

“I ain’t taking no sassy backchat from a stupid trogling,” said the second.

“Trógling,” said Kaz. “We cleared the undead. The temple is reburied until it is restored to glory. Pass on and see what you can find elsewhere, but do not touch the Temple of Alethos. It is not for desecration by a bunch of filthy sanctioned thieves.”

“Kill them!” said the number two. “Snotty little trogling, dares try to deny us our loot!”

Kaz’s sword cleared her scabbard and directly into a strike as he charged, war axe raised.

“Trógling,” she said.

The top half of his body fell one way, and after a brief pause, his running legs crumpled and fell the other way. Kaz had little time to reflect that this was the luckiest blow in her life, finding the gap in his armour, when the others attacked.

“Lucky strike! They’re all unarmoured, it’ll be a cinch!” cried the leader.

“Idiot,” said Harkon.

The young Alethosi were glad of the armour rings; and were hotly indignant about a treacherous attack. Harkon and Kaz were the spearhead, but three of the adventurers hung back and fired bows and crossbows. Harkon, as perceived leader, received the brunt of this attack, and Kaz admired how his whirling blade cut arrows and deflected crossbow bolts out of mid-air. She managed to deflect one arrow herself, but another buried itself deep in her shoulder. Kaz grunted, and did her best to ignore it. She heard Zon yell defiance and the twang of his crossbow, then he screamed once, and the scream cut off.

Kaz activated her ring of fire blade and advanced on those firing. The fire made it easier to at least set fire to arrows, deflecting their flight, though she knew her copying of Harkon’s technique was clumsy. She cut down one archer before he had the chance to change weapon, and took on the other two, one with a crossbow bolt in his leg.

Harkon took down three, and left the fourth to the others, springing over to help Kaz.

He removed the head of the one on her flank as she plunged her flaming blade into the body of the other, and toppled sideways herself.

Her right side was red with blood.

Harkon swore.

The adventurers were dead. The ponies had fled, which was unsurprising. Harkon picked up Kaz.

“Anyone else hurt?” he asked.

“Zon’s dead,” said Rynn, wide eyed in near disbelief.

“That’s why she charged those archers,” muttered Harkon. “Protasion... wounded?”

“A scratch, my lord,” said Protasion. “I’ll get the temple opened up again.”

“No, I’ll take this arrow out,” said Harkon. “Boil me water. If she lives through the night, then it may be time to go back to the temple. If she doesn’t....”

“I’ll take on her task,” said Rynn.

“She can’t die... she mustn’t,” said Lelyn.

“I’ll do all I can to make sure she does not,” said Harkon, grimly. “I don’t want to explain to Alethos that she was sore wounded on my watch.”

“Another time, you’ll post pickets and have a couple of people armoured at all times,” said Alethos, appearing, and taking Kaz into his own arms.

“Not dying. Hurting,” muttered Kaz.

“It’ll hurt more, dear one, when the arrow comes out,” said Alethos. “It won’t push through, your shoulder blade is in the way.”

“Put it on a charge and order kitchen fatigues,” muttered Kaz.

“There’s my girl,” said Alethos. “I’m getting instructions from my sister.”

“Nobody better,” said Harkon.

Kaz screamed once as he cut into the wound to grasp the arrowhead and pull it out, and Harkon was glad he had not had to do it.

“We didn’t provoke them,” said Protasion. “They were slinging insults, and Harkon was being cold and amused at them. He copies you, of course,” he added.

“My fault,” said Kaz, her voice slurring. “Called them idiots for thinking we would plunder our own temple.”

“They were spoiling for a fight,” said Harkon. “I hoped they might go away and try to ambush us by night, which would have given us more advantage. But that fellow... the one you see in two parts over there... was determined to take offence. He was in attack position and Kaz had her sword in the scabbard. She’s just better than he was.”

“Nice,” said Alethos, glancing at the body. “Part of me is dealing with them in the place of waiting; they give lip service to several gods. I won’t have them, so you had better stake them on death glyphs.”

“Yessir,” said Protasion, beckoning Lelyn, Kuros, and Evgon to help him with that.

“Zon... you have Zon?” asked Kaz. “I’m responsible for him....”

“Zon wants to bind to you as a spirit helper,” said Alethos. “Torval still wants to come with you, Harkon....”

“I was tempted to ask him to guard the temple, but I thought someone of greater power should do that,” said Harkon. “I would willingly have my brother’s spirit at my side. I never thought of it.”

“We’ll see about that when Kaz is stronger,” said Alethos.

He waved his hand, and he, Kaz, Harkon, and Rynn were in the temple. Kaz put her hands to her ears at a rushing sound.

“It’s a bit less messy now,” said Alethos. “I’ll let Pythas know you did the job but that the Polosi owe us a fine for sending out another team to attack ours after they demanded that a team be sent to deal with the undead.”

“I doubt they sent them out to attack us,” said Harkon.

