Heresy: The Book of Mammon

Chapter 30

Chapter 30



“Why should we help you?” Haggra’s voice carried through the high halls of the building. Her condescending voice was more than abrasive.

“You’re not helping us.” Rialev responded with heat. “You’re helping yourselves.”

Baard nodded. “If they speak the truth, it seems only a matter of time before Ecclesia comes to us.”

Haggra shook her head. “Think of your people Baard! We cannot simply pick up from our lands and take arms against an enemy that apparently cannot be stopped.”

Elaine knew that she was right. It was near folly to take arms against an enemy that significantly outmatched them. She knew they had their own hardships. Starvation and sickness seemed to have stolen what little strength they had.

“What other choice do you have?” Papal stepped forward as he spoke.

The two of them shared a look. They showed no puzzlement or thought, but rather dread. She could only imagine what they were thinking. She felt herself shaking violently as she stood there awaiting their response. Baard rose from his seat in unison with the Gothi woman.

The wind howled outside, louder than she’d noticed before. Muffled ruckus leaked through the walls of the great building. Still, the wind carried an ever louder voice like an army of trumpets. Haggra gripped Baard’s wrist as they shared grim looks.

“What is it?” Rialev’s eyes shot about the room.

“Dwergar.” His words boomed through the rising ruckus. “Prepare for the men for attack.”

Haggra nodded and pushed through their small crowd. Horns blew in the distance, and war drums beat their cadence. Something was coming…

***************

Men and women darted throughout the cluster of buildings. Steel rang through the beating symphony of war and muskets clicked in tune with the beats. Wind whipped at her face as she rushed from the great hall. Rialev and Papal ran behind her, trying their best to keep pace. Baard and the Gothi woman vanished in the chaos, and all about, scattered anonymity darted between fires and buildings.

The weathered, withered faces of the starved populace told her everything she needed to know. They were not bracing against the attack, they were afraid of it. Whatever was coming, she knew these people feared.

Men and women gathered along the makeshift wall that circled the city. She darted to stand with them. She knew they needed help as much as Lokken. Whatever kept them from deciding, was now coming. If there were any way to sway their support, it would be displaying their own strength. Though there were few of them, the dirigible still loomed its shadow over the city. Fasad would ensure that he took to the skies long before whatever marched reached the walls, or so she hoped.

Baard and Haggra rushed toward her, they both barked orders to straggling men and women. Chaos erupted into a quaking, twisting mass of souls. Sick or wounded were gathered into small herds and forced into buildings. Others sat huddled in the snow, their hands were clasped over their heads as they shook.

“You stand with us?” Baard’s voice called through the torrent.

“What choice do we have?” She nodded to him as she drew her pistol. Her other hand rested on the hilt of her sabre. She was no warrior, but she knew that whatever was coming, did not care. She had to fight or die.

The chaos quieted as the people of the city gathered at posts until finally nothing but the wind, and the cadence of the advancing force filled the air. Men and women looked out wide eyed into the darkness of the plains. The moon offered light, but she could see nothing in its dim rays. The plains swallowed what little light it offered. Hammers clicked and steel rang as the drums rose to crescendo. Horns blew and voices carried on the air.

Rialev and Papal stood at her side, and Judaes stood not far away. Each of them stared out into the darkness with weapons in hand. They shared the same idea. Fight or die.

Behind, steam hissed, and cries echoed on the wind. The dirigible was taking flight. Whatever was coming, would find that they were outmatched. She’d seen the artillery that filled the lower decks of the ship. She imagined that just one dirigible could very well turn the tide of battle. That was, until Abbadin sent word of Ecclesia having significantly superior ships of their own. That didn’t matter now. Danger came in the darkness of the snowy plains, just as it came to the deserts of Lokken. Regardless of where it came from, she was here. She was as much a defender as these people. What other choice did she have?

She drew in the cold air of the night and exhaled smoky vapor into the darkness. Somewhere, out there, they came. Baard called them Dwergar. It was a dreadful name. What or who were they? Perhaps it was another clan that they fought with. He shared with them his own tales of struggle. The clans of Xalimfal feuded with one another. The king ignored their hardships just like the Ecclesiarchy ignored its own people. He spoke of the Dwergar as though they were his own curse. Visions of the beasts carved in the wood of the buildings filled her thoughts as she stared out into the darkness. Scales, teeth, and claws, flashed through her mind.

The clouds that broke earlier were encroaching once more. The skies above twisted and turned like a whirlpool as the light of the moon was shrouded in the foggy blanket in the heavens. Darkness descended upon the city as she scanned the sky. The dirigible was nowhere in sight. She turned to the south. It wasn’t there. At least it took flight. Where it was, she couldn’t say, but she knew it was there.

