Darkness and Steel Read online

  Nadav closed his eyes and allowed his arms to hang limply at his sides while he tried to find a center within himself. He had never tried anything like this before, and to his knowledge, neither had any Loszian necromancer. He heard words in the wind in his voice. It was as if his lips moved of their own accord and the wind carried them across the ruins. The spell was common; all Loszian necromancers knew it, for it contained the words that animated a dead corpse. As he spoke, he felt a new strength spill forth from deep within him, and he raised his arms to the stormy heavens as his words boomed in the clouds above. His words ended as quickly as they began, and Nadav stood wordlessly as he awaited some response.

  Frustration built for just a moment as Nadav thought he had failed, but then he heard the faint sound of stone scraping stone from below. Others answered the first sound, and then the catacombs below were abuzz. In addition to the scraping, which had begun to subside, he could also hear the light sounds of shambling feet. A figure came into view below – it was a skeleton that Nadav thought was of average height for a Westerner, but from above it was difficult to be sure. More skeletons began to appear from the gloom. All of them wore armor in various conditions, and some carried antiquated, rusty weapons. There were also those who still had flesh clinging to their bones in varying amounts, entombed Dahken who had been particularly well preserved in their resting places.

  Careful to be sure that he didn’t lose his balance, Nadav lowered his face to the ancient opening to gain a wider view of the walking dead below. Those in the light stood still, almost as if they looked to him for a command, while others continued to come closer. He began to count, but found it difficult as more and more came into the light that was already beginning to dim. Useless rock, Nadav thought, irritated. As the light failed, Nadav knew that the entirety of the dead within Dahken catacombs was now animated and awaited his command.

  He lifted his face and fists to the storm overhead and screamed in triumph. Nadav then turned and knelt toward his gods in the way he had before.

  By the time Nadav climbed back up to his chariot, he began to understand the full impact of what the gods had given him. He could raise all of the dead in a large area all at once, and he wondered just how far the power extended. A plan formed in his mind, and it was terrible, of the utmost destructiveness. As he looked back from whence he came, he saw that a handful of dead had risen from the ground above the Dahken catacombs, having clawed their way out of shallow graves.

  “West, to Menak,” Nadav commanded his charioteer, ignoring his new and mindless slaves.

  The Loszian emperor refused to take hold of the chariot as it sped and bounced down the sloping ridge. Leaving the dead far behind, Nadav knew the gods had gifted him with something else, something even more terrible. He had asked them for powers unseen since their arrival, and he knew they had given him exactly that. No one, neither Westerner nor Dahken would be prepared for what he was now able to unleash.

  2.

  Commander Thom sat in quiet contemplation at his desk, staring ahead as if at an object well beyond the blank wall only ten feet in front of him. He had not left his quarters for days, allowing his lieutenants to handle the more mundane day to day affairs of Fort Haldon’s garrison. The truth of the matter was simple – he actually had little to do here that he couldn’t easily delegate. The architects and foremen handled the construction, and the accountants handled the administrative affairs. This left Thom with a great amount of time to think, time that he had needed ever since the dispatch from Byrverus arrived four days previously. It now sat on his desk, and he picked it up to reread it.

  Thom Jobson, Garrison Commander, Fort Haldon

  Lord Dahken Cor Pelson is to be placed under arrest immediately upon his arrival at Fort Haldon. He and his people are charged with most heinous crimes against Aquis and Garod. All of his people, including the woman known as Thyss and any subject of Aquis remaining loyal to him are to be chained in whatever facility Fort Haldon has available until a trial can be arranged.

  This is the worst of times for Aquis and the Shining West, as Queen Erella is slain at the hands of the Dahken. As I write this, the priests gather in Byrverus for the election of the new king, and He shall determine the guilt and punishment for Lord Dahken Cor Pelson and his followers.

  Lord Aidan of Byrverus

  Thom of course knew something of Aidan, and that the priest’s signature was the most prominent aspect of the entire message did not surprise him. There was little doubt that Aidan expected to be crowned king in relatively short order, and he had clearly already decided what would happen to Lord Dahken Cor.

