Rovie crept along a tall stone wall and tried not to look at the gibbets swinging above their heads. A skeletal body here and there moaned weakly for help. The gibbets lined the perimeter of the outer wall to serve as a warning to the townspeople. Many of the people interred within had long since died, and the bodies had been picked apart by the crows that were now watching them curiously. To his relief, Grestel didn’t seem to be in any of them.

It was the dead of night. Logran and his men had led the way into the heavily guarded town of Corith, leaving a pile of bodies in their wake. The infiltrators each carried a musket slung across their back, scavenged from the bodies of the dead guards. However, these were under strict orders that they were only to be used when things got desperate. Knives were more suitable for dispatching guards without alerting the entire town.

Rovie held his breath as he climbed over the body of Lest guard. He looked to be a young man perhaps two years older than he and was staring up at the stars with glassy eyes. The deep cut across his neck was still fresh. Another guard lay dead on the other side of the reinforced wooden gate, and Loric was among the dozen men on that side already in position. Soon, everyone on Rovie’s side was in position, and they waited with bated breath for the advanced party that had already climbed in to let them in.

Soon, the gates swung open. Logran watched as his handpicked raiders silently filed through the gate and into the small courtyard. A gallows stood on a raised wooden platform in the middle of the courtyard in front of a large, intimidating stone keep. The building stood four storeys tall and had a fearsome reputation amongst the people of Loz. It was here that those suspected of aiding the rebellion were detained and questioned. The arsenal Logran was after also happened to be in the keep.

Logran gestured for them to hide out of sight while he and three other men flattened themselves against the doors. Rovie hid around the corner where he found the bodies of four more guards propped up against a wall. He was impressed with Logran’s timing as the first rays of the sun began to creep over the horizon. The doors to the keep were barred from within and were only opened at dawn when the night shift guards were to be relieved. He glanced over at Loric who was eying the keep with worried eyes.

Rovie jumped as the steel doors of the keep creaked open, and ten bleary eyed guards came stumbling out in two untidy rows. Once the last guard had walked out the door, Logran and his men descended upon them. The first four died quietly, but one of the others sensed the struggle and turned before raising the alarm.

That was the signal for Loirc and the others to charge from around the corner and up the stairs where they quickly overwhelmed the remaining guards. Rovie and his group fanned out across the courtyard to prevent any survivors from escaping into the town. As soon as Loric and his group had engaged the guards, Logran and his men stormed the door into the keep, taking the two guards stationed inside by surprise, and dispatching them with utter ruthlessness and efficiency.

Rovie watched as Loric overwhelmed a guard with relentless blows from a blacksmith’s iron he’d borrowed from one of Logran’s men. He continued pummelling the guard, even as he fell, and only stopped when he heard Logran whistle signalling them to enter the keep. Logran’s men gave him a wide berth after seeing his handiwork, and Rovie hesitated before approaching him.

His friend was panting heavily as he trudged up the stairs. “Hey,” Rovie whispered as he tugged on Loric’s sleeve, “calm down, eh?”

The taller boy pulled himself free easily before marching up the stairs and into the keep without saying a word. Rovie cast a worried look at his friend’s handiwork before hurrying after him. Inside the keep, Loric and five other men were waiting for him in the high ceilinged main chamber. Logran led his men up the stairs to their right to where the barracks were located. Rovie watched them move silently and with purpose and felt the bile rise in his throat. He knew what they were going to do and was glad to have no part in it. Something about murdering men in their sleep didn’t sit right with him, and from what Logran had said, there were at least seventy men upstairs.

“Let’s move,” Loric said. His eyes were red and sunken. He had scarcely slept over the last three days.

Atri nodded and readied his dagger before leading the way to a room on the left. The keep was exactly as Logran described. They had gone over the layout of the keep back at Polstet so many times that he could navigate it in his sleep. They found the secret staircase behind a hidden wall in the room. There were no guards, but he could hear faint moans coming from below, and then there was the stench. It was the stench of death mixed with human waste.

He sensed Loric’s anxiety soar behind him. He turned around to look him in the eye and held up a hand to indicate patience. Ordinarily, Loric would be the one leading the way, but Logran had rightly guessed that he would be too emotional, and could easily blunder into a trap, jeopardizing the whole mission. Instead, Rovie had been placed in charge of this group and had strict instructions to keep his friend in check.

