Chapter XXXV

Word spread of the battle of Berknot. According to most versions of the story now, Johath and twenty other men slew one-hundred Nihilite soldiers. Obviously the numbers were off, but in order to make the battle seem as impressive as it truly was the numbers had to be exaggerated. In any case, the stories were inspiring, and peasants from the various rural villages of Xane flocked to the Grand Duke's armies as they marched toward the bridge they planned to hold against the Nihilites, and begged to join the military. When the Grand Duke got word of it, he agreed to form a peasant militia, and told them that they could help with the defense of Dead-River Pass when the time came. As far as he was concerned, they needed all the soldiers they could spare to defend that area when the Nihilites arrived.

As the commoners fled Xane to the north or south they were told to take all food supplies with them, and anything they could not carry was to be given to the Grand Duke's armies, burned, or poisoned. Even the livestock they couldn't take with them were to be killed and left to rot, and the fields of crops were to be trampled and destroyed, much to the protest of the common-folk. This was done because the Nihilite army would soon march through there, and they didn't want the Nihilites to be able to loot any more food from the villages along the way. Even the strongest armies in history could be defeated by hunger, it was a deadly weapon.

The Grand Duke's army reached Fleurnon Bridge, one of the biggest bridges in all of Arx, and the only one in the County of Xane that would be left standing soon. Engineers arrived at the other two bridges and worked on ways to destroy them completely, and make sure that not even their remains could be helpful for the Nihilites to build new bridges in their place. Soon the other two bridges were reduced to splinters and rubble, and most of those parts were completely cleared away.

The Grand Duke's men immediately set to work fortifying Fleurnon Bridge and the rocky grounds surrounding it. They built an archway with a gate on the side from which the Nihilites would have to cross, and barred that gate. Just beyond the gate they placed bear-traps and the like, made to at least slow the first few enemy soldiers who attempted to cross. On the opposite shore they built tall watch-towers, from which archers could fire arrows down upon any who attempted to cross the bridge. They also set in place on the bridge extra stone tiles and the like, intended to make the ground just slightly uneven and trip up their enemies. A ballista was set up on the opposite end of the bridge, ready to fire the instant the enemy broke through the gate. The Grand Duke was well-satisfied that the casualties the Nihilites would face would be enormous, and he smiled to himself at the thought of so many of them dying at this bridge.

Back at the Grand Duke's fortress, though, still sat the Savages, impatiently waiting for the time when they could actually make good use of themselves. They'd been passing the time with gambling, drinking games, sparring, and the occasional bawdy song, but none of this could keep their minds off the fact that they'd been hired to fight and they weren't doing any fighting. Several of them decided to take their complaints to Lucio.

“We've been in this castle for over a month now,” Atrocity told him. “And still we haven't shed a single drop of blood.”

“We're getting paid even for waiting,” Lucio said. “I support the idea of getting paid for doing nothing, myself.”

“It's not the pay that we're concerned with,” Angelo the Blood-Letter said. “It's the utter lack of action.”

“The bond that holds these brothers and sisters together,” said Eliseo, the priest of Vaali, “Is the blood of the enemies we slay. Without that blood there is no bond, and without that bond there's nothing to stop us from killing one another. Vaali demands that I take vengeance soon, whether for myself upon mine own enemies, or for my employers upon theirs.”

“Face it, Lucio,” said Atrocity. “You chose a terrible job for us. We'll sit in this castle and rot, and by the time the Grand Duke has any use for us, if he ever does, we'll be too fat and weak to be of any real use.”

“What would you have me do? Cancel the contract? Leave all that money behind and just...head back west?”

“May I propose a different idea?” Eliseo asked. “We leave the castle and find the Nihilite army, offer our services to them instead of to the Grand Duke. They may pay less, but at least they'll make use of us rather than have us sit here on our hands.”

“Haven't you even heard of what the Nihilites fight for?” Lucio asked. “They want nothing short than the destruction of the world!”

“That's likely just Arxian propaganda,” Eliseo said. “To the Arxians any world without their faith in it is as good as destroyed. Besides, even if the Nihilites did want to cause the end of the world it's absurd to think they could find the power to do so, even if they did destroy the kingdom of Arx. Even if they somehow killed the Agalmite God they'd still have to fight all of the gods of the West. Vaali alone could defeat all of their demons.”

“I suppose you have a point,” Lucio conceded. “We'll put it to a vote, then.”

Lucio gathered all of the rest of the Savages together in the barracks, away from the eyes and ears of the Grand Duke's men. He let Eliseo make his proposal again, and make his argument for why it was a good idea. Once Eliseo was done, Lucio addressed the Savages, “So we have a few options here. First, we can stay here and wait however long it takes for the Grand Duke to send us into battle, if he ever does. Second, we can leave here as fast as we can, find the Nihilite army, and join them. Third, we can take over this fortress, kill the Grand Duke's soldiers, take all the money, goods, and food we want, and then seek out the Nihilite army. Who is in favