Ross Lawhead - A Hero's throne

“The buildings are so large. I cannot tell-all looks modern to my eye. I am often saddened that naught from my time is still to be seen. It makes me feel as if I am in a different realm than the one I was born to. Only Ni?ergeard feels like home.”

“I think-”

“Hold! Do you hear that?” Ecgbryt swung a large arm out and smacked his palm down on Alex’s chest.

“Hear what?” Alex asked, winded.

“It is a call! A summons! We must go!”

“What? Wait!”

Ecgbryt had already turned and was charging through the woods, back to the enchanted crevice in the forest. Alex tore after him, trying desperately to keep up with the knight’s enormous stride.

Ecgbryt reached the entrance to the underground realms ahead of Alex and halted. Still sprinting, Alex nearly knocked into him.

“They are gone!” Ecgbryt exclaimed, stepping into the dark recess. “Retreated farther in? But what- meotodes meahte!”

“What? What is it?”

“Do you see? Hanging in the air, it is-is that some sort of portal?”

Alex rounded a corner and saw what appeared to be a shimmering patch of air encircling the cavern. Some sort of strange optical effect was taking place-it appeared as if the tunnel in front of them was truncated somehow-squeezed in on itself like a concertina-and also straightened. There were no winding paths, and at the end of the tunnel, he thought he could see the dim, twinkling lights of Ni?ergeard. He felt like he was looking down a distance of many miles-hundreds of miles if that really was Ni?ergeard-but that he could cross that distance in just a few steps.

It must be the Carnyx, Alex thought. They must have found it and used it.

“I hear the call,” Ecgbryt said. “I must answer,” and he stepped forward and vanished from sight.

This is it! Alex drew a deep breath, and then he too stepped over the threshold.

The horn emitted a low, tremulous note that reverberated in the very stones around them.

The air filled up with the sound, as if with water. Time slowed, and also sped up. Freya kept her lips on the horn as the note spread from moments to hours to days.

And all around her was still, the horn the stillest of all, fixed in the air, as immovable as a star. She was not holding it; she was hanging from it. Everything else revolved around Freya as slowly as the movement of the planets. She could sense time moving quickly, many hours in just one second.

And then the spell was broken. She had no more breath, and the horn ceased its call. Time and the world snapped back into its normal pace and motion. All of those in the Beacon turned to look at each other-yfelgop and Ni?ergearder alike. Freya herself collapsed, the Carnyx falling atop her.

“What have you done?” Modwyn asked.

Another horn sounded, seeming small and distant. It came from outside, from the ni?erplane itself.

“The next army!” Vivienne said. “Freya, quick-let’s get back to the Langtorr. We can see what is happening from there.”

The two women dashed out of the Beacon. No one followed them as they made their way through the pockets of dead bodies and raced up the stairs of the Langtorr, through the entry hall, and up to the guest floor. They stuck their heads out of the nearest window and looked out into the darkness. They strained their eyes but could see nothing. The horn call ended and another answered it from the left. And then another from the right. And then two more.

“Do you see them?” Freya asked. “The next army?”

They could see nothing in the blackness beyond the dim lights of Ni?ergeard, but they could see the effect that the horns had on the yfelgopes below-they started running in all directions, flooding out of houses, streaming into the streets, and jostling into one another. A few fights even broke out between them.

A large yfelgop was bellowing instructions to all of those around him and arranging them into some sort of order. “That has to be Kelm,” Vivienne said. “That means Daniel failed in his assassination attempt.”

“I hope Daniel’s okay,” Freya said sadly. “I hope he’ll be safe until we can find him.”

Kelm was agitated but authoritative, and he shouted at any yfelgop in hearing and swatted at any in reach. Those that stopped and fell into the ranks he was arranging twitched neurotically, as if still fighting the urge to run; they seemed ready to scatter at the slightest provocation, despite Kelm’s threats and abuses. Just once, he paused in his efforts at command in order to look up at the Langtorr. Freya and Vivienne drew back slightly as he seemed to be looking straight at them. It was a measured stare that seemed to slow time once again, Freya thought. Then he turned his attention back to his immediate surroundings, the Langtorr gone from his considerations.

Shouts came from beyond the buildings. The feral cries of the yfelgopes, Freya thought, but also the cries of men.

Kelm stood with his ranked yfelgopes-there were about fifty of them before him. He stood, listening to the sounds of invisible skirmishes happening around him. Then he seemed to make a decision and gave orders for one block of his assembled army to station themselves where they were as the rest of them marched off into the darkness.

“He’s going west,” Vivienne said.

From the darkness ahead of them burst a line of a dozen or so knights, fully armed, the fury of battle on them. They broke into the square beneath the Langtorr, which attracted the defending yfelgopes who streamed around several buildings in an obvious attempt to ambush them.

“There’s Alex!” Freya exclaimed, pointing him out.

“God save him! Look at him go!”

Alex fought confidently and viciously, swinging his large sword in wide, well-placed, deadly arcs. When he didn’t have an enemy, he was shouting orders to the others and lending assistance to those who needed it. Ecgbryt fought near him, raising his axe in the air and pulling it down in devastating strikes that broke through spears, swords, shields, and skulls.

The knights made short work of them. Only about half were killed-the rest ran off when they saw the way the fight was turning. Alex shouted to the knights not to pursue but to regroup, and then they continued their sweep through the city.

But they were not the only ones fighting. In other parts of the city, Freya could see other shadows clashing.

After perhaps half an hour, the sounds of ringing steel and cries of exclamation grew less frequent. The movement of the knights slowed, and instead of swarming, they started to cluster in groups heading toward the centre of the city, toward the Langtorr.

“Is it safe to leave, do you think?” Freya asked.

“I should hope so. While the knights are still on their guard and the yfelgopes are running scared, there won’t be a better time to declare our presence.”

“Then let’s go.”

They went down the stairs and found Frithfroth, peeking through the small gap between the large iron doors. He turned a startled, rabbit-like expression up toward them as he saw them descend. Modwyn stood behind him, looking poised, ready to welcome visitors.

Freya stepped past them both and opened the door, then paused. “Wait,” she said. “I forgot something.” She dashed back down to the Sl?pereshus and came back a minute later.

“Did you get what you need?” Vivienne asked.

“Yes. Shall we go?” Freya paused with one hand on the iron door and looked back at Modwyn. “Are you coming?”

Modwyn took a step forward and then stopped immediately. She was obviously torn. Without waiting for her to make up her mind, Freya pushed open the door.