Loric took a deep breath to calm himself and cocked his head, indicating for Rovie to proceed. Rovie held Loric’s gaze for a moment to ensure his friend was calm, before continuing down the stairs, growing more fearful about what he might find with each step.

Logran had warned him, and only him about what lay in the notorious torture room. He had only given him brief details, but that was enough to make Rovie’s stomach turn. He arrived at the steel-reinforced door at the bottom of the stairs and undid the deadbolts, which slid open easily. He took a deep breath before pulling it open.

Rovie felt a wave of nausea as the overpowering stench that came spilling out assaulted his nostrils. It was a chilly autumn night outside, but the room was almost overbearingly hot. Men and women were huddled in separate barred off areas on the far end of the chamber, carelessly wallowing in their own waste. In the middle of the room, on a table were gleaming metal tools of torture. Arrayed around the room were a rack and iron chairs with straps to immobilize victims while various atrocities and indignities were inflicted upon them. However, there was no sign of the tormentors.

Buckets were stacked against one of the walls. Drawn to them by some macabre force, Rovie looked into them and began retching. One was full of eyes, another filled with fingers, another filled with ears, and another filled with noses.

“Grestel?” Loric cried frantically as he rushed over to the women’s cage, “Grestel are you in here?”

Rovie looked up and fervently hoped she wasn’t. Then, in the corner of his eye, he saw raven black hair tied in a familiar-looking braid and his heart sank as his greatest fear over the past three days came to life. He turned his head and saw her sitting in a chair in a corner, completely naked. It looked like she was asleep at first glance, but looking closer, Rovie could see that she was incredibly pale and that she wasn’t sleeping. Then, he noticed the missing ear and the split fingernails and that the steel chair she was sitting in was covered with dried blood.

“Grestel!” Loric cried, seeing her a moment later.

He rushed to her side as two of Logran’s men opened the cages. Rovie composed himself and placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“You said she would be fine!” Loric cried as he whirled around to face him.

Rovie opened his mouth but couldn’t find the words to comfort his best friend.

“Grestel…” Loric’s voice trailed off as he looked back at her and he slumped to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.

“When did she… when did she die?” Rovie asked the men who were fit enough to walk out of the cages unsupported.

“It must have been last night,” an old man replied after a moment’s thought. With only one missing eye, he was the most intact person among the freed prisoners

He shook his head sadly. “Such a pity. She was such a brave girl. Defiant right until the end.”

Rovie was filled with guilt. They’d almost made it. He looked down at Loric whose shoulders were heaving as he wept openly. “Grestel, I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

“I see this place hasn’t changed,” Rovie heard Logran say.

He turned around to see the broad-shouldered man limp down the stairs. He gave the prisoners, many of whom were still huddled in their cells, a compassionate look before speaking over his shoulder to his men, “fetch them blankets, will you.”

One of them went back upstairs to comply. Logran limped over to Loric and wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

“I know you’re hurting, but listen here,” he said with an evil twinkle in his eye, “we’ve caught the man in charge here alive if you get my meaning.

Loric gave no indication that he heard a word Logran said as he clutched Grestel’s legs.

“Don’t worry, I know what will snap you out of this,” Logran said, as he patted Loric on the back.

Rovie turned around to see Logran’s men pushing a large bald man with an ample belly down the stairs. Some of the prisoners cowered instinctively upon seeing him even though his hands were bound cruelly behind him, and his eyes were wide with fear.

“Lord Gonsin, come, your throne awaits,” Logran said jovially, as he used his brutish strength to drag one of the heavy steel chairs into the middle of the room.

“No, you can’t do this,” the bald man spluttered, “do you have any idea who I am?”

“Oh, we know exactly who you are,” Logran said with an evil look in his one eye, “I remember all too well.”

As Logran’s men forced the lord of the keep into the chair, Rovie noticed that all of them were either missing an eye, an ear, or fingers. Logran turned to the prisoners and took a deep breath.

“We’re going to give the good Earl here a taste of his own medicine,” Logran declared, “those of you who want to stay are welcome to, but those of you who haven’t the stomach for it are advised to leave.”

