Valkyrie's Shadow

Chapter 8

As Marcus had surmised, it took a few more hours to arrive at the town – the halfway point between the Theocracy border and Corelyn Harbour, according to the wagon driver. The sun was disappearing behind the mountains that loomed to the west by the time they rolled through the gatehouse. Alessia had her mithril plaque in hand the entire way, and Marcus could swear she was bouncing on her chair in excitement.

As the driver had mentioned, this town was still also under construction, but appeared far ahead of the border town: its walls and towers were mostly completed, while the structures that could be seen peeking through the gaps were already occupied. Unlike the border town, it was built off to the side of the highway rather than straddling it. Marcus wondered why that was: fortified settlements were the main way to regulate the use of a nation’s vital highways.

Coming up to the open gate, they found it manned by Human militia in much the same fashion as they were stationed on the border. Unlike the previous settlement, however, they were quickly waved through once the proper paperwork and credentials were provided to the customs office. The driver steered the wagon towards an open area that was set out of sight of the main streets, and Marcus looked around for potential accommodations.

“I guess we will need to find a merchant inn with room enough to stable our animals first,” he mused to no one in particular. “Driver, do you have any recommendations?”

“Hm? Ah, no – there’s no need for that, actually. Each of these villages was chartered and designed with trade and local industry in mind. A quarter of the village is set aside for servicing caravan vehicles and their animals, so there’s no running looking around for the right accommodations. Another quarter of the village is for warehouses and other storage buildings.”

“There are no issues with theft or privacy doing it this way?” Marcus asked.

“Not really, no,” the driver answered. “If anything, it’s better on that front since the local authorities can provide security for everything in one place. The method is rather simple – you’ll see it in a minute here.”

The site they pulled into was effectively a large yard, and Marcus immediately understood what was being done. The space was drawn up into lots with the space for wagons and stabling for draft animals. Sets of lots were allocated depending on the size of the caravan, then partitioned using heavy tarps that served as both dividers and shelter. There were permanent fixtures set out to accommodate all the possible configurations that might be required; there was even plumbing and proper drainage for the places where the animals were to be kept.

“This is a new thing,” Alessia said.

“Not exactly,” the driver said. “The trade cities in the great steppes beyond Karnassus have been doing this for as long as anyone can remember. There’ve been some modifications made for Human convenience.”

“Human convenience?” Marcus looked at him sharply, “You mean to say that something else came up with this?”

“Yep,” the driver nodded. “It’s the way that the Centaur tribes out in the east set things up when they visit the cities on the steppe. I suppose if you have the body of a horse, you’re going to spend a lot more time thinking about this sort of thing than a Human. To be honest, what they have is a lot fancier, but this’ll do for our caravans.”

“You have been there yourself?”

“I haven’t crossed the entire steppe – that place goes on forever – but I’ve been about halfway. There’s a string of cities that goes straight through to the nations on the other side. After we’re done here, I think I’ll be off on my eighth caravan out there.”

“House Wagner must have powerful merchant guards to survive such a journey.”

“Not really. The Great Steppe is dominated by the Centaur tribes. They’re the ones that keep things safe enough for merchants to ply their routes – merchant guards would have absolutely no chance if they had to fight a Centaur patrol.”

Alessia stopped looking around, turning her attention to the driver with a frown.

“I have heard many stories about the Centaurs of the steppe and how they raid the city-states of Karnassus,” she said. “Of the Equestrian King, who has grown in power and aggression. Yet you claim to have travelled into the Great Steppe many times. Are these stories merely unfounded rumours?”

“I don’t know all of what you’ve heard,” the driver replied, “but what you said about the Equestrian King is true. All of the cities that border the Great Steppe have to deal with the Centaur tribes. Some fight, some pay tribute, there are a few strong enough to not be worth raiding.”

“Then how…”

“The world is a big place, miss,” the driver told Alessia. “Most of it ain’t like this part of the world where Humans live – hell, most of Karnassus isn’t even Human. Sure, race plays a part in how people see you, but it’s not like Slane or Roble or Re-Estize where people have it in their heads that the world is divided between Humans and everyone else. You folks from the Theocracy might think that the Sorcerous Kingdom having many races as citizens is strange and unnatural, but I’ll tell you straight – there are more places in the world like the Sorcerous Kingdom than there are like the Theocracy.”

“But the races out there eat Humans,” Alessia protested. “They have kept Humans as chattel and raided our homes since the dawn of recorded history. Humanity was driven to the edge of extinction mere centuries ago!”

“I won’t argue with what you believe,” the driver said. “I can only tell you what I know from my own experience. There are countless races in the world – it’s pointless trying to divide Humans and everyone else, and no one really does that out there. It’s more like everything is a calculation: people balance risk and reward, no matter what race they are. Any ruler with an ounce of sense understands the value of trade. Merchants bring prosperity, ideas and information. We pay tolls and tariffs. We do this willingly, at no cost to the places we visit. Rather than raiding merchant caravans, those in power do everything to ensure that the caravans keep coming. House Wagner has people that have gone as far as the nations of the Beastman Confederation, and they return safely as long as they follow the laws of the places that they visit.”