“No, I don’t suppose they did, but the onus is on them to prove why they picked such a villainous bunch of scum who did,” said Alethos. “The Knights of the Clear Starlight need to be knocked back from time to time; they’re a bit self-satisfied. Kaz will be fine; I’ve healed all the damage, and she will be back on her feet tomorrow. And wanting to practice arrow cutting, I have no doubt.”

“Would you still love me if I had died?” asked Kaz.

“Always and forever,” said Alethos, kissing her forehead, and brushing her lips with his. “My resourceful love who launders vampires.”

Kaz sniggered sleepily, buried her face against him, and went to sleep, dribbling into his lap.

 

 

oOoOo

 

The Librarian of Polos was a trifle put out to be sent for by the Commandant of Alethos, as if he were some minion, and tried to say so when he got into Pythas’s study.

“Don’t even dare to confuse the issue, you worm!” snarled Pythas. “Did you or did you not come to me with a request which was close to a demand that I send people to deal with undead in an abandoned temple in the Ghostlands?”

“I... well, yes, you people are supposed to be the experts in dealing with the undead,” said the Librarian. His voice came out as something of a squeak. Pythas was plainly furious. The Librarian’s pallid skin, an unhealthy shade from too many hours crouching over papers, went an even more unhealthy shade as Pythas rose to his feet and leaned towards him, eyes blazing.

“And yet, within a few days of asking for that, you hired another team with orders to murder my people if they could catch them unarmoured to steal any loot. Loot which belongs to my god’s temple!” his voice rose to a controlled bellow. His face was two inches from the Librarian’s.

“I... no, it wasn’t like that!” squeaked the librarian. “I... Kyros and his brother, Lethos, and their group heard about the abortive attempt, and volunteered to go and get what they could if we would outfit them! They were to have assisted your men....”

“And yet, after my men had successfully cleared out the bloodsucker, his acolytes and minions and the skeletons and zombies, and were resting before returning, your secondary group fell upon them for refusing to permit them to loot their own temple,” roared Pythas. “How would you like it if I send some of my lads over to loot your temple, eh? ANSWER me!”

“I... but our temple is consecrated! You cannot do that!” squealed the Librarian.

“And my priest who dealt with the bloodsucker re-consecrated our temple in the Ghostlands in order to drive out all vestiges of chaos!” bellowed Pythas. “What, is looting more important to you than the destruction of chaos and undeath?”

“N... no, no, of course not!”

“And so I should hope, or you would be in sore need of praying all night to your god for guidance!” said Pythas.

“I... when they return, I will see that they are chastised, and a goodly portion of their loot turned over to the families of those they killed...” stuttered the Librarian.

Pythas sneered.

“They won’t be coming back,” he said. “They met my people unarmoured when they were armoured and prepared, but they met Alethosi who are dangerous whilst they still breathe and have one limb active. Probably my rune-lord priest could have taken them by himself, but he was backed by an initiate and seven lay members. One of those lay members is my daughter. If she had been harmed more than the scratch she took, you would be facing me in a duel. They did kill one lay member, who sought to aid the initiate. And for that, I fine you eighty sols.”

“But... but it was not my fault that they decided to attack.”

“No? What did you say to them? That they could take such loot as they could find? Scum like that interpret such orders as also killing any parties which went before them, and stealing what they won. What my people won was another temple, and I’ll be sending people there to man it.”

“I... I will pay,” said the Librarian.

“So I should bloody think,” said Pythas. “I don’t want to waste time taking this through the court of Solos, but I will, if I have to.”

The librarian paled still further. Pythas reflected that if he lost much more colour, he would become as transparent as a ghost.

“It will not be necessary to trouble the illustrious Solosti,” said the Librarian. “Might I pray for the soul of your lost member?”

“No need; he is with Alethos,” said Pythas. “We have no doubt about our fate after death. Gladly we tread the sombre roads of the underworld for our lord and god. You may go.”

The Librarian turned and left.

Pythas smirked when he overheard the Librarian mutter something about Alethosi being a cheerless bunch of buggers even when alive.

The demanded wergild would not replace the unfortunate trógling in the hearts of Kaz and her friends, but it was the principle of the matter.

The news that his extraordinary group had also managed to clear the ghosts from the ghostlands and set up a temple on the road across the Ghostplane somehow surprised him less than perhaps it ought to do.

He would send orders for stone to be cut and taken there, ready to be used for construction.

And he ordered the name ‘Zon, a trógling’ to be added to the temple’s roll of honour of those who died doing their duty, and prayed for forgiveness that he was glad it was not Lelyn’s name there instead.

The love of Alethos, and the depth of understanding washed over him; and Pythas wept for the trógling youth he had not known well, whose life was cut shorter than it should have been.

And then he called for a song for Zon in the refectory, with wine, to remember him defending the one mentioned in prophecy.

And that was not something to tell that fool Librarian about.