A Clash of Shadows (25 page)

The sword burned its way through and the Flame hissed like water on a hot pan. The howl reverberated through the darkness that followed. The abyss lost its power and could only retreat to the sarcophagus.

Katja wobbled a moment. The backlash had some lingering effect and the Inner Sea was playing with the uncontrolled boat. Serdra got up shakily and Katja finally took note of the repeated blows.

The Acolyte and one other man stood by the sarcophagus and were chopping along with it with long logging axes. Seawater was already flooding through.

“No!” shouted Katja and hurried towards them. Her steps were heavy and stiff and too short. The Flame had burned away her last remaining energy. She saw the axes hit the boards three more times before she reached them. The cold sea swirled about her ankles and the broken boards groaned beneath the weight of the sarcophagus.

The bald man was closer to her and saw her coming. He reacted as she struck clumsily at him and tried to parry with the axe. They were both injured and slow and the result was a mere shallow cut to his arm. The man fell into the water rapidly filling the keel.

“The master escapes,” the Acolyte sighed and gave the board one final great blow.

“You won’t,” Katja said. She threw herself onto the sarcophagus and stabbed over it at him. He was too busy with the final blow to defend himself. She hit him in the chest and fell up against the bulwark.

The bald man rose on one knee clutching the axe, but Serdra’s sword flew through the air and hit him. The woman walked to the Death Lord’s sanctuary with a similar gait as Katja.

“Defend me,” she said and put her palms on the sarcophagus.

The Acolyte rose with effort and Katja advanced on him with her stiff steps. He tried to get at Serdra as the woman battled the lid, but Katja was able to intercept him.

Something in the keel snapped and water suddenly poured up along the sarcophagus. Serdra clawed along the lid one last time and then gravity pulled the sarcophagus through the damaged planks with a great crack. It vanished into the black sea and the leak turned into a flood.

The water seized Katja before she could think of what to do. She narrowly managed to sheath
e
her sword before losing sight of her surroundings. The lamp burning on the ship sank and the water suddenly closed over her head.

Katja swallowed seawater and kicked against the suction that came when she suddenly felt nothing beneath her feet.

Then she emerged up on the surface and gulped air.

She tread water and tried to look about. There was nothing to see but waves and Serdra where she swam a few metres away. They were too far from land to see it in the dark.

The ship had sunk and the Death Lord’s sarcophagus lay somewhere at the bottom of the Inner Sea.

19.

“We made it onto land with some difficulty,” Serdra said to finish the telling. “The current carried us some distance when we finally crawled onto the beach. So we don’t know where exactly the sarcophagus sank. But people in the area told us that whole area is quite deep.”

Maron nodded. The lines in his face seemed to have deepened twofold since last Katja saw him.

The three of them sat together in the homestead’s lounge, mugs in hand. They had returned around sunset and the black of night had taken over as they went over the small details of the journey.

“What about the Night Hand?” Maron asked.

“At least two were still alive as the ship went down,” Katja said. She had made an effort to contribute to the conversation. “Wounded, but not necessarily fatally so. So it is possible that they too swam ashore. It’s also possible that some got separated from their comrades in the forest without being slain by the Brotherhood.” She pondered briefly. “But then they also know less about what happened than those on the ship.”

“Indeed,” Serdra said. “And I think it near certain that some Brotherhood men survived the slaughter in the forest. But I question whether they will still try to claim the area after these events. Especially if we assume correctly that Katja slew their leader.”

“Technically the corpses slew him,” Katja remarked drily. She looked at her left hand. Eight days had passed since the battle and her middle finger had just finished regrowing. The new finger was pale but otherwise it was as if nothing had happened.

A new finger. How about that.

She scratched her hairline with it.

“But anyway,” Serdra said to both of them. “It seems to me that a Brotherhood coven wanted to claim a new area to use as a secret base. That is why they had Aron Vogn murdered, to keep the centre of the country sparsely populated and low on traffic. Such circumstances suit them well. They only had to destroy one village to have a whole lot of empty space in the forest to themselves.”

She paused to take a sip of wine and then continued.

