War and History Fiction posted February 21, 2022

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News from the North forces the Empires hand.

A chapter in the book Rise from the Fall

Ever Changing

by Rinshikai

The author has placed a warning on this post for violence.
The author has placed a warning on this post for language.

Background
Colton Arverni is an auxiliary soldier in service to the Empire. When an aspiring new commander jeopardizes the northern frontier, Colton's life is changed forever.

Iona

I watch the poor man take the water offered to him with trembling hands. After a sip, the Emperor himself provides a comforting hand. "Thank you, my Emperor." The man looks around in a haze; he's in rough shape. The stench of dried blood and dirt coats his gaunt figure, and the dark bags under his eyes show he hasn't slept for days.

"What happened?" The Emperor asks as he returns to his seat.

"We lost all contact with our garrisons north of the Scar." He coughs violently, wiping away the blood that trickles from his lip. "Our Commander sent out messenger birds; one returned, begging us to send aid." Taking another sip of water, he reaches for his shoulder, trying to silence his armor rattling. "Our orders were to escort the survivors back to Bloodcrest." The rattling gets worse, and he fights to keep his composure.

"Did you encounter any resistance?" Lord Titus asks.

"None." Finishing his water, he wipes his mouth. "We found the remains of our caravans, but the Northman stripped them to the bone." He hugs himself, desperate for warmth. "They didn't even leave the bodies."

No bodies? Strange. Northmen, and especially the berserkers, leave the dead where they fall. Why take them? I look to Hahaku, but he's as confused as I am.

The soldier, through labored breath, continues. "When we arrived at the garrison, it was empty. All that remained of our brothers was a corpse pile in the courtyard." He punches the ground, "We were too late."

They were wiped out. The Imperial Legions are supposed to be the best-trained soldiers on the continent. The idea that a group of ill-trained, under-equipped wildmen managing to take them out boggles my mind. Who are these warriors? I grip my sword hilt, but it offers little comfort.

Eyes to the ground, the soldier's anger and fear ooze off him as he digs into the floor with broken nails. Each breath he takes is long and deep, fatigue slowing winning over his will to fight. "We made a pyre for our brothers. It was the least we could do. By nightfall, we had the garrison fortified. Some of us were outside scouting when we heard whistling." He clenches his fists, bearing his teeth like a feral animal. "Then it happened."

"What happened." Lord Titus demands.

"The attack, my lords." Looking towards the ceiling, the soldier continues. "They came from marshes, like corpses rising from the dead. One killed six of us before we could put him down." He claws at his head, fighting the memories. "Then the pyre turned green, and..." He reaches for the back of his head.

A fist slams the table, snapping the man from his delirium. "Solider, what happened after the pyre turned green?" The Emperor orders.

Turning to the Emperor, the man looks like a lost child. Rubbing his head, "A Northman struck me from behind. I didn't come to till dawn." He walks towards the table in a haze, ignoring everything around him. "I rushed back." A sorrowful smile crept across his face. "All of them, all of them, dead." To everyone's horror, bloody tears begin to fall. Using his finger to wipe his face, the man looks at the blood-soaked tips with an eerie calm. Falling to the ground, the soldier lands on his back. Choking on the blood pouring from his mouth. "Crimson tears in their eyes."

One of the sentries rushes to his side only to shake his head. Offering their fallen brother one final courtesy, they wrap him in a cloak, carrying him away.

I've killed men and seen them die. I've watched them try to put their guts back in or scream at a severed limb. But I've never seen anything like this, and it scares me. My gripe tightens on my sword, but it still offers no comfort.

"Gods! How could Berserkers do this?" Giselles said.

Footsteps echo through the room, "They didn't." A man walks past me. His body is draped in leather armor and furs, with twin axes hanging off his belt. Across his back, a yew bow and a quiver of arrows hang. Those piercing blue eyes are hard to miss, while he hides his features with a hood. "They're merely the tip of the spear."

The Emperor eyes the newcomer, "Who are you?".

"This is Hunter, an aid of mine," Giselle says, stealing a glance but keeping her composer. "He has been keeping an eye on the frontier for me."

Stonic as a glacier, Hunter walks to the table, and every sentry draws their swords. He eyes them, daring them to try anything. Yet, one gesture from the Emperor, and they sheath their weapons. No longer under threat, Hunter draws an arrow, pointing to the region north of the Scar. "Someone lured you men to that garrison. And reports have told me of similar attacks on all your garrisons north of the Scar."

Lord Titus huffs, reaching into his sleeve and snorting what I assume is medicine. "It's Impossible." He wipes his nose. "You expect us to believe that a pack of savages managed to lay a trap?"

"Lord Titus, these savages, as you call them, are more organized than you know." Hunter points to a distant location known only as the Ice Rivers. "They've been gathering strength for years under a man named Baer."

