Chapter 10: The Paladin’s Code
‘They might not have declared war, but they raid our lands and have even tested our defences here’
We are standing on the top level of a small, rectangular stone tower, looking eastwards towards the River Derwend, which is the border between the Kingdom of Lost Souls and Trolland. Our guide and speaker is Lieutenant Metys, a Level Two fighter not much older than I but a lot taller and more muscular. Clean shaven and short-haired, he inspires confidence by his calm manner of speaking.
‘If you follow the treeline as far as that willow, you can just about see there is a stone bridge. We used to have a camp there with Trolland on the far side. Now they have driven us off and get all the taxes from farmers and merchants using the bridge. Their soldiers can enter our territory whenever they like. I understand that the Necromancer has much bigger problems – with the Southway army in particular – but if you see him please explain there’s nothing we can do here without more troops.’
‘I doubt we’ll see the Necromancer before you do,’ says Lisandra, holding her hand to her brow to better see into the distance.
‘Perhaps were that bridge to be collapsed into the river; the best defence of our realm would thereby be delivered.’
A shrewd look from the officer is my reward for speaking. ‘Perhaps, but at least some merchants are travelling to Nekis over that bridge. My understanding is that the realm is cut off north and west, so we have to allow trade from the east. Still, I wouldn’t mind destroying that bridge if we can. The Trolland troops over there are like a band of locusts, destroying our animals and crops. Our people are frightened, and with good reason.’
‘For now, though, we need to be able to cross the Derwend,’ says Gerard.
Lieutenant Metys says nothing, a light breeze stirs his fair hair, and somehow I can tell he is sceptical of our plan. When we had agreed it while on our journey to this border, I had felt confident. Using Shapechange – Humanoid Lisandra will sit up at the front of the carriage with the reins, looking like a solider from Trolland. I will use my Disguise skill (already at 3, since I swapped my afk levelling to it once the plan was agreed) to also seem like a Trolland soldier. We will claim that the carriage was gained in a raid and we are under orders to bring it to Queen Togesta, their ruler.
‘I know your mission is important, but simply driving up to the bridge is a big risk. I’ve given you my advice: that you would be better off leaving the carriage here and swimming your horses across at night.’
‘Look at me,’ Lisandra gestures to her large body. ‘I’m not going to be able to walk the whole way around the world and there’s no horse would want to carry me.’
The word want elides the question of whether a horse could carry our sorceress. And I believe that either Valiant and Lamrial could do so for several hours at a time. Lisandra is large but no larger and heavier than a knight in full armour. Probably the lieutenant has similar thoughts, because his face is particularly solemn
closedmouthed he says nothing. After all, the subject was thoroughly discussed with him when we arrived after dark the previous night. Having seen a demonstration of the Shapechange spell, I was persuaded by the sorceress’ ability to get us past the bridge. Although the crow in me wanted to travel free of all encumbrance, I appreciate that the carriage means a lot to Lisandra.
Descending from the roof of the tower, we prepare the coach. Inside, Belle, Gerard and Aarax are given the role of captives, apparently with chains around their ankles and wrists. A padlock really does hold chains tight to keep the door from opening. Though the Trolland armour that Lieutenant Metys gives me is rusty and the shield split, I can make it look serviceable and meditate on my Disguise skill as I do so.
‘You should make the dragon tooth soulbound before you leave.’ Lieutenant Metys is standing nearby the coach when we are ready at last, an archer beside him. ‘Don’t allow our enemies to get it.’
I am sitting up front and meet the young officer’s eyes. ‘I agree; and think it should go to me.’
Although Lisandra had previously expressed her faith in my ability to solve the quest, she had not, in fact, handed over the tooth.
There is a moment of waiting while she ties a rein to a stanchion. ‘It’s in the green bag,’ she glances up to the roof of the carriage and I climb up. All I have to do is put my hand on the dragon’s tooth and I get the system message asking if I wish to make the item soulbound. I do. And I find that I now have an Inventory which I can call to mind by concentrating on it.