“Let’s get going, eh Loric?” Rovie said, patting his friend’s shoulder.

Loric released Grestel and looked at Gonsin with glazed over eyes as he was struck across the face. The earl went limp and was manhandled into the chair. He then yelped as his bindings were tightened and began thrashing again.

“Not too tight lads,” Logran said with a sickeningly sweet smile, “we wouldn’t want him to lose feeling in his extremities now, would we?”

“Loric?” Rovie said, shaking his friend urgently. He had no desire to witness what Logran and his men were about to do.

“You should stay,” Logran said, looking straight at Loric, “we’ll show you what this pig did to your girl. Then you’ll come to an understanding.”

“Please, don’t do this,” Gonsin begged, “if you release me, I’ll make sure you’ll all be rich beyond your wildest dreams. I’ll give you anything… anything!”

The earl’s pleas fell on deaf ears as Logran’s men looked between the torture implements on the table and his body.

“You go ahead,” Loric said to Rovie after a moment’s thought.

“What about Grestel?” Rovie protested as he covered her body with a sheet he found nearby. It was stained with blood, but there was nothing else close at hand.

“You handle it,” Loric said without taking his eyes off Gonsin.

Rovie looked at Grestel’s face which looked strangely at peace and knew he couldn’t leave her in this place. He began undoing her restraints. A wrinkled pair of hands that was missing two fingers appeared to help him.

Rovie looked up to see a thin, elderly man work on the restraints around her ankles. “I have a daughter her age,” the man said, “and she was determined. Too determined. They were so determined to break her that they ended up killing her.”

“That sounds like her,” Rovie remarked as he brushed a tear away.

“Were the two of you close?” the man asked kindly.

“She and my friend were closer,” Rovie replied, not able to look at Grestel’s face. Together, Rovie and the old man laid her out on the sheet and wrapped her in it.

“Where do you plan on burying her?” the old man ventured.

Rovie blinked. He hadn’t quite thought it through. All he knew was that he couldn’t leave her in this place.

“We’ll find her a spot on one of the wagons,” he said at length.

“Wagons?” the old man ventured.

Rovie nodded. “Let’s get her upstairs first. I don’t want her in the room when it begins.”

He then turned to Loric and asked, “are you sure you don’t want to come?”

Loric shook his head slightly and Rovie moved towards the door, eager to leave.

“It’s worse than a slaughterhouse in here,” one of Logran’s men remarked as Rovie started up the stairs.

Rovie put that and the earl’s fate out of his head and focused on getting Grestel up the stairs with as much dignity as possible. They joined a line of men carrying long wooden crates out of the door. A dozen horse-pulled wagons were already waiting outside and Rovie couldn’t help but be impressed at the efficiency of the whole operation. He looked at the wagons and recognized some familiar faces among the drivers.

“Ah, so you made it,” Tonsivar grinned as he made his way over to Rovie, “we’ve given the baron a bloody nose tonight, that’s for sure. Did you find your friend?”

Rovie could only look sadly at the sheet-covered body he was carrying and Tonsivar’s demeanour changed. “Oh. I’m so sorry.”

He looked around and asked, “where’s your friend? I thought the two of them were lovers.”

“He’s in the dungeon,” Rovie replied, “he wanted to… stay.”

“As for her,” Tonsivar said, “you can put her in my wagon. Do you know where you want to bury her?”

Rovie thought for a moment before saying, “Loverto if possible.”

Tonsivar raised an eyebrow before nodding. “We won’t be able to get her remains out of Loz any time soon.”

Rovie’s shoulders slumped, and he nodded, “anywhere’s fine then, I suppose.”

“I know a man who can embalm her. That will last her until spring at the very least,” Tonsivar offered, “then we’ll have plenty of time to get her to her final resting place.”

Rovie blinked. Embalming was normally reserved for very important or wealthy individuals. The only time he’d seen an embalmed body was in Loverto when some important bishop died over ten years ago. He had been a candidate for sainthood, and the people had come out in droves to see his body when it was paraded through the province.

“We can’t possibly afford that,” he said weakly.

“Don’t worry about the money,” Tonsivar replied, with a wave of his hand, “she sacrificed herself to save us. It’s the least the people of Loz can do to repay her.”

