The Cor Chronicles: Volume 02 - Fire and Steel (34 page)

BOOK: The Cor Chronicles: Volume 02 - Fire and Steel
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“They just toss everything through the bars, I guess. There is no way past,” Keth said, sitting down next to Cor, and his Lord Dahken threw his head back against the bars, causing his helm to clang loudly. Thyss transfixed him with an exasperated glare.

Cor jumped to his feet and gripped a bar in each hand. Setting his feet widely, he pulled them in opposite directions, intent on making them bend. His muscles strained and began to burn. Cor focused on Soulmourn and Ebonwing, beseeching them to lend him strength for this challenge rather than fighting an army of Westerners, but the more he called on them, the more their song faded from his mind. He pushed all of his weight against one, followed by the other. Finally exhausted, he opened his eyes and found that the bars had not budged. Cor released his grip on the bars and slumped to the floor, his head resting on the iron.

“They are wrought iron,” Thyss chided, laughing softly. “What did you expect to happen? Marya’s right, Dahken Cor. If we are to die, let us die in battle.”

He had done all this to prevent Thyss’ death, and now she resigned herself to it. He’d argued with the queen until he was out of breath, until his rage drove him to her murder. He and his Dahken had killed her guards, innocent Westerners who did nothing but serve their queen, to say nothing of the gaolers. They made their way through an ancient dungeon in the hopes that the servants dumped the palace waste in something more than a drain. They had found a huge tunnel through which to escape, but were prevented by solid, iron bars. Hard, wrought iron bars.

Cor snapped his head up.

“No one’s dying today,” he said, standing with new energy. “I can’t bend the bars. They’re too strong, too solid. But if they were
softer
, I could throw myself against them and make them bend.” Cor pulled his helm off and dropped it to the floor as he approached Thyss, and he could see the understanding crossing her face as he gently touched her cheek with a gauntleted hand.

“Heating this much metal sustainably is difficult, my love,” she said.

“I know you can do it, Thyss. I’ve seen you do incredible things; this is nothing to you.”

“I know I can do it, you gray skinned bastard,” she growled hotly. “Even if I do, how will you bend the bars? You dare not touch them.”

“I’ll throw my entire body against them. My armor will protect me well enough,” Cor said.

“I hope so,” she replied. “Very well, everyone stand back.”

Cor replaced his helm over his head as Thyss took a wide stance a few yards from the wall of bars. She closed her eyes, and pure serenity crossed her face for just a moment before she reopened them with a look of sheer determination. She concentrated on the center point of the iron barricade, and for easily a minute nothing happened. The Dahken watched as slight red glow blinked into being on one bar and slowly spread in size up and down its length. The redness began to show on the adjacent bars as it expanded from the focal point, which now started to turn orange. Cor launched himself against the bars, jarring himself as his black hauberk and helm made contact with the glowing metal, but he found them still quite solid. Even still, they were extremely hot, and he jerked away from them reflexively.

A clamor arose from the entrance to the dungeon as the sound of steel clad soldiers entered the far side with a cry of surprise and success. Men wearing the plate of the palace guard poured from the stairs, many carrying torches in lieu of their swords. Even in the gloom several hundred feet away, Cor counted half a score, and they approached cautiously. Facing the threat, Keth and Marya drew steel and shot impatient looks at their Lord Dahken.

“We can slow them down,” Keth called out, and Marya anxiously shifted her weight between her feet.

“No, wait,” Cor shouted.

He again charged the barricade, which now glowed in various shades across a circle roughly four feet across. This time the collision thudded dully instead of the ring of steel on steel, and the bars stretched and bent outward several inches as he rebounded off them. The advancing guards stopped for just a moment, but then broke into a run as realization struck them. Cor pushed his shoulder into the softening iron, heedless of the scorching heat that was dangerously close to his exposed skin, and the iron continued to bulge toward the sewer’s entrance. But not quickly enough.