Marcus, Alessia, and the Paladins nearby fell silent at the driver’s words. The notions that he conveyed were so alien that Marcus had no idea what to think. They watched in silence as the wagons were parked, their animals stabled, and the partitions in the yard were raised.

As the caravan members and nearby militia finished up securing the premises, the Paladins gathered in front of Lorenzo again.

“It would be nice if there is a place with room enough for all of us,” he said, “but I would like for us to split up into groups regardless. Try to keep your parties small and go out to get a feel for this settlement and its people. The gods know we have found ourselves in a strange place, and we must learn quickly. You men have travelled the length and breadth of the Theocracy, and even some of the world beyond. Your experience is why you have been chosen, so it is time to put it to work.”

The Paladins stood about for a while as they discussed what to do between themselves. Lorenzo moved amongst them, answering questions and reiterating their expected behaviour. A half-hour later, only Marcus, Lorenzo and Alessia remained.

“Are you sure you want to hang around a couple of uncles on your stay?” Marcus asked the young female Paladin, “You were so excited that you looked about to jump out of your seat on the way here.”

“I know no one among the rest,” she frowned. “Unless you mean to send me away on my own…”

Both hailing from Altamura, and she being formerly his Squire, they had naturally stuck together on the trip so far. Unfortunately, it also seemed that the others had marked him as her caretaker or something along those lines. Despite being a talented Paladin, Alessia was still six years from being considered an adult in their eyes, so leaving her alone would surely create a bad impression.

“I fear that some catastrophe would befall us if you were left to your own devices,” he grumbled. “You are welcome to come, but do not complain of boredom when you do.”

“...you are not planning on finding some tavern to drink the evening away, are you?”

Marcus exchanged looks with Lorenzo – that was precisely what they did whenever they met again after a long while. They would share new tales of their campaigns and tours around the border, reminisce over the memories that they shared, and toast the memories of comrades long gone. He supposed that, in her shoes, he would consider it all boring, or perhaps lonely since there was nothing for her to add. At that age, he certainly didn’t appreciate the value of such meetings.

“Was there something you wanted to see, Sister Alessia?” Lorenzo asked.

“The driver we rode with said that there are Undead here,” she answered. “I would like to see what sort of business they are up to.”

Marcus involuntarily glanced to her waist to see if she had brought any weapons with her, but all that hung there was a purse and dagger. She probably didn’t intend to cause any trouble…then again, the driver did mention that Skeletons were being used. Even if she were completely unarmed, Alessia had many ways to easily dispatch weaker Undead with a single blow. An image of the girl leaving behind a trail of shattered Skeletons while waving the mithril plaque around to pay for all the damage that resulted formed in his mind.

“Hmph,” Lorenzo huffed. “It seems you two have been chatting the day away while I was stuck at the head of the column in this mithril oven. Perhaps we should trade places tomorrow…”

“Really?”

“If you put Alessia at the head of the column,” Marcus snorted, “she would have probably charged off after those Soul Eaters.”

“So they were really Soul Eaters? I was certain that they were, but I was also certain that I was dreaming.”

“That is what our driver said,” Marcus replied. “You did not ask?”

“I was trying to pretend that it was a figment of my imagination,” Lorenzo said, “and the woman driving the lead wagon was glaring a hole into my back after all that. I wanted to invite her for a drink here, but alas.”

“I cannot believe we ended up with this Captain,” Marcus sighed.

“You are one to talk,” Lorenzo groused. “Remember what you said about Queen Oriculus the first time we–”

“Where do you think we should head first, Sister Alessia?”

“Mmh…I recall it being said that the Undead are employed in menial labour, so how about these walls being finished?”

They turned away from the brightly illuminated town square and headed west to the nearby gatehouse where they had last seen portions of the wall under construction.

“What is Queen Oriculus like, Captain Lorenzo?” Alessia asked as they strolled along.

“A girl just a bit younger than you,” he replied. “Brother Marcus was quite taken with her.”

Alessia moved over to the opposite side of the captain.

“Do not say misleading things, you!” Marcus nearly shouted, “It was the appearance that she assumed when she received us for the private dinner after the audience. You know – the womanly one with the, eh…what?”

“Nothing,” Alessia replied lightly.

The corner of Lorenzo’s mouth twitched.

“Ei! I do not see what is wrong with that, it is–”

He cut off his voice at a familiar sensation, and they stopped where they were crossing the pavement.

“Brother Marcus, this is…”

His hand went up to touch the badge that clasped his mantle. It was a magic item that notified the wearer of an Undead reaction within forty metres. Every Paladin stationed along the Katze border was issued one, and while it did not see much use inside the plains where one would receive a reaction everywhere the mist was, it was exceedingly useful when patrolling the border. The multitude of cavalry patrols out of the fortress would fan out to form a wide net that swept over the land, swiftly pinpointing any Undead that wandered outside of the cursed land.