“Thank you,” Rovie whispered. He felt a hot tear roll down his cheek as he and the old man placed her body carefully on one of the wagons. He looked at her and couldn’t help but feel that Loric should be here with him and wondered where his friend was.

Rovie looked around and estimated that they were only halfway done. The sun had already appeared over the horizon and the courtyard was eerily silent.

“There’s no need to hurry if that’s what you’re worried about,” Tonsivar remarked, “there isn’t a Lest guard alive in the entire town.”

Rovie swallowed. “I thought this was an important place.”

Tonsivar nodded. “The baron’s men don’t really have the numbers to oppose us outside Conlow if Logran’s boys and mine come against them in force.”

Rovie raised an eyebrow. “So why haven’t you then?”

Rovie and Tonsivar turned as the prisoners who were able to walk unassisted were beginning to filter out of the keep and the one-eyed man replied, “because the baron is ruthless enough to burn the rest of the valley to ashes if we ever did such a thing.”

“Then it’s a good thing we’ve secured the guns, isn’t it?” Rovie remarked.

Tonsivar nodded. “The die has been cast. We are now against the clock to defeat the baron.”

“How long do you think we have?” Rovie asked.

Tonsivar shrugged. “As I understand it, the baron is still in Markvist trying to drum up support from the other nobles to act against us. He will rush back as soon as he hears of what happens here. Then he will need to organize his troops. I think we have another two weeks at best.”

Sweat ran down Rovie’s back despite the autumn chill. Things would have to move quickly indeed now, and they couldn’t afford to waste time mourning. “We’d better tell Gavik to start moving then.”

Tonsivar furrowed his eyebrows with worry. “Will he really be able to negotiate passage through the Lud Forests?”

Rovie shrugged. “They did promise him they would let him through.”

“You really met the elves?” Tonisvar asked, “I thought you were telling porkies back then.”

“We did,” Rovie nodded. He recalled those hideous creatures for the first time in weeks and shuddered.

“Are you cold?” Tonsivar asked, “we have blankets.”

Rovie shook his head. “No, I was just reminded that something terrible is afoot in these lands, and we are very much in the dark about it.”

“Do you have any details?” Tonsivar ventured.

“Not really,” Rovie replied, with a shake of his head. Tonsivar was likely to think he was mad if he began talking about misshapen beast men and portals to other dimensions. It was better that they focused on the task at hand, “but I suspect it’s why Gavik is pushing ahead with this risky venture.”

Tonsivar took a deep breath and looked at his men who were hard at work loading the wagons. “Risky it is. No doubt about that.”

Rovie hesitated before saying, “Logran’s caught some Lord named Gonsin. They’ve taken him to the dungeon.”

Tonsivar went pale and rubbed his eyepatch. “That does explain why so many of his men have gone missing,” he said at length.

“You don’t want to join them?” Rovie ventured.

Tonsivar shook his head. “I want no part in what they’re sure to do to that man. I almost pity him.”

“I was hoping you’d put a stop to it,” Rovie pressed.

“Only way I can stop them is if by putting a bullet through Logran’s head, and then somehow deal with the fallout from his men,” Tonsivar said, “the best thing we can do now is to put the earl and his fate out of our minds and focus on emptying the armoury.”

It was a dark night and Rovie stifled a yawn. He hadn’t slept at all the night before and only had an hour long nap during the day. Loading the wagons had taken them until late morning and they had separated from the rest to make their way back to Nordl on the Loz border, arriving shortly after dusk. Rovie was anxious. They had little choice but to return and risk any increased patrols by the baron’s men as there was no better place to make contact with Gavik and his men.

“It’s time,” Rovie whispered.

Loric lit a small lantern and walked to the end of the pier. This lantern was closed by metal on all sides with a small pinhole on one to permit a small shaft of light through. He carefully placed this side facing upstream.

“It’ll be good for you to get back to Boverlind, even if it’s just for a little while,” Rovie whispered as he joined his friend on the end of the pier.

Loric didn’t reply and merely pulled his cloak tighter around him. They were exposed to the elements out here and a guest of wind chilled Rovie right to the bone.

“It’ll be winter soon, eh?” Rovie remarked, feeling uncomfortable with the silence.

