Throne of Scars (28 page)

“Gathered with theft and lies,” I mumbled, but I could not turn my eyes away. “Why do you need Shannon’s deal?” It was obvious he didn’t. The dragon was right. If Kiera managed to steal the Scepter, he’d not honor his deal with Shannon, not for riches as least. He merely hoped I’d help make things easier for him as he stole the thing. He had given me the ring, but that too, would be his again.

He slapped my shoulder like he would a brother. “There is no limit to how many riches a svartalf can have. Of course I’ll make a deal that
doubles
my riches. Triples even. And if you choose right, I’ll need a castle to hold it all. In a bit, my friend, I shall take you to the gate. There, the slaves will be assembled. There, the kings and the queens will stand to greet you, and we’ll start this show.”

“You lost most of your slaves,” I muttered.

He shook his head. “
Some.
I had other ships. I didn’t lose too many, but I don’t like to lose money,” he complained. “Investment is investment, and risk is inevitable, but still.” He nodded below. “Look.” By the hoard of gold, an army marched. There were many jotuns, and Thak was one of them. Dozens of the dark-skinned creatures marched, ten feet and more, all well-armed. Behind them, a dozen dverger.

They must be dverger,
I thought.

They were short, wide, and muscular, and all had coal-black eyes and gray skins. Behind them came hundreds and hundreds of svartalfs, some elves, and a few humans. They were all armored and armed with magnificent weapons, and a number of thieves and killers of Scardark’s underworld loitered near them, pointing towards us. “This is the rest of the investment. There will be a thousand Pit Fighters, and five hundred are my mercenaries. They are hired for the job. A breach of protocol, but works in our favour. Thak will guard you.”

Thak? Would he?

We stepped forward.

Thak looked up at us. He grinned at me sheepishly. Itax leaned close. “He’ll help you there. See, not everything is hopeless and evil. You’ll give them a fight worth seeing.”

I frowned. “So we will actually fight?”

He shrugged. “Yes. You’ll see what happens during the fight. Don’t die. It’s a possibility. Can’t make sure you lovelies survive,” he said. “It’s all about luck, no? And also, remember what we spoke of. Here.”

He handed me the Iron Trial. “Hide it under your armor.”

I took it unhappily and nearly chuckled. My belt was getting crowded.

He slapped my head to get my attention. “You can’t use the ring with the gauntlet, but only use the gauntlet and the mask
when
you must. Let the ring help you survive until it is time.
Then
use the Iron Trial.”

“I cannot use it,” I whispered. “It will burn everyone up.”

“Indeed, you must,” he said as Thak arrived. “The giant will release you from it when it’s all over.” He grasped my shoulder. “Good luck. No more secrets soon, eh?”

Thak nodded, his face a mask of worry. “I’m sorry, Ulrich. But it will soon be over.”

“Yes,” I said simply as Thak pulled me along as the mercenaries marched to pretend to be Pit Fighters. We took the doorway, and slowly went up. There were shouts upstairs, as Itax’s servants guided us back towards the gates.

Use Iron Trial?
With Shannon’s unholy blood coursing through my dying body?
Gods, what would it be like? I’d probably burn inside out. So would everyone else.

I looked up at Thak. He gazed up at me. We’d fight together.

But perhaps not to the end.

“Where is Kiera?” I asked.

“Hidden,” he answered. “Get ready.”

W
e stood before the great gates of Scardark for hours. What was already a nerve-racking experience, turned into a tedious torture.

“They are waiting for something,” Thak rumbled, for the tenth time. The jotuns with him agreed with nasty grunts.

“Maybe they lost the key to the gate,” I muttered and wiped my face tiredly. I looked around at the great multitude of svartalf prisoners. There were
exactly
one thousand Pit Fighters there, captured warriors mostly, all swarming unceremoniously before the gates. They had been collecting there for hours and hours. Everyone looked like a professional fighter, well-armed and armored, many no doubt maa’dark.
Most, in fact,
I decided. Hundreds of magic-wielding maniacs hoping to survive in a Pit, and it would be a gods’ horrible shitty battle.

I turned away from them and frowned at the merchants. There were other providers like Itax, dealers who bought fighting slaves and they were gathered at the sides, probably trying to broker alliance deals and to lay bets.

I pulled at Thak. “So, assuming this shitty sacrifice and the theft of the Scepter will go as planned, which it won’t, what are the rules?”

He smirked and lifted one finger. “One wins.”