  He tossed the message back onto his desk, atop a small stack of administrative minutiae. He sighed heavily as he closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair to think over the situation. Thom honestly couldn’t believe that Cor had murdered the queen, but given what he did know of Aidan, he didn’t think the priest was as boldfaced a liar as that. There must be more to the story, something else that Aidan did not convey for his own purposes. Even in self defense, Thom knew he couldn’t condone or rationalize the murder of Queen Erella, but it would go further than cold blood. Thom was too old to have his feathers ruffled by anything, but this affair wore on him. It took him several days to decide to do anything.

  He could only assume that Cor would arrive any day, though he had not heard from the Dahken or his party. Thom would not chain Cor, Thyss or any of the Dahken, but he did need to hold them at Fort Haldon. Cor was powerful, and Thom feared that he and Thyss alone could slay the whole of Fort Haldon’s garrison should they set their minds to it. However, if he approached Cor with a level head, a cool temper, they could come to some type of arrangement.

  First, Thom would need to protect himself from the ire of Aidan or whoever became ruler of Aquis. By not throwing the Dahken into a cell, he would be disobeying orders. On the other hand, Aidan was not yet King, and the fat man had no authority over Fort Haldon. Thom still needed to be careful, and as such he called for Lieutenant Rory, a fresh faced young man who had shown himself to be a phenomenal protégé.

  “Get some men together and tear down the stockade,” Thom commanded when Rory arrived. “Immediately.”

  “Sir?” Rory asked in confusion. Thom wasn’t sure exactly how old he was, but guessed that Rory was in his mid twenties. He had shown himself to be fast and strong, well liked but respected by his peers and able to follow dangerous orders without a second thought.

  Thom acted more annoyed than he felt. “Are you having hearing problems?”

  “No sir,” Rory said with a straightening of his back. “What of the two men in the stockade sir?”

  “Confine them to their barracks on half ration for the duration of their punishment.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Thom dismissed Rory and smiled behind the younger man’s back as he left. Thom remembered a time when he was younger, when his superiors would order him to do some inane task or another. Something about this situation did not seem as fun, though perhaps no less inane, and Thom had no intention of jailing children. Fortunately, Fort Haldon now had no jail or dungeon in which to throw them.

  * * *

  Cor and the others smelled in the most gods awful way. They were in terrible need of rest and a bath, and his heart leapt when they Fort Haldon finally came into view. Between lack of horses for the first several days and their party’s general state of exhaustion, the distance from Byrverus required an extra week to traverse. They had paid handsomely for a quartet of decent horses in a small hamlet three or four days walk out of the city. The cost was exorbitant, and Cor paid every gold coin the farmer asked. Cor saw Fort Haldon from a little further off than his previous journeys, due to its giant new wall and a relatively tall building that was nearly complete atop a hill near the cliff face. Despite exhausted and aching muscles, they kicked their horses into a gallop to cross the last miles. It was a hot summer afternoon when they rode in, and workers and soldiers alike greeted them warmly. A
call went up that they had returned.

  They walked the horses to their quarters, and the entire time, Cor couldn’t take his eyes off of the hall that looked nearly complete. It looked as if additional teams of laborers and stonemasons were adding to the hall, and Cor hoped it wouldn’t be long before he could move the Dahken into their permanent home. They dismounted, and Cor had the horses sent to the stables. He wanted nothing more than a long nap in his bed.

  “Lord Dahken Cor!” shouted a man who approached on foot. Cor recognized Rory, a man who was a few years his elder yet sworn to serve him through Thom. When he came close, Rory stopped and saluted. “Lord Dahken Cor, Commander Thom must see you immediately.”

  “We are tired. I will see him shortly,” Cor said, and he turned to accompany Thyss to their quarters.

  “Lord Dahken, I apologize,” Rory called after him, “but Commander Thom said it cannot wait.”