Firelight danced about and cast quivering lights about the throng of defenders. The plains before her swallowed the light as though it starved for it. She squinted in the darkness and strained her eyes to see beyond the veil of black. Nothing.

Still, the cadence boomed. It grew ever louder, and the voices hissed on the wind like vipers. The ground shook beneath her feet as the rumble of footsteps echoed through the night. They were close.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” Rialev’s voice called to her through the wind.

She shook her head. “It’s better to die fighting than die a coward.”

He laughed. “I’m glad you see it my way.” He slapped her on the shoulder.

“It’s better to live than die.” Papal pulled cocked the hammer of his pistol as his eyes shifted to meet hers.

“Then you best not get yourself killed.” The expurgator nodded toward him and offered a sarcastic smirk.

She hated how jovial he was about such matters, but she was glad to see their arguments faded. Today they were equals. Today they were defenders. Today they were brothers, and she stood with them. She was no warrior, but she stood ready.

As shadows darkened the little plains she could see, she took a long breath. The drums stopped, and the horns faded to a whisper. Men and women alike stood still along the walls looking out at their attackers. They were starving and weak, but still they stood, and tonight she was as much one of them as anyone. What little hope they had rested on the shoulders of these people, and she would die defending that hope if it came to that.

The ground quaked as the shadows advanced. She closed her eyes and memories of Valimaar flowed through her thoughts. His green eyes stared into hers, and she heard his voice whisper into her ears. The words were muffled, but she still heard them through the wind. Perhaps she would not see him again, but she would die trying. The shadows stood in her way of their reunion, and she would do everything she could to see him again. She couldn’t fight all of them, but they would regret meeting the Vicar Forane.

She opened her eyes, and the crimson rage she’d seen the day she killed the captain returned. The world burned like hot embers as she stared through the darkness. Her fingers tingled and her muscles locked.

As the shadows came upon them, she took aim. All about her, men and women raised their rifles, swords and spears. They stood against their attackers in beautiful defiance. This was their home, and they would die to defend it. She knew nothing of these people, but what she’d seen led her to believe that some people of the world were worth fighting for. They were starving and alone, but tonight they were gods. Fear faded, and fire burned in their eyes. This enemy had awakened the strength that hid away against the hardship, and soon it would know its mistake.

Baard had called her a Valkyrie. He said that they dwelled in the heavens and defended the living and the dead. Perhaps she was not a Valkyrie, but tonight, she was a guardian.

Faces formed in the darkness. Claws and teeth bared themselves with sharp, murderous intent. They were the visions of nightmares. Scales covered their skin from head to foot, and shined in the night like a suit of polished steel. Forked tongues licked the air as fiery eyes glared at them. Stringy white hair cascaded from their heads and fell to their chest like the leaves of a willow tree. Their bodies were clothed in fur and hides and paint streaked across their exposed scales. Stripes of white and red burned in the darkness and painted a portrait of utter dread. Sinewy strings hung around their necks and ears, fingers, and bones dangled and swayed as they advanced.

They were not human, but beasts. Beasts could not be bargained with, and reason escaped their minds. Primal instinct was all that existed in animals, but one thing was certain. Beasts were made of flesh and blood. They were not gods, or daemons, but mortal. Perhaps they had claws, but they also had hearts. She would see to it that they would beat no longer. She was no warrior, but tonight, she had no choice. Fight or die and die fighting. The words lingered in her thoughts as she took in the dreadful sight.

“Until the last breath!” Baard’s voice boomed through the wind and footsteps, and cheers filled the night. She would fight until the last breath of hers or her enemy’s. Tonight, only one would be the victor. Rialev, Papal, and Judaes joined in the cries, and they shouted in rhythm into the darkness.

Swords drummed against shields, and guns lifted to the heavens. It was a glorious symphony of strength and honor. Whoever these people were, and whatever strength they had, was worth defending. Valimaar told her that their only hope was their aid. Now, she knew why. They were not brutes or backward. They were people. The freedom of the earth was ever being taken away by the evils that existed, and they as much as anyone fought to defend what little they had left. Their lives may not have been easy or enjoyable, but still they fought. They were exactly what they needed, and she would stand with them in honor.

Swords and spears glinted in the night as they came upon the city. The Dwergar hissed at them through long, fanged snouts. Their claws stamped into the cold snow and rumbled the earth beneath. The defenders of the city raised their shields and weapons and braced themselves for the bloodshed that was coming. The beasts were upon them, and as she looked on through the burning rage that clouded her vision, she saw Valimaar’s face one last time.

The pistol rose in the darkness, and her breaths slowed. Her finger felt the cold steel of the trigger, and as she squeezed, she whispered into the darkness.

“I love you,” she said, as she fired the first shot.