“
One
?” I asked him. “Are they betting on who that would be?” I nodded towards the merchants. Some of the rich svartalfs scuttled forward, others back, to do more deals, as others stared at the sacrifices thoughtfully. “Wow, that last pair standing must be the saddest wheezing pair of bleeding fools ever.”

Thak chuckled. “I bet it’s not as heroic as it might be. I have a hunch very few champions survive their wounds for long, even if they win.” He squinted at some of the merchants, who were pulling at their fighters, and one pointed at us. One fighter, a red-armored svartalf was listening to his master and sizing up the jotuns with an appraising eye. Thak spat. “They will gang up on us. Want to kill us fast.”

“Great,” I said sullenly. “Tell me what to do, then. I’m only a puppet, after all.”

“Just stay close,” he said. “Don’t drop your pants or the Iron Trial. And obey.”

Obey,
I thought sourly. “You want me to use Iron Trial,” I said with resentful accusation in my voice. “Kiera gave me a wound that will eventually slay me in order to give me a brief god-like power. You expect me to create such chaos in there to give Kiera the chance to steal the Scepter. Right?”

He wiped his face. “Something like that.”

Something like that? What else could there be?
“You gave me a wound—”

“Kiera did,” he growled and sighed. “I knew about it, yes. They said it would not kill you. But I can see it will, if they don’t help you.”

“I think Kiera would love to see me die, so they would resurrect me and—”

“I’ll not let it get to that, Ulrich,” Thak said. “Shannon is not that mad. Kiera might be.” He pulled me around. “Don’t forget your oaths.”

I gazed at him, and shook my head. “I’ll fight. But I won’t kill—”

“Gods, Ulrich,” he breathed. “Kill them.
All
of them, even the one you don’t want to kill. Let your soul bleed later.”

“Who would that be? The one I don’t—”

“Silence,” Thak said. “Wait.”

The doors stayed closed for the longest of time, until finally, something was taking place behind us.

The sacrifices turned to witness the council of Stheno arrive. 

There, a procession of the regal royals of the svartalf cities approached. They rode richly-armored lizards, some rode mighty horses, even. There were the noble houses of the four loyal cities, and some allies, great nations with strong armies joining the throng.

Kallista, the Queen with her horn rode there, beautiful as the night. Kings with war crowns and ancient magical weapons rode with their guard. There were yellow and blue banners, with strange symbols of crabs, lizards, and dark suns. There were lesser nobles, and then there were the Dark Water clans.

Their Queen was there.

“Keep your mouth shut,” Thak said as he nudged me.

Cosia, and her guard arrived. She sat on her lizard, splendid in her armor, and for the briefest of moments I wanted to kill her right then. I fingered the ring on my belt, and wondered if it would do me any good if I tried to escape after ripping Cosia apart, but of course it would not.

“Splendid looking lot,” Thak said softly. “That Kallista is—”

“So, we are all here, save for Kiera. Where is Kiera, Thak?” I whispered.

He shoved me as the sacrifices were pushed aside by a few guards.

“We could murder them right now,” I growled. “And then escape.”

“Why
would
we?” Thak said, exasperated. “We’d break the laws and the customs. It would make no sense. The royals are not guilty of anything. And we’d still die. There would be no place to escape to, Ulrich. We’d be hunted and killed for breaking the laws of Nött. And trust me, those guards and nobles pack a terrible amount of power. We’d most likely fail.”

“Not with Iron Trial,” I muttered. “And no, I don’t understand why anyone would go to their deaths like a lamb.
Kiera
. Have you seen her? And what is Cosia going to be doing?”

He shook his head, not looking at me. “They arrive. Shut it. Just concentrate on the fight.”

The kings and queens of Vastness looked splendid as they passed us. Most sacrifices bowed their heads in respect and awe, and the hundreds of their guards marched past without a glance in our direction. I didn’t look down. The royal svartalfs all looked young as fresh apples, their age impossible to gauge. Nobility was written on their faces. All wore robes and armor of elegant make, dotted with precious metals. I frowned. While the procession was splendid, I didn’t see anyone else quite as regal as the mounted ones. “They don’t have family?” I whispered as they had passed and stood below the gate. “Are the kings and the Queen the only ones in their family?”

Thak chuckled. “They spawn like squirrels. But you know, this war is different. They all want to make sure their family survives. Stheno has been brutal since Ban’s betrayal. Their sisters and brothers and children are safe at home.”

“Sounds like an insecure alliance,” I muttered.