  Cor sighed, searching Thyss’ beautiful yet drawn face. “What is it about?” he asked without turning.

  “I am sorry, Lord Dahken, but I do not know.”

  Cor’s shoulders slumped in resignation. He shared a look with Thyss, and he swore he saw concern in her eyes. “Go on,” he said to her, “I’ll be there soon.”

  It was not far from his quarters to Thom’s, but after the ordeal of the past month or so, Cor wasn’t sure he would make it. As he walked across Fort Haldon, the ache in his legs threatened to bring him down, and they felt as if their bones had simply vanished. When they arrived at Thom’s door, Cor entered without a knock or a second thought, and he noted that Rory stayed outside.

  The middle aged commander of Fort Haldon’s men sat behind his desk, his face a mask of worry and concern. He rose as Cor approached, but Cor waived him to sit and himself slumped heavily into the chair opposite Thom. They stared at each other. Cor waited for Thom to speak, and Thom clearly did not know what to say. After a moment, Thom simply picked a piece of parchment off of his desk and handed it to the Lord Dahken who was slow to take it.

  “Please read it, Lord Dahken,” he said.

  Cor’s eyes moved over the flowing script, taking in its words, and he lingered for some time on the oversized signature at the bottom. He closed his eyes and went to rest his forehead in his hand, realizing that he still wore his helm. He crumpled the parchment in his left hand and tossed it into a corner of the room. With both hands, Cor lifted his helm off of his head and leaned forward to lay it on Thom’s desk. Soulmourn began to sing, but Cor was too tired to listen.

  “I would have expected scores of men prepared to arrest us based on that,” Cor said, pointing to the balled up message.

  “Perhaps, but I don’t think violence and bloodshed is in Fort Haldon’s best interests,” Thom replied. “Lord Dahken, I am appalled at what Lord Aidan accuses you of. I would not have thought you capable of such a thing, especially considering she saved your people and gave you land and title. Don’t deny it Lord Dahken. Young as you may be, you are a clear cut man, an honest man, and honest men make bad liars.”

  Cor gave the older man a look as hard as Fort Haldon’s new granite wall. “I deny nothing.”

  “I wouldn’t think so,” Thom said quietly, and he thumped backward in his chair. He broke Cor’s gaze and searched the room for an answer, but neither the ceiling, walls nor his desk provided it. “Which means only that you had your reasons, reasons that I likely cannot fathom. Lord Dahken, I am a soldier, and I do as I am commanded. I have received no orders from a superior, only from a man to whom neither of us answers, but I think that soon we will both answer to him. Until the king or queen of Aquis commands otherwise, you are still Lord of Fort Haldon.”

  “So what now? Will you lock us in the stockade or do you intend to keep us in our barracks?” Cor asked.

  “Neither, Lord Dahken Cor,” Thom replied, but he then thought better of it. “On one condition.”

  “And that is?”

  “You stay at Fort Haldon and face whatever trial awaits you. I don’t know exactly who has guilt in this matter, but I do know it is not my place to pass judgment,” Thom explained. He paused for just a moment and then said, “I certainly have no intention of chaining the children, nor will I allow any harm to come to those who are innocent.”

  “Thom,” Cor said, rubbing his eyes, “I should tell you that I believe Aidan will use this as an excuse to eliminate all of my kind. He will point to this as an example of what awaits the Shining West if the Dahken are not destroyed.”

  “To my knowledge, no child has ever brought harm to a kingdom.”

  “I wonder if Queen Erella thought the same way,” Cor retorted as he dropped his hands into his lap. Both men sat quietly, refusing to look at one another. “I’m tired, Thom. What other news needs my attention?”

  “Nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow, Lord Dahken. Rest as you like. We can discuss other matters over breakfast.”

  Cor found Thyss fast asleep in a cooling bath, snoring heavily. He admired her body through the water, and his eyes lingered on the slight bulge of her belly that seemed to have grown substantially since they left Byrverus. He knew she needed sleep and would awake when she was ready, likely when the water turned cold. In their rooms, Cor stripped his armor and placed it in a corner. He sat in a chair, and smelling of a month of travel, sweat and blood, he began to snore.