“Lord Dahken!” Marya called to hurry him. She then placed a hand on Keth’s sword arm and said, “Come. The two of them must escape. We’ll follow after -“

“No!” Thyss screamed in interruption, and she whipped around to face the oncoming Westerners. She drew her open hand, fingers extended, across their path, and a wall of white hot flame exploded from the floor in front of them. The guards skidded to halt, but one was not so lucky, charging headlong into the flames. He burst through, his plate armor glowing as brightly as the softening iron bars, and the linens underneath ignited spontaneously. Arms wheeling, he fell to the ground, screaming hideously.

Unable to withstand it anymore as his black armor also began to grow hot, Cor pushed himself away from his task just as Thyss returned attention to hers. She had lost valuable seconds in saving Keth and Marya, but no longer would she allow these inconvenient iron bars to prevent their escape. Silently, she prayed to Hykan for strength as she closed her eyes and raised her face upward. Thyss’ open hands clenched into fists, her knuckles growing as white as the iron that began to not only soften but melt. She felt the power of her god channel through her and bent it all to her indomitable will. As quickly as it came, it all vanished from her, and Thyss collapsed in exhaustion, Keth catching her to carefully lower her to the ground.

The three Dahken stood in silent awe of the sight before them; Thyss had completely melted a large portal into the row of iron, easily wide enough to admit two men walking abreast. Jagged tips of steel, still set into the floor and ceiling, as yet glowed red, but the heat was quickly abating. Shapeless pools of melted iron had formed on either side of the portal, and they already began to cool, congealing into asymmetrical metal plates. Thyss’ wall of flame vanished as if it had never been, and the soldiers trapped on the far side slowly edged forward and investigated their burnt alive compatriot.

“Thyss?” Cor asked, kneeling over her.

“I am fine, my love,” she said opening her eyes. “I just need rest.”

She closed her eyes and fell straight into a deep sleep, and Cor stood to face the Westerners who now approached slowly but confidently. He drew Soulmourn and Ebonwing, allowing their song to fill him with rage and said to his Dahken, “Let’s finish this.”

Cor was vaguely aware that the first man fell to a single blow that broke through steel, flesh and bone and dumped organs and entrails onto the smoothed stone floor. He had slain or maimed three before his Dahken struck the first blow, and he waded clear into the middle of his foes, completely heedless of the Westerners attacks. They piled around him, trying to bring him down with the weight of their strikes against his armor, and sometimes they even rent his flesh. But he ignored them as a Tigolean rhino might ignore mosquitoes, and his wounds closed of their own accord as Soulmourn whistled through the air, severing limbs and ripping flesh. When he could no longer find a foe, he turned to face his Dahken who stood silently, their swords hanging limply by their sides. The floor was slick with spilled Western blood as Cor brushed past them to Thyss, who snored softly on the floor.

Cor picked her limp and supple form up off of the ground, cradling her in his arms as she slept. Stepping through the ruined bars, he carefully slid down the sloped side into the trench, expending all of his effort not to choke on the noxious air. Human waste, mostly feces, urine and the remains of meals, flowed slightly downhill to the south and into a tunnel, and it was this direction Cor chose. All of the waste of Byrverus must eventually exit the system, more than likely somewhere outside of the city. He thought briefly of his palomino, Kelli, but somehow he doubted the Westerners would execute a horse for the actions of her master.

 

* * *

 

The sewer system was a maze of tunnels, small and massive, and at times the flow was several feet deep. At these times, they endeavored to stay as far up the sides of the rounded tunnels as possible, but occasionally someone would slip on the disgustingly slick stone into the muck. Usually, several minutes of hacking, vomiting and dry heaving would follow this, and it seemed that they could never get used to it. Regardless, Cor followed the flow and chose larger passages every time they came to one.

Eventually, Cor spotted a pinpoint of orange light ahead of them as they trudged through the largest tunnel yet. As they approached, it became obvious that the light shone into the tunnel was that of the warm, afternoon sun. Marya and Keth tossed their torches aside, and the Dahken increased their pace, Cor still carrying his sleeping Thyss.

The tunnel opened into sweet, fresh air, hanging several yards over a south flowing river. The river, easily fifty feet across at this point, already carried waste and detritus, no doubt dumped there by other tunnels. The riverbanks were tall and steep, sloping dangerously on either side. This was Byrver, a great old river that fed life to the city, and they paid it by dumping the shit of thousands into it. To the north, Cor could just barely see the tops of the towers and spires of Byrverus peaking out above the riverbanks.