Everyone but Giselle chuckles to themselves. "Baer, that man was a drunkard without a strategic thought. Why would he risk our ire?" Titus said, turning to Giselle, who hides her anger behind a cold glare.

As a child, I heard stories about him—the personal guard to the Rebel King Oswald, bathing in blood and drinking ale by the barrel. Tales told how he killed Imperial soldiers by the dozen before being brought to heel. But instead of giving him a warrior's death, they sent him to the wilderness, expecting him to die.

"Perhaps you took something from him," Hunter said.

"Runa," Giselle whispers.

Lords Titus glares at Giselle, then turns to the Emperor. "Octavian, even if this priestess is connected to Baer, it couldn't justify an attack of this scale. It's an invading force." Titus stands. "Let me send word to my brother in Titos. He'll rally the Legions, and we can finish what we should have done years ago." He eyes every member sitting at the table. "We must snuff this threat before it grows."

Hunter's gaze falls on Titus, and he gestures to the map. "Do you know where they are, Lord Titus? How about the size of this force? Do you know how they're supplied or how to counter this poison?" He looks to the Emperor. "Emperor Octavian, look to the man who died to warn you. Will you send more men to a needless death?"

The group erupts with debate, some agreeing with Titus and others preferring a wait-and-see approach. Octavitian rests his head on his hands, and Hunter crosses his arms. Both of them observe the situation like kings of old. The Emperor rises, the sentries bang their weapons in unison, and all debate ends.

"Titus, send word to your brother. Have him pull all our forces back to Bloodcrest and cut all routes over the Scar. Until we know more about this threat, we will act defensively." His attention then falls to Hunter. "This poison, how do we counter it?"

Hunter shakes his head, "You can't."

For so long, they have all lived in their gilded cage. Now, vultures peck at the wound. I look around the table, and this news hangs over them like a stormcloud. And they fear lightning will strike, burning their precious world to ashes.

"If I may." Giselle stands. "We know little of Baer since his exile. But Runa, sorry, the priestess, might." She corrects herself. "Over the last few months, I've been able to talk to her on many occasions, and she told me she and her daughter were fleeing from someone."

"Then this priestess should be brought here for questioning," Titus said.

Rubbing the bridge of her nose, Giselle sighs and turns to Titus. "Her treatment at Cato's hands has not endured her to the Empire, Lord Titus. If you drag her here like a prisoner, she won't cooperate." Giselle turns to the Emperor, "Give me some time. She'll talk to me if we offer her sanctuary."

That's quite a tall order. I look to the Emperor, who is deep in thought. He has treated the Northmen better than his predecessors, but that's not a high bar. "Two weeks," The Emperor said. "I will give you two weeks to get all the information. But should you fail, I will resort to harsher means."

"Understood."

"We will convene in two weeks." The Emperor stands with his guards, leading him to exit. The rest of us follow, bombarded with questions regarding the body taken out of the room. We push through, and the daylight embraces us, offering its warmth.

I remove my helmet, pulling my sweat-soaked hair from my eyes. When my vision clears, I go to the carpentum, ready to return to the estate. I may still get some sparing in before dinner.

"Iona," Giselle said, being escorted by Hunter, "I want you to ride ahead and tell Runa about what happened." She tosses my payment. "Take Hunter with you."

"You sure?" I said

"Yes," she turns to Hahaku and the rest of his men. "Your friends will be more than enough. Now go."

One of the palace slaves brings a pair of horses. I put my helmet back on, and we race through the streets, avoiding the larger crowds. They chant and boo, calling us Imperial Dogs. One throws a stone that bounces off my helm, nearly knocking me from my horse. Through the haze and ringing, screams penetrate my helm. Bow in hand, Hunter hits my assailant through the skull, drawing another arrow as a warning. Fearing repercussions, the attackers drag their fallen friend away, glaring from a distance.

Once at the estate, I find Colton and Becka have taken my sparing lessons to heart. Colton is less aggressive and thinks more strategically. And despite her protests, Becka has tightened her moments, leaving fewer opportunities to exploit. It makes me proud.

"Aunt Iona," Colton walks up to us, coated in sweat. "I wasn't expecting you back so soon," he's drawn to Hunter. "Who's this?"

Handing my helmet to him, I gesture for them to follow me. "That's Hunter. He's a friend of Giselle's." I look toward Luna's lab as they help me out of my armor, but the blinders are closed. "I need to speak to Runa. Do you know where she is?"

"She's with Luna. Why? Did something happen?" Becka said, helping Colton put the pieces of steel into the trunk I left on the yard's edge.

"No, I need to talk to her about something." Hunter said, looking my nephew over, "You've grown." Ignoring our confusion, he walks past my students, wondering where to go. I lead him to Luna's lab.

However, before I allow him to enter, I grab his arm. "How do you know my nephew?"