Extra-Planar Inventory Access: self only
Dragon Tooth (1)
‘The deed is done; Dragon Tooth, one.’ I slide back down and take my seat.
Lieutenant Metys salutes. ‘Very well. Best of luck. Lord Scrithax knows how much our kingdom needs a dragon army.’
Lisandra cracks the reins and the carriage lurches forward.
‘Easy there!’ calls Gerard from inside, whether to the sorceress or the horses I cannot tell.
I wave farewell, feeling respect for the commander of this small garrison, and am disappointed when he does not wave back, only stands there watching. There is an orange tone to the western sky behind him, and, beside him, the tower that protects his soldiers is a dark silhouette whose shadow points towards our destination.
Rhythm is a mystery and an offset, bumpy rhythm even more so. Sun, stars, breath, heart, all move to their own cycles. Ahead the horses trot. Two-two-two-two-two; iron hooves thumping out their tempo on the packed earth cart tracks. And here beneath me, large, metal-clad, spoked wheels turn over and over and over,
turnover. Their cyclical motion almost regular but there’s always a bump or a jolt or a creaking sway of the carriage that is unique.
Half an hour like this, the sky reddening, and we are nearing the bridge. From beside me comes a chant, a chopping motion of her hands, a cry, and the sorceress has gone. My companion is now a burly man, dark-haired and bearded. We exchange a glance. He nods.
And up we go to the bridge, where the road is paved and the horses seem to call out to the Trolland guards with the drumming of their iron hooves.
‘Woa,’ Lisandra hauls on both the reins and fortunately the horses are well trained and don’t mind the unfamiliar signal. They slow to a halt and although my hands are on the brake, ready to stop the carriage from rolling on into the horses, there is no need, the vehicle stops soon enough of its own accord.
Six, seven, eight, no nine, ten guards. Five of them with loaded crossbows. All of them with chainmail like my own. All of them looking intently at us. Are they hostile? It’s hard to tell in the evening light but I do not like their scowls.
‘What’s your story?’ a bearded man looking a lot like Lisandra, only shorter and stockier, walks up on her side of the carriage.
‘Booty from the north. We’ve to bring it to Callondum.’
‘You are just in time; we are going to close the bridge for the night.’
Something is not right. Instead of stepping back to let us through, the soldiers are gathering to block us.
‘Hup!’ says Lisandra and sends a wave down the reins to impel Valiant and Lamrial to walk forward. Valiant snorts, uneasy, wanting to take a step but evidently uneasy about doing so with this men so close.
‘Got any wine in there?’ asks the Trolland soldier beside us.
‘Just prisoners. What’s the problem?’ Lisandra sounds gruff, her accent is convincing. It must have been granted to her along with the spell. And yet I feel that the evening air itself is hostile. Can I spring away should the need arise? I have Swim 1, enough that if I can get over the bridge wall, I can drop to the river and hope to escape.
As if aware of my thoughts, two soldiers position themselves to cut me off. One of them is pointing a crossbow at me. He only has to pull that trigger and the brutal bolt will smash my skull or chest.
‘Get down,’ their officer gestures at Lisandra and then me.
‘We have our orders, let us through.’
Two of the Trolland soldiers are unstrapping the horses. This is our last moment to act. Do we try to force a way through? We do not. Even if the crossbows miss, the horses are not trained for battle and will not trample these opponents.
With a sense of defeat and loss, I climb down from my seat. Immediately my arms are grabbed and forced behind my back, where iron cuffs are attached this.
‘What’s this!’ cries Lisandra from the other side. ‘Let me go! Queen Togesta will hear of this and you’ll be executed.’
Their officer laughs. ‘I’ll be getting a promotion for this. We’ve been expecting you.’
***
Our prison is the barn of a nearby farm, across the Derwend. High roof; smell of cow and straw; barrels; crates; rope; the boards and straps of a plough. There are plenty of items that could be useful in an escape, several could be improvised as weapons. We are all bound though. Metal at our wrists, ropes at our ankles, lying in a group in the middle of the barn and two bored guards at the door, standing and watching.