“What do we do now, Lord Dahken?” Marya asked.

“What do you think? We need Thyss to wake, and then we jump.”

“Our armor will make us sink like a stone,” she replied.

“Mine won’t, but you’d better take yours off and leave it here,” Cor said as he gently sat Thyss up against the tunnel wall. “We can always get you new armor.”

“I’m not leaving my sword,” Marya said defensively. “No way.”

“Fair enough.”

“Lord Dahken,” Keth said, interrupting the exchange, “have you ever seen anything like this before? The stone of this tunnel, and of all the others I think, is one solid piece, not blocks of masonry.”

“What’s the point, Keth?”

“Nothing I suppose. It just doesn’t seem like anything the Westerners could build,” he said as he removed his glove and ran his hand over the rough surface. “It makes me think of the building in the mountains, where you found Ebonwing.”

“Its not important right now,” Cor said dismissively, and he slumped against the wall next to Thyss as he suddenly realized just how exhausted was his body.

Epilogue

 

Aidan fumed, and his anger boiled over, as he left the palace for the temple just across the plaza in the early morning light. Though he’d never cared for Palius, as the man always seemed to block his moves, he never would have wished such a death upon the old man, but the blatant murder of Queen Erella was a whole other matter. The Dahken made it very clear that he and his people were a danger to all of the Shining West, and they must be stamped out. Aidan would have liked nothing more than to take command of the armies, hunt the renegades and slaughter the other Dahken at Fort Haldon. Kill the children now, before they learn of what they are.

Unfortunately, even Aidan could not circumvent protocol in this matter. The queen was dead, and certain things must take place.

At his command, the great bronze and copper bells at the top of the tower began to ring, a ring that could be heard for miles. The smaller temples across the city took up the call, for it could mean only one thing - the death of the High Priestess of Garod, the ruler of Aquis. Miles away, the pealing of the bells was heard by priests of the smaller towns and villages, and they rang their own in answer. It carried across the land to every temple in every village or hamlet, and it was even heard across the borders of Aquis, into the other kingdoms of the Shining West.

Four, who traveled across the countryside, avoiding the roads and not far from the great city of Byrverus, also heard it. They were a motley, disheveled lot that looked terribly exhausted and smelled worse. Away from the stench of the sewers, hunger had set in, but putting as much distance between themselves and the city as possible was their only thought. They stopped and turned toward Byrverus at the tolling of the bells.

“What is it?” Marya asked.

“It’s a sign of the queen’s death,” Cor answered, remembering the boyhood teachings of so long ago. “When the ruler of Aquis dies, the priests ring the bells atop the temple. They say that the power of Garod carries the sound across Aquis to every other temple bell. When the ringing ends, every priest and priestess in Aquis will travel to Byrverus.”

“What for?”

“To elect a new High Priest or Priestess, a new ruler.”

“What is e-lect?” Thyss asked in tired confusion.

She had awakened a few hours after they reached the sewer outlet into the river. Once she had regained some of her strength, they contrived an escape from the tunnel by looping her rope around Marya and lowering her down to the river. She then caused herself to swing back and forth until her feet could touch the slimy riverbank. Each of them did it in turn, leaving Cor for last. He threw one end of the rope to them below, tied the other tightly about his torso and jumped right into the river. It was difficult work, but they pulled him to safety.

“They all come and cast a vote,” he explained, “voice their choice to lead. He or she with the majority of votes will rule.”

“Politics,” Thyss said the word as if it was a curse, and she spat to the side. “The powerful should simply take what is theirs.”

“Westerners don’t believe that. They believe that selecting the most wise to rule will prevent the abuse of power.”

“And after what we’ve just been through, what do you believe, Dahken Cor?” she asked. When it became obvious that he had no intention to answer, she asked him something different. “How much time do you think we have?”

“I’d say at least a couple weeks for them to assemble,” Cor answered, mentally picturing a map of Aquis. “I don’t know how long the process is, but even if it only takes a day, at least another two weeks after that to send anyone to Fort Haldon.”

BOOK: The Cor Chronicles: Volume 02 - Fire and Steel
11.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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