Valkyria (2 page)

He had given her flowers, and then they
had watched the stars together as the moon rose into the sky. He
had been such a caring and romantic young man. Her brother couldn’t
possibly have been right about him.

Caim Village itself was small, more of
hamlet than a village. Between the sides of the wooden wall that
encircled the entire community was nothing more than a handful of
wattle and daub huts. Along the wall were five guard posts but they
were usually unoccupied. A shallow stream stretched through the
western side of the village, coming down from the low lying
mountains a few leagues north.

Ma’am Erey’s house, with its
beautifully thatched roof and wooden walls, lay at the southern
side with the cemetery next to it. Her house was the closest thing
the village had to a temple. Einar would always say it was fitting
for a crone to be next to her bed.

On the eastern side was Gafer’s Farm,
although calling it a farm was more to be polite than say the
honest truth. In reality it was just another hut, only a little
larger than the others, with a vegetable patch outside. However,
during the winter nothing had grown there except weeds, and now old
Gafer was too ill to tend to it.

Beyond that, there was nothing of great
importance in the little hamlet, but Alexia loved it. It may be old
and somewhat forgotten by the rest of Suhran but it was
home.

Alexia reached their hut, the door made
out of an old sign post Einar had found and reassembled after the
original door flew off in a storm. The hut itself was an
oval-shaped hovel at best, but it was the only home she had known.
Yet before their mother had passed, they used to live in a large
wooden farm house many leagues south, or so Einar would tell
her.

Still, her mother passed away from
illness and they lost their farm, their home and their livelihood.
If ıt weren’t for their Uncle Kahn in Caim, they would have had no
place to stay. The day he fell to an infected wolf bite had
devastated the young Alexia, and forced Einar to grow into a man
too young.

The door creaked open, its hinges
singing like a thousand dying mice. Inside the hut the sun shone in
like a beam through the small window hole above a small stove older
than Ma’am Erey and old Gafer combined, or so Alexia thought. On
the right wall was a table Einar had built from tree trunks he
found uprooted by the great storm four years before, and on the
left were two sacks on the floor next to a pair of sheep skin
pillows they had traded three wolf breasts for. To the immediate
left of the door was the wardrobe old Gafer gave them after Uncle
Kahn died. It had been a strange mourning gift, but a useful and
welcome one.

Alexia took her staff from inside the
wardrobe, which only truthfully held four sets of rags for herself
and three for Einar, then she left the house and headed toward the
south gate to meet her brother. He had already dragged the meat
cart to the gate, and by the river that ran down his face she
guessed he had done it alone.

As usual there was no guard at the
south gate. Alexia could only remember ever seeing a guard there
once in her life. Einar used his shoulders to lift up the locking
bar on the gate before dragging it open across the dirt and rock.
They wheeled the cart out together and the Einar pulled the gate
shut once again.

They would have to pull the cart
through the woods by hand because horses were far too expensive for
anyone in Caim to even dream about. However, Einar had assured her
that all she had to do was stay with the cart and nothing would
attack her.

The oak trees of the forest rose up, as
if they were trying to claw their way out of the ground and into
the heavens. The forest itself was often dark, the sun half
forbidden to enter it, and the ground was covered in nettles and
dead bushes with the odd flower dotted around. It was horrifying,
yet strangely beautiful in Alexia’s eyes.

“
So how much do we
need?”

“
About four cubs should be
enough until Rin comes back,” replied Einar. “They’ll be easier for
us to move as well.”

Fours cubs would have been the same
amount of meat as two adults. That much she knew about hunting from
all of Einar’s tales. He was trying to make things easier on her,
she was sure of that

The cart rolled along a winding path
that seemed as if it had been made by some giant serpent. The path
itself would eventually lead them to Caim Lake, the village’s
namesake, where old Gafer used to go fishing in his youth, or so he
would say. The silence of the forest filled her ears and made the
hair on her arms stand tall.

“
A merchant from Saylae was
here a good few days ago,” she said, hoping to break the silence
with conversation. “He was telling stories from the mainland. He
said that they making some sort of new steam motor that uses water
to move airships five times bigger than any made before. They found
some new materials earlier in the spring off the coast. Don’t you
think that’s exciting? Bigger ships filling the skies. Maybe they
could even take us over to the mainland!”

“
Five times bigger, you
say? Well if they succeed you can guarantee they will come back to
the Ringlands in force and take away our independence once
again.”

“
He didn’t say it was
Alexandria,” she replied. “He said it was the Three Peaks region,
so they wouldn’t come here anyway. But why do you hate the
Alexandria Empire so? They had left the Ringlands before you were
even born.”

“
That doesn’t matter. We
are Ringlanders. We had a culture and a language. They took our
people as slaves, forbid the use of our own tongue and force fed us
the Arcana, whether they be real or not. The erased us and made us
into what they wanted us to be.”

“
But Ma’am Erey tells the
truth. The Arcana are real and they guide us. I learnt it
today!”

“
So she says, but the
people of the Ringlands were just fine before they were told of the
Arcana. They were happy and had enough food and fun. Yet look at us
now. We are scavengers looking for scraps from the mainland that
the merchants bring over. We eat food that isn’t seen as good
enough for the Alexandria Empire, and even then we cannot eat
enough of it because all our money goes to the Temple.”

Alexia held her tongue. Whenever they
spoke of the Arcana and the Temple, it always lasted for hours on
end with nothing good coming from it. Perhaps silence had been
better after all.

Einar raised an open hand suddenly and
the pair stopped the cart. He glared over to the right before
putting one finger to his mouth then point into the forest. In the
darkness Alexia could just make out seven sleeping cubs. They only
needed four, but seven would be able to feed them for a full
week.