Lisandra’s spell has worn off and she groans as she rolls, trying to find a tolerable position.
‘What did he mean, he’d been expecting us?’ asks Belle in a quiet voice. She is on her back, looking at the roof.
‘Our departure must have been noted,’ suggests Aarax.
‘Even we didn’t know what route we would take.’ Gerard is on his side, facing away from me.
Belle says, ‘Magic?’
‘No spell that I know of could have foretold our arrival here,’ replies Lisandra. ‘More likely, someone sent warning to all four crossings, someone who knew our mission.’
‘What do you think Crow?’ asks Belle.
‘I am sorry you are here; my thoughts are filled with fear.’
‘Mine too.’
I have, of course, switched my afk levelling to Pick Lock. At Level 2 it is proving insufficient to get Gerard out of his cuffs, although I have wriggled to lie beside him, back to back, so that my fingers can feel the lock of his restraints and work a twig inside it.
During a long and uncomfortable night I sleep very little. And I wake from a happy dream in which I am back at the temple to the realisation I’m a prisoner. My Pick Lock skill has not increased during the night.
There are horses riding nearby. And many shouts. Then a banging on the barn door after which several people walk in through a rectangle of bright, pale light. It takes my eyes a moment to adjust but when the figures have come closer I see there are several soldiers at the back and in front are two others in fine clothes. One of them is an inferni: white haired, long eared, blazing eyed, wearing black leather. The other is a woman in plate armour
polishedplate, shiny. Helmet under her arm, blue cloak swaying as she strides up to us.
‘Prisoners. Do you know who I am?’
I do not, but it seems Lisandra does. ‘Are you Lady Horsta?’
‘Yes.’
Lady Horsta? That still means little to me. But then I have only the knowledge of a rapscallion from the streets of Nekis.
‘And this is Amaris, representative of The Underworld. She has a question for you.’
‘What happened to my scout?’ The inferni speaks coldly, with a slight hiss for the s of the word scout.
No one answers.
‘Speak up,’ says Lady Horsta impatiently. ‘Don’t think my being a paladin is going to save you. If you don’t co-operate you’ll all be hung from the barn beams. You all have classes. You were caught spying, disguised as soldiers of Trolland. That’s a death sentence and I will suffer no penalty if I haul you off your feet myself.’
‘Your scout was spotted spying on us,’ says Lisandra, ‘there was a fight and we won.’
‘He’s dead?’
‘He is.’
I’m suddenly aware of the inferni scout’s fierce, small dagger, which I have hidden inside the Necromancer’s bracer. If they give me a closer search and find it, this Amaris will bring her anger and attention to me. And I fear this.
‘Did you get the dragon’s tooth?’ asks the paladin.
‘We did.’
The inferni takes a step closer and leans down towards me. ‘How did you get past the iron golems?’
So, they knew about the puzzle.
Lady Horsta waits for an answer and when no one speaks, asks, ‘Is the tooth soul bound?’
‘Unfortunately for you,’ says Belle defiantly and I admire her for the courage in her voice.
‘Rather, that’s unfortunate for you,’ replies the paladin at once. ‘Seeing as you can’t hand over the tooth, we will have to kill the person with it to prevent them using it. Not that such low level types as yourselves could realistically hope to complete the quest.’
Walking around the barn, the paladin finds a rope she finds suitable. She puts down her helmet and patiently coils it. Is she really going to hang me? Is this where
heartfluttering Crow comes to an end?
‘How did you get past the iron golems?’ demands the inferni again.
‘If we tell you,’ says Lisandra, rolling to face them, ‘will you keep us alive?’
With an easy throw, the Paladin casts her rope over the beam above. ‘I give my word that four of you will leave here alive, as prisoners of Trolland. The one with the dragon’s tooth, however, is going to die.’