Loric had scarcely said five words to him since they found Grestel and Rovie had barely recognized him when he emerged from the dungeon. They said that Earl Gonsin was still alive when Rovie and Loric left Corith. Rovie suppressed a shudder. The earl’s screams had echoed through the keep every time someone opened the door to the dungeon, and he didn’t want to imagine what was being done to him in there. Rovie had also heard from one of Logran’s men that Loric had joined in soon after they began. He looked at his friend and wondered if it was true but didn’t dare to ask.

“Who goes there?” came a voice from the road. Rovie cringed. Had they been discovered again? The locals weren’t joking when they said security at the border was tight.

He looked up and saw a group of men approaching. They were on foot and disciplined enough to travel quietly and without a light, so the boys hadn’t heard or seen them coming. Rovie cursed his carelessness and their bad luck. The patrol had arrived just as they had exposed themselves by walking onto the pier. However, all of this could have been avoided if one of them had acted as a lookout.

“Extinguish the light,” Rovie said quietly, “they’re far away enough that we’d be able to slip away easily enough. We can always send you back another night.”

“There’s only five of them,” Loric said, as he slid the claymore he’d obtained from the armoury out of the sheath at his back

“Hey,” Rovie hissed as Loric made his way purposefully towards the approaching men, “you’ve been spoiling for a fight ever since we left Corith.”

Loric whirled around with such fury that Rovie took a step back. “Maybe no one would have been captured if we stood up to these thugs the last time.”

“I’m going to take out some of my frustrations on them,” Loric said dangerously, “if you’re not going to help, just say back.”

“Are we interrupting a lover’s tiff?” one of the approaching men called out mockingly. He had lit a lantern that he now held high over his head, “be warned that if you run, we’ll be forced to assume you’re one of them rebels and gun you down.”

Loric didn’t break stride. He kept his great sword low so that it was obscured by the waist-high grass around them. Rovie bit back a curse and ran after him, keeping a hand on the hilt of the long dagger. Using firearms was out of the question, even if they had them, and was likely to bring every one of Lest’s men within five miles down on them, so they’d left them with the wagons.

“Hey, hold it right there,” the man holding the lantern ordered once Loric was within ten paces of him.

Instead of stopping, Loric sped up. Once he was within striking distance, Rovie saw the glint of his greatsword as it took the man’s arm off. The lantern it was holding fell amongst the grass. Loric recovered quickly and thrust his sword through the man’s midsection, who shrieked as he fell.

Not expecting a fight, his four companions were slow to react. Loric cut the hands off one man as he was raising his rifle before decapitating him with a clean stroke. The third man lunged for Loric’s weapon and grappled for his life. Rovie darted to the side, so he was out of the remaining man’s line of sight and quickly drove his dagger through his back. The man had been so focused on Loric that Rovie achieved complete surprise. He removed the dagger and finished the man off by running it across his throat.

Rovie looked up to see Rovie still grappling with the third man. Loric towered over the man who was fighting for his life. He tugged on the great sword with all his might and to his surprise, Loric released it. Caught off balance, the man stumbled backwards. Loric smashed his fist into the man’s face. The guard saw stars but didn’t fall. Loric took the opportunity to scoop his claymore up off the ground, and with a mighty swing, cleaved the man from the top of his head down to his midsection. The man shuddered before going still.

With savage fury, Loric jerked his sword out. By the light of the moon, Rovie could see that the blade was hopelessly ruined. Loric whirled around to the first man with the wound in his midsection who was still shrieking in pain as he writhed on the ground. He walked up to him and smashed his ruined sword through the man’s mouth.

Loric cast the ruined sword aside and brushed past Rovie as he trudged back towards the pier. Rovie looked at the bodies in shock and couldn’t help but wonder if their being overcautious had cost Grestel her life. Coming to his senses, he quickly gathered up their weapons, three muskets and two spears, before hurrying after Loric.

They arrived at the end of the pier in time to see a small boat approaching from upstream. One man was in it, rowing at a slow pace as he scanned the shore. Rovie opened and closed a shutter on the lantern, giving the man the all-clear signal. The man saw it and angled his boat towards the pier and relaxed visibly upon seeing Loric’s outline.

“It’s you two,” the man said, visibly relieved.

“Hello Daglin,” Rovie said, recognising the voice, “nice of you to come.”