Without hesitation, "How do you think Colton and Enid came under Giselle's care?"

I'm taken aback. For years, I thought they had died and that it was a miracle they had survived. But why? Why would anyone bring them here to her? Why bring them to Giselle? "Others would have taken them in. Why bring them to Giselle?"

"At the time, it was the best option. Giselle was devastated by what had happened. And taking them was the only way to keep them safe." Bowing his head. "Had I known you'd also survived, I would have brought you along. I'm sorry. I wish I could have done more."

We enter the lab, bombarded with a strong aroma of herbs. They dress the walls, hiding the imperfections with wild beauty. But Luna is nowhere to be found—only her strange devices sit on the tables, drip-feeding ingredients. I don't understand how they work, but I've always found these things fascinating. I'm about to touch one, but a pale hand slaps me away.

"Don't touch," Luna says, waving a finger at me. "It's a delicate piece of equipment." She places a bushel of fresh-cut plants on the table. "I swear you're like a child sometimes." We are about to kiss, but Hunter's presence ruins the mood; leaning in, she whispers, in honeyed words, "Later."

A shattering vase echoes through the room, and Runa pales at the sight of our guest. Like a cornered animal, she hugs the wall behind her, trembling as she points a sickle at Hunter. "You're a Harii, aren't you?"

Hunter nods, putting his hands up, trying to look nonthreatening. "I am."

"He sent you after me." Runa panics, her hands trembling so badly that sickle slips from her grip. Hugging herself, she glares at him defiantly. "I won't go back."

"I'm not with Baer," Hunter said, calmly closing the distance. "We want to protect you and your daughter, but you must tell us about the weapon that turns flames green."

Those two words send Runa to the ground. She turns to Hunter. Dread etched on her face. She looks shamefully to the ground with her hand on her forehead. "Baer, what have you done?" Taking the hand offered, Runa takes a seat next to the table.

"What do you know, Lady Runa?" Hunter leans on the wall, staring coldly at her. "This weapon is deadly; it claimed a man's life who wasn't directly exposed. It took him weeks to die." He walks over to a lantern sitting on the table. "Just want are we dealing with?"

"I doubt I could explain it."

Hunter drops something in the lantern, and a blue flame fills the room. Panicking, I shield Luna with my body and draw my blade, holding it to Hunter. Unfazed by my actions, his attention returns to Runa, who herself is eerily calm about Hunter's firey stunt. "Try."

"After his exile, Baer was angry and bitter, leading raids and trying to stop the Empire and Jarls expansion." She leans on the table, guilt weighing her down. "But the Empire just kept pushing. Grinding them to dust." Rubbing the bridge of her nose, she continues. "When I found him, his wounds had taken their toll. I saw a wounded animal needing help, but I should have put him down."

"So why didn't you?" Hunter asks.

Clenching her hand on the table's edge, Runa stares at the ground, "I thought I could save him."

"There's more to this," I said, seething my blade, kneeling, and taking one of her hands to calm her. "Runa, what aren't you telling us?" I stare into her sapphire eyes, and regret pours from them.

"The Berserkers have always been a problem." Runas's attention falls on Luna's tools. "We tried to calm the Bloodhaze that plagued their minds for generations. And through Baer, we finally succeeded." Though her voice has a twinge of pride, the regret still hangs heavy on her. "But, our success was a double-edged sword."

"What happened," I ask.

"Baer began gathering clans, promising them vengeance against their common enemy. And he promised he had a way to keep our families safe." She reaches for her stomach, rubbing it carefully. "Thanks to the Seer's blessings, he had a way to fight back.

"The poison," Hunter said.

Runa nods. "I thought they'd only use it as a last result." Her distress starts to chip away at the walls she's desperately trying to keep up. "But when one clan refused to join, they..." Her trembling gets so bad that I worry she'll collapse.

I pull her into a hug, trying my best to calm her nerves. "It's ok, Runa, you're safe here. The tremors stop, and I can look her in the eyes. "Runa, if they're going to use this weapon, we need a way to fight back."

Now calm, she whips her eyes. "I'll share what I know, Iona, but in exchange, you will promise me to keep Becka safe no matter what happens."

"I promise."

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Character List
Iona: POV Character
Hahaku: Friend of Iona
Giselle: Northern Queen
Livius: Minor Lord
Hunter: Giselle's agent
Emperor Octavian: Ruler of the Empire
Lord Titus: Head of one of the five great families

This is a rewrite of chapter twelve, divided into two parts. I ask reviewers to provide a minimum of one thing they liked and disliked. If you see errors or something that should be fixed, please don't hesitate to point it out. I can't improve otherwise.

Update May 7
I've rewritten this chapter after taking feedback from the fan story committee.

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News from the North forces the Empires hand.

A chapter in the book Rise from the Fall

Ever Changing

by Rinshikai

Iona

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