Ross Lawhead - A Hero's throne

What was it, exactly? The boulder, that was it-it was out of place. What was it doing here? It was too large to have come through the hole in the roof. It might have been rolled through the door, but why? It might always have been here, but again, why? That was a puzzle. And why did it feel like it moved just then?

A terrifying idea eclipsed Daniel’s mind like a storm cloud. He turned and looked at the rounded outcropping he had crouched behind.

It had a face-a bulbous, exaggerated face with rock-like features, but a face nonetheless, with a nose, mouth, ears, and eyes that were looking directly at him.

Daniel very nearly had time to panic. He brought his sword up and was still in the process of taking a step back when the boulder shifted into a blur of motion and the world went completely dark.

“You found the gap in my inner perimeter. Well done. In my defense, however, I didn’t seriously expect anyone to hop onto a troll’s head in order to exploit it. That was an exceptionally impressive display of stupidity-I truly wish I had been there to see it.”

The words were deep and thick and came to Daniel from a long way off. Somehow they managed to find their way through the whistling tumult around his head and into his ears. He was falling-falling fast, and it was this, more than the voice, that brought him out of his stupor. He blinked, brought up his head, and looked straight into light blue, sympathetic eyes.

His arms were twisted behind and above him, bound by what, he couldn’t tell yet. His left side was mostly numb and throbbed ominously in the places that he could still feel. That side of his face felt swollen and his teeth tingled. What had happened? Had the building fallen on him?

Then he remembered the face and he blinked but felt only one eye move. He tried to move his hand to feel it, but a metallic rattling reminded him that he was chained.

That was that, then. He tried to curse, but no words came out of his mouth; it was plugged up for some reason.

Daniel raised his eyes, making the world rock like a boat. He had to tilt his head upwards, for the person in front of him was at least six and a half feet tall, and huge-bulky like a wrestler or those men on the world’s strongest man shows. He had the untoned physique of someone who carried immense, raw strength in his limbs. His chest was thick and barrel-like, but his stomach bulged out so far that it made his torso pear shaped. He was dressed in black leather that was studded in some places and covered with interlocking chains in others. His skin was dark grey. Behind him was the raised, altar-like pile of ruined stone, with the rough-hewn throne sitting atop it.

Daniel tried to focus on his slick, bullet head with piggy eyes and form his name. “Kuh. . elmuh?” A thick stream of saliva and blood poured from his lip.

“Yes. Naturally. Groggy? I am not surprised. You got hit by a troll. You’re lucky she only hit you once. Twice or three times and you would have been a bag of skin filled with jelly.

“But she’s a tame troll. Trained. She knew to check her swing. All you took was a playful swat.” Kelm moved his hand across, as if shooing a fly. “You’ll live. Teeth don’t look so good, but maybe you’ll hold on to them. You’ve been hanging here for quite a time; I take your return to consciousness as an encouraging sign of your physical resilience.”

Kelm was illumined by a nearby brazier full of coal.

“Now tell me. Why are you here?”

Daniel’s words came as separate, mangled syllables. “Ah. Wuh. Ana. Jhu-oin. Oo.”

“You want to join me?”

Daniel nodded, a tilt of his head quickly downward and then slowly up. It was a long shot. That he came in “uniform,” as it were, dressed as a yfelgop, was the only possible excuse he had of making it out of whatever Kelm had in store for him. . Likely death, with a whole lot worse preceding it.

Kelm straightened. His thick lips pursed. “Join me? That’s certainly bold. You blacken your body and run around without your shirt on. You look the part; I’ll give you that.”

His lips shifted and drooped into an enormous frown. “Unfortunately for you, I am not so gullible as to believe that a man dropping through my roof with a sword, and a gun, is trying to be my friend, no matter how ridiculously he paints himself. And I still would not believe you even if your sword was not still sticky with the blood of a murdered yfelgop. Which it is.”

“Pr’ve. Muh-sulf.”

“You wanted to prove yourself?” Kelm chuckled. “Bravo. But no more games. I know your name, Daniel Tully, and I know what sort of person you are.”

Kelm slapped him across the face. There was an explosion of pain very far off, and equally as far off, a cry of pain somewhere between a growl and a howl.

“Who did you come with? How many are you? What are your objectives?” Each question was an angry bark. Daniel could only reel, his head spinning. He could feel the pit of unconsciousness open at his feet, the pit he would fall into if he did not stay awake.

Kelm wiped his hand on his chest. If he wanted answers to his questions, he seemed happy enough not to pursue them. He took a few steps back and settled his weight on the back of his feet.

“You should join us,” he said in a deep voice. “Ni?ergeard should be destroyed. You have no idea of the slavery that Ni?ergeard has subjected your country and your people to. The centuries of control that it has exerted on the course of this nation. The hold that it’s had on the neck of history.”

Kelm’s eyes flicked up and down Daniel. “I was told about you, young Master Tully. I was told about what they did to you and the girl. They picked you up, sharpened your resolve with their lies, and hurled you like a weapon straight at a target. I am a warrior, a very cunning and intelligent one, but I have never used children in a campaign, for any reason, much less turned a young boy and a young girl into assassins.

“And you still are an assassin, aren’t you? I can see it. Trapped, but an assassin nonetheless. They did their job well in shaping you.”

Daniel did not take his eyes from Kelm, even though they were watering and he wanted more than anything to close them and drift into sleep. But it was vital to look like he was taking it in, like he was being convinced of Kelm’s stories. The only way out was through. But it would be easier if he didn’t have to fight for each thought his mind developed.

“How long have you been living the lies of Ni?ergeard? Since you were how old? Thirteen? Twelve? What did you give up for them? And did they give you any thanks? Any reward?”

Daniel’s vision blurred and reeled. The words thanks and reward went straight to his heart. That’s the only thing that had hurt him, and it had hurt him deeply. He wanted to be acknowledged. Deep down, he wanted to be a knight, sleeping, rising in victory to fight the final battle. .

Somewhere along the line it had gone wrong.

Kelm’s face wore an expression that Daniel might have guessed to be sympathy.

“You were nothing to them, Daniel. Do you thank a hammer once you have used it to pound in a nail? Do you thank a stick that spears a fish?”

Daniel set his jaw defiantly.

Kelm came close, close enough that Daniel could feel the hot, damp breath on his face.

“Who is with you? How many are you? What are your objectives?”

The questions snapped Daniel out of his self-pity. He had to stay strong. He had a mission here. He had failed the first directive, but there were others. Namely: find the Great Carnyx, and find Godmund.

Daniel made no reply.

Kelm just smiled in an easy, paternal way, straightened, slapped him viciously again, and then called into the darkness, “Lock him up.”