“The Night Hand wanted to move their master precisely because of the planned increase in traffic and population. And around the time the Brotherhood was starting its plans the coven of Farnar found out about Night Hand men passing through their area and ambushed them. And we know how that went.”

“The coven Vajan and Arvar belonged to then heard the same news we did and wanted to know what was going on before beginning their operation. So why Vajan and a few others went north to investigate the matter as the rest waited in the forest.”

“And everyone bumped into everyone,” Katja said.

They were silent for a while. Then Maron sighed.

“This must be made known. All our people must be told what has happened in these last days. When the next war beings, be it in five years or a hundred we can apparently assume that a Death Lord will walk ashore by the Inner Sea.”

He stood up with difficulty and leaned onto his cane.

“I will get started on that in the morning. Do you have anything else to say before we take our rest?”

Serdra shook her head.

“Just one thing,” Katja said. She looked down into the mug and let the remaining drops slide about in the bottom. “Have either of you ever seen a dove in Amerstan?”

“A dove?” Maron said. “No. Why do you ask?”

Katja fiddled a bit with her pebble necklace without looking at them.

“It... doesn’t matter,” she said distractedly. She stood up herself and her wounds complained. “Let us just retire.”

She yawned and so the meeting was over. Maron walked away with his slow, careful steps and she and Serdra strolled to their room.

Only now did Katja start feeling some relaxation.

It was good to be back in a familiar place. It was good to be able to see Linda again and rest from all the battles in a safe and comfortable place. But none of that changed the fact that she could feel the tingle creep up on her. The joy of having travelled, fought and won. All the horror and the deaths seemed to have merely delayed it.

She felt she ought to be disgusted by herself, but couldn’t do it.

What am I?

Serdra slid the door latch aside.

“Serdra,” Katja said and broke the silence.

The woman turned around and looked at her. Katja was silent a moment.

“Did we win?” she then said.

Serdra was briefly silent herself.

“We depopulated the Brotherhood and the Night Hand,” she then said.

“Yes, I know that, but...” Katja hesitated and tried to find words for the unease the entire matter had left in her. It was good to have survived and to have slain so many enemies. It was good to have heeded the Call. But that wasn’t enough for her.

“Winning this war will not come down to two people, Katja,” Serdra said. She didn’t employ her mentoring voice, but rather a softer tone Katja so rarely heard from her. Suddenly the woman’s eyes were not as piercing as usual.

She put a hand on her student’s shoulder. It surprised her but was still rather soothing.

“We will just have to do what we can and hope that other people in other places and other times will do the same. That is how the world is preserved. And that is how this conflict will hopefully be won someday.”

Katja was silent and looked away.

“I myself am disappointed that we couldn’t slay a Death Lord,” the woman continued and Katja looked back at her. “It would have been a great favour to the entire world. But at least we were able to prevent his servants from absconding with him, into whatever hideaway they had in mind. That will have to suffice for us and really is a heavier blow than they have been dealt in a long time.”

“A lot of people died.”

“Yes. Sadly, that is unavoidable in this war.”

Serdra put both hands on Katja’s shoulders.

“Do not try to shoulder the burden of battling all the evil of the world. You only have two shoulders and can only be in one place at a time.”

Something about the woman’s voice and face made Katja suspect she was speaking from experience.

“I will... try to remember that. Was that a taste of the old days?” she then asked. “The old conflicts?”

“A faint taste, yes. Given what I have been told.”

Katja nodded. She supposed she hadn’t really thought the matter through when she fantasized about the old wars.

They were both silent for a little while and Katja allowed the light pressure on her shoulders to soothe her further.

“You did well, Katja,” Serdra finally said. “You have experienced much in a short period and taken in the lessons I have laid before you. There is little left for me to teach you. Soon you will have to learn on your own.”

Katja was a bit struck by that.

“Thank you,” was all she could whisper.

“Now let us rest,” Serdra said. “We can speak more in the morning.”

She opened the door and Katja followed her into the room.

###

About the author:

Born in 1982 in north Iceland, Eli published his first novel in Iceland in 2011, and has followed with one a year ever since with no plans of stopping. His hobbies include weight lifting, archery, swimming and wasting time playing video games.

Author Page:
elifreysson.com