“Shh,” he said. “Stheno is above the laws, though she tries to respect them. She is ruthless and insecure, and there have been many royal losses lately in the war. There have been battles all over the Vastness for this week, and not all of those nobles serve as enthusiastically as she would like, I bet. This is the beginning of her great purge of rebels, and she’ll be in a peculiar mood. The Horn, she wants the Horn.”

There were lesser horns playing far in the city. Thak leaned close to me. “There will be a huge army surging out of Scardark. They’ll let the royals enter it first, of course. And us.”

“We will eat first?” I asked.

“We shall,” he chuckled. “Oh, we shall. They’ll serve us a final meal in the Black Lodge, and there we shall enjoy ourselves for an hour or so. There will be smoked lizard, deep aur, and white mead brewed in the depths of the Below. The very best. Don’t gorge yourself, though. Would be embarrassing to see you vomit all over the Pit. Would be shaming for Shannon.”

“Shannon,” I said. “Happily she won’t see it. Though—”

He looked down at me as a great commotion filled the air. There were screams, cheers all across the great city. The kings and the queens shifted in their saddles, and so did Cosia, who was fingering something, her dark eyes scourging the top. Other gorgon kin around her were speaking animatedly. “Say your piece,” Thak growled.

“Shannon and I made a deal,” I told him. “She said she’d consider giving up Hel’s quest. She said she might consider giving away the Horn to the gods, instead of Hel.”

He sighed. “She
won’t
be able to. Just let her do her thing, Ulrich.” He gave me an understanding look. “No matter what it costs.”

What did Itax plan with the Scepter? What did he mean, when he said he can save the Nine Worlds, without Hel? And then I remembered what else he had said.

He loved Nött. A goddess. There was a treacherous thought in my head, and I shook it to clear it. I nodded at Thak. “I heard Nött built her castle around the gate of Asgaard. Where is the castle of the goddess?”

He chuckled darkly. “Forget it.”

“I doubt I will,” I said and gazed up the far white road that led to the doorway in the cavern’s side. There was something about that doorway that made me anxious. And I had a hunch what Itax planned to do.

Thak slapped my head. “Yes, it’s there,” he said. “Forget it. No matter what Shannon is, what she plans, where she goes, I’ll be with her. She will fail one day, she will fall. It is inevitable. She will need me. She’ll do terrible things for Hel’s goals, but she’ll never survive trying to execute Hel’s terrible plans. Remember what she was, not what she is now. Oath is above all else. Even personal unhappiness.” He smiled sadly. “We are far now, Ulrich. Let’s see it to the end.”

I nodded, and my eyes kept wondering to the simple doorway, far up the white path, where the light shone. I didn’t trust Itax, nor my friends. But I had a hunch and I was going to follow it. The dragon’s Pact might give me a chance to help everyone.

“I’m sorry, Shannon,” I muttered. I felt both relieved and ashamed, but I knew I’d take the dragon’s deal.

A gigantic horn blew. It echoed far and wide, no doubt all the way to Dark Waters. The great gates groaned, and slowly opened up. It was like a mountain shifting. Gold, silver, metal was glinting, the beast heads carved into the door making a thin, pipe-like noise as it opened up. We cringed and held our ears, even the jotuns did.

Countless numbers of guards walked out of the city.

They were all dressed in black armor. Their helmets had a golden crest of hair, and their shields glinted with silver and black spirals. There were hundreds, then thousands and the guards of the queens and the kings shuddered into a tighter group as Stheno’s guard surrounded them. Three thousand such svartalfs marched to encircle us all, their faces expressionless.

I could see a long, wide stairway climbing up to the summit of Scardark. It was a murderous climb of dark stairs. High walls surrounded the stairs. On those walls, and towers all along it, tens of thousands of svartalfs yelled encouragement. At the end of the long stairway, there began the city. There too, great multitudes of svartalfs waited. I didn’t see Stheno or the others kings and queens of the city.

“I feel small,” I whispered. “They will—”

“Cheer us,” Thak said. “Let’s go.”

I gazed up at the queens and the kings. They moved off, and Cosia moved off last. She had a part to play in the ploy, no doubt. I felt itchy with anxiety and anger, and then I was astonished.

Ittisana turned to look at me from the crowd of Cosia’s guard.

Ittisana lived!

Thak pushed me. “Forget it.”

“She
lives?
” I whispered.

He shrugged. “
Forget
it.”

The column moved.