“Well after the last run nearly went pear-shaped, we thought it would be a good idea if someone who knew how to handle themselves came, you know?” Daglin said quickly. His head darted about as he looked at the shoreline for signs of trouble.

“Get on then, Loric,” he said impatiently, “and watch your step, I have a loaded pistol on the floor. Wouldn’t want to blow your bollocks off, eh?”

“I’m not going,” Loric said with finality.

“Eh?” Daglin blurted, the confusion clear in his voice.

“What do you mean you’re not going?” Rovie demanded, equally confused. They had decided that Loric was best served as part of Gavik’s group, “you were so excited to see the elven city.”

“More importantly, the boss says you’ll be a big help to us,” Daglin spluttered, “I shouldn’t have to remind you that our role is the most dangerous.”

“All the same, I’m not going,” Loric said stubbornly, “tell Gavik I’m sorry, and that the attack begins in two weeks.”

Daglin looked to Rovie. “You, talk some sense into your friend.”

Rovie looked up at Loric who was staring off at the village with his jaw set. He turned back to Daglin and shrugged helplessly.

“Fine,” Daglin spat, “I can’t force you to come, but you know what’s at stake here.”

Loric nodded slightly and Daglin cursed softly.

“Here,” Rovie said, as he placed the weapons of the fallen guards in the boat, “these ought to help and we can’t take them with us.”

Daglin grunted and once all the weapons were on board, he pushed the boat away and quickly cast off. “I’m sorry,” Rovie called out as loudly as he dared. He received no reply.

“What are you thinking?” Rovie asked once the boat disappeared into the night.

“That the baron is unlikely to leave Conlow when Gavik and the rest of the boys from Boverlind appear on his flank,” Loric replied. He paused before looking at Rovie. There was a savagery in his eyes that sent a chill down Rovie’s spine, “and that if we do win, he’s unlikely to make it out of the city in one piece.”

“Wait,” Rovie said, “what do you intend to do to the baron if we win?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” Loric replied before setting off down the road.

Rovie looked worriedly at his friend as they walked down the quiet road that connected Nordl to the rest of the province. There wouldn’t be much traffic down it for a while yet.

“I know that we need to follow the plan if we are to stand a chance at defeating the baron,” Loric said at length, “I give you my word that this will be my only deviation from it until that time comes.”

“And what if we decide that you’re not to be part of the group that assaults the castle itself?” Rovie demanded.

“That’s the role I’m best suited for and you know it,” Loric replied without taking his eyes off the road ahead of them. There was an edge of irritation in his voice, and for the first time in his life, Rovie was afraid of his hulking best friend.

“I’m just afraid you’re going to do something you’ll regret for the rest of your life,” Rovie said softly.

“I already have,” Loric remarked, “we the rebellion hold the power. Logran has shown me that with last night’s raid. All this cowering around has emboldened them and caused us to suffer unnecessarily under their tyranny.”

“Are you forgetting that the other lords could obliterate our rebellion if they feel threatened by us?” Rovie exclaimed, casting his fears aside.

“All the more reason for us to hurry up and secure our borders,” Loric said dangerously, “and perhaps they wouldn’t be so quick to come against us if we gave them something to fear.”

“What do you mean by that?” Rovie demanded, having the sickening feeling that he knew exactly what Loric was talking about.

Loric shrugged. “I suppose we’ll soon see who has the correct approach in all this. Gavik or Logran.”

“You’re not thinking rationally,” Rovie said, “please, take a step back and listen to yourself. Is this what Grestel would have wanted you to do?”

“Turning the other cheek has ended with her being tortured to death,” Loric roared, turning crimson as he whirled around to face Rovie. He saw that his friend had backed away with fear in his eyes, and willed himself to calm down, “besides, I’m rational enough to know that you shouldn’t be strolling around holding a bloodied dagger.”

Rovie looked down at his hand and quickly cast the dagger into the long grass. “Think about the road you’re walking down,” Rovie said as he ran to catch up to his friend, “I fear we could undo a lot of hard work and sacrifice if we don’t show restraint in the next battle.”

“I’ll worry about that when the baron is defeated,” Loric said flippantly, “you should be more focused on how we’re going to achieve victory. The deck is still very much stacked against us.”