“Where is it?”

Marcus glanced around, but could not see anything that resembled Undead. Alessia paced back and forth for a few steps over the pavement. She suddenly turned and jogged away up a side street.

Marcus and Lorenzo followed after her, turning one corner, then the next. Alessia let out a startled yelp around the corner, and Marcus rounded the building, fearing what he would find. He was not sure what to make of it when he saw her, though.

Bent awkwardly to avoid a collision, Alessia stood before – around? – a girl appearing half her age. The girl was carrying a split log in her arms, and behind her was a Skeleton that held several more.

“I am so sorry!” Alessia stepped back before she lost her balance and fell over the girl, “Are you alright?”

The girl looked up to her and nodded silently. Alessia breathed a sigh of relief, then her breath caught when she noticed the Skeleton in the shadows beyond. Alessia’s hand extended towards the girl. A piece of wood was thrown at her in response.

“MAMA!!!” The girl shouted as she ran away.

The Skeleton ran off after her, and Alessia was left holding her hand out in the empty street. She had a thoroughly confused look on her face as she stared at the retreating figure. Marcus cleared his throat.

“What?” Alessia asked.

“Alessia,” Marcus answered, “what in the world are you doing?”

“The…the Skeleton!” She stammered, “I saw the Skeleton and reached out to pull the girl behind me.”

“And what is that in your hand?”

Alessia looked down and saw that she had drawn her dagger from her belt.

“It was a reaction!” She cried defensively, “I was trying to defend the girl from the Skeleton!”

Beside them, Lorenzo put a hand on his waist and scratched his temple with the other. Alessia sheathed her dagger and leaned forward to rub her shin.

“Ai…she hit me with the corner of that thing – do the citizens here train in throwing firewood? That…that was a Skeleton Warrior, wasn’t it? Tell me I have not finally gone mad.”

“It was,” Marcus told her.

“Why is a Skeleton Warrior following a little girl around carrying firewood? Is she actually a deceptively young-looking Cleric?”

“That would mean she is quite the accomplished Cleric,” Marcus smirked at the idea. “Rather than that, it should have been the ‘menial labour’ that was mentioned, no?”

“I was expecting something a bit less…strong.” Alessia muttered, “Maybe weak ones placing stones on the wall or driving nails – not Skeleton Warriors helping little girls do their chores. If every child gets a Skeleton Warrior in this country, they could just go invade the Beastman Kingdom for fun.”

“I do not think they share in your idea of ‘fun’,” Marcus said.

“Maybe they dress them up?” Lorenzo offered.

Alessia scowled up at them, straightening to look around the street. Her fingers played idly over her clasp.

“The girl is long gone,” she said, “but there is still a reaction. I am guessing we do not need to go to the wall to find more Undead.”

She walked away, glancing through windows and doors as she went. Hopefully, she wouldn’t be reported as a thief.

As they went deeper into the common area of the town, the Undead reaction continued without pause. Marcus finally deactivated the clasp, deciding it was about as useless here as it was within the Katze Plains. Within a short distance, they came across several other children using Skeleton Warriors, and Alessia walked by with an overly friendly expression on her face.

After passing by several shops, they encountered another group of the contingent’s Paladins watching a Blacksmith at work. They exchanged glances, but could only shake their heads at the sight. A pair of Skeletons in the back were pumping the bellows of the furnace without pause, while the Blacksmith worked at the anvil. After a minute, Alessia spoke.

“This is unexpectedly disappointing,” she said.

“I’m making nails, girl,” the Blacksmith returned. “If you’re looking for entertainment, maybe you should go to a tavern.”

“Ehm, she was referring to the Undead you have over there,” Lorenzo said. “We heard that they are employed for various forms of labour, but we were not sure what to expect. How long have you been using these Skeletons for?”

“Around three weeks,” the Blacksmith replied between sets of hammer blows.

“Have you experienced any difficulties with them?”

“Not once I figured ‘em out.”

“How about, er…incidents that you might expect with other Undead.”

“No,” the anvil rang.

“Will you be replacing them with Humans in the future?”

“No,” the anvil rang again.

“What about apprentices, a shop such as this surely has a few?”

The blows against the anvil paused.

“I’m going to have to ask you fellows to clear the way,” the Blacksmith pointed his hammer in their direction. “One of those apprentices has been trying to get by you for a while now.”

Marcus turned to find a boy carrying two buckets of charcoal on the street behind them. He, too, had a Skeleton Warrior following him around carrying the same load. The Paladins parted and he skirted by them, emptying the buckets into half-empty crates. The Skeleton followed suit, and the apprentice started to refill the furnace. Marcus felt a tug at his sleeve.

“We should go,” Alessia said from beside him. “I am feeling that we will see plenty of this from now on.”

Marcus had the feeling she was right.