“
We don’t need to hunt
today then,” whispered Einar. “What luck.”

Alexia was sure luck had nothing to do
with it but now was not the time to say anything. Einar took his
daggers from their sheaths and dropped silently to the floor. He
slithered along the ground making less noise than the birds in the
trees, and within a few short minutes he had slit the first cub’s
neck whilst holding its mouth shut to silence it. He carefully went
from one to the next, amazingly without waking them. Rin had taught
him well, Alexia could see that much.

After all seven had been slit, he
beckoned Alexia over to help carry the carcasses to the cart. One
by one they hauled the cubs by the legs, but when they went back
for the seventh, they were stopped by a rustling in the bushes
behind Alexia. In a flash Einar launched himself onto her, bringing
both of them to the ground as a much larger wolf leaped over them.
The beast landed and spun to face them, its teeth clear as daylight
and a torrent of saliva falling down.

“
The mother!” The wolf
hurtled toward them, but Einar simply smiled. “Dumb beast.” He
jumped into the air directly at the wolf and landed on its back,
driving the daggers into the animal’s hind legs, causing it to drop
in pain. Einar hastily span around and slit its throat as
well.

“
Well that was exciting,”
he said.

“
Exciting!? Are you a
fool!? I could have died.”

“
I knew it was coming,
didn’t I? You’re not hurt are you?”

As much as it angered her, Einar was
right. He had seemed prepared for it, even knowing what to do when
the wolf charged him. She hadn’t even got a slight
scratch.

“
Now then,” continued
Einar, “we have seen cubs and an adult. I say we take three of the
cubs and the adult to Saylae tomorrow before they get too old. We
could get about twelve coins for the mother alone.”

“
Twelve coins?” That much
money was dreamed of by most of the people in Caim. “Are you sure?
We could buy a chicken for twelve coins.”

“
And bread with the money
from the cubs. Fresh bread at that,” said Einar, his lips moving up
high in the corner before his tongue rolled over them.

“
Fresh bread and chicken,
now that would be delightful,” replied Alexia.

*~*~*

2

SER LONTHAN

The streets of Alexandra City were
filled as always, overflowing with merchants, peasants and nobles
all mixed together. The blend of bright colours and torn rags was
almost comical for Ser Lonthan as he marched through the market
stalls. The Upper Plate market had become a far more fashionable
after the Royal Guard stopped admitting the commoners for the Lower
City into the area. Yet most people seemed to be shopping with
their eyes rather than their coin purse.

A large brass automaton strolled passed
him, the gears creaking as they turned and steam pouring out of two
exhausts beside its head. Ser Lonthan had to retrace his steps back
a handful of paces to avoid the mindless machine stepping on his
feet.

On the left was a small alleyway that
was blanketed in darkness and shadow from the tall buildings rising
up on each side. The darkness was contrasted, however, by the
Golden Steps in the distance that lead up to next Plate and the
Royal Estate. The steps passed underneath the Hanging Barracks,
which in turn were held up by magnificent chains with links the
size of elephants and were connected by bridges suspended between
themselves and the castle.

A group of stone dragons stood watch
over the alleyway whilst a half dozen young women mingled with one
another, their dress flaunting far too much skin for Ser Lonthan’s
taste.

“
One coin, one hour,” said
one of the girls as he walked past. She couldn’t have been more
than seventeen, not even in adulthood yet. Still, he knew everyone
had to work, one way or another, so he simply smiled and shook his
head before continuing along the alley.

Even someone in the upper levels of
society such as Ser Lonthan knew what life was like in the city.
Alexandra was the pinnacle of the Alexandria Empire, but also of
division. The city was built on four levels; the Lower City, the
Lower Plate, the Upper Plate and the Royal Estate.

To live on the Upper Plate was to live
a life of luxury and splender at the expense of those who lived on
the plates below you. Shop keepers, butlers and maids were
typically from the Lower Plate, whilst servants and working ladies
made their way up from the Lower City.

The Lower Plate was very much a
“working man’s” place to live. The way of life was simple; work,
earn and eat. Whilst not as splendid as the Upper Plate, the state
of living was not all too bad.

That could not be said for those
unfortunate enough to live in the Lower City.

The Lower City itself was not a plate,
but rather the only part of Alexandra that was actually on the
ground. Effectively a slum, the Lower City comprises a section of
the Old World’s city of London, walled off from the outside to keep
the Creatures out. The populace is made of those born in the Lower
City, destined to forever be the lowest form of society, or those
sent there as punishment.

Ser Lonthan had known a man one who had
been sent to live there. He had been a fine knight, but had be
found in bed with another man’s wife. Last time Ser Lonthan had
visited him, he had been a shell of a man, his body brittle and
broken. Lonthan would never allow such a fate to befall
him.

He hurried along until he reached a
door that sported two flags, one on each side. The left was blue
with a silver trim and curled dragon upon it. The right was the
same design but red with a gold trim and dragon. Each dragon held a
single rose in its mouth; the sign of the Dragoons.

“
So this is where you live,
is it?” Ser Lonthan rapped twice on the door as the first drop of
rain from the coming clouds fell on his head. Autumn was surely
starting now, as it only rained in Alexandria during
autumn.

The door opened slowly but silently, as
if the hinges had been freely oiled. A stocky man with more
wrinkles on his face than an a piece of old parchment peered out of
the crack.

“
Ah, Ser Lonthan, my dear
fellow. What can I do for you milord?”

“
Letting me enter would be
a good start Wilfred.”

“
Oh, of course, milord.
What shall I say is the purpose of this visit?”