  3.

  The Convocation of Aquis formed any time Aquis found itself without a ruler, and as such it had not come together in over a hundred years. It consisted of every fully fledged priest in Aquis and met in a great chamber in the Great Temple in Byrverus. The acolytes kept a list of every priest, those who were deemed experts in Garod’s laws, and when they all were present, the Convocation could be called. They would discuss and debate, in a supposedly orderly fashion, all of the matters before Aquis to determine the man or woman most qualified to rule. Erella’s election took only a matter of days.

  Aidan could have shouted his frustration to the heavens, Garod or anyone else who he thought would listen. It had been almost a month since the murders of Palius and Queen Erella, and yet he still waited for priests to arrive in Byrverus. He had acolytes copy the Master Rolls name for name, and then those names were marked off the copy as the men and women who held them appeared at the temple. Many arrived within days and over half by the end of the first week, but there were stragglers. There were always stragglers.

  He spent hours discussing the situation with the others. Actually, he spent hours talking while most of them just listened. He told them the story of the Dahken Cor and his insidious plots to destroy the Shining West, which of course began with the murder of Queen Erella. He convinced them that he understood the whole of the matter and that action must soon be taken. Aidan campaigned tirelessly, reminding those around him of what they owed, but only after making it abundantly clear that Aquis needed him upon the throne. Should he not be made King, those who did not repay their debts would curry no favor with the Lord of Byrverus, a powerful ally to be sure.

  Seeing his support growing and armed with the knowledge that many of these other priests owed him favors or boons, Aidan moved to assemble the Convocation so that they may begin the deliberations. Those who were missing could be brought up to speed quickly behind closed doors, and with a majority vote, which Aidan was sure he had already, a new king could be selected. As long as he had a majority, even including those missing as votes against, there was no logical reason to not move forward. It all made sense to Aidan and even to a number of those already assembled, but purists blocked his machinations. They cited the law and refused to allow the Convocation to meet. They carried just enough weight to make most of the other priests pause, especially with the damned Master Acolyte nodding his agreement.

  The Master Acolyte controlled these matters, and his will could not be bent, broken or circumvented by anyone. While he was not a priest, he had total power over the way in which the Convocation was handled. He selected his own replacement based on incorrup
tibility and commitment to the laws of the priests. Though, he had no say or control over the election itself, he sat in judgment of the way it was pursued. He did nothing to control the bribes, extortion or coercion that was the way of politics, assuming they did not break the law. The Master Acolyte currently was a boring man named Brenan. He was completely uninteresting in both form and personality, being of average height and slight build. In fact, the only thing notable about him was the constant and silent arrogance of his position.

  Aidan waited, and behind closed doors, he fumed and sometimes even raged. He had nothing else to say to anyone, and he shut himself into his sanctum, refusing to see anyone except his servants. “I don’t want to see you again until the Convocation is ready!” he had shouted at Master Acolyte Brenan, and the man held true to the command for three days. When the crisp knock came, Aidan jumped to his feet from a sort of sullen reverie into which he had fallen. He knew whom it was, for only one man in the temple knocked in such a way.

  “Please enter,” he called, and the door parted just enough to allow the thin Brenan.

  The man bowed, and began to speak before he had even righted himself, “Lord Aidan, the final priests have arrived, and the Convocation shall meet two hours after sunrise tomorrow.”

  “I chaff at the delay, Brenan. Aquis is without ruler, in near total anarchy, and you ask that we wait until tomorrow!”

  “My lord, the woes of Aquis will not be solved in an hour or even a day,” Brenan retorted calmly. The man was always so infuriatingly calm. “The last who arrived today have come from the farthest reaches of the realm, and they need their rest for the long deliberations ahead.”

  “They’ll not be as long as you think,” Aidan said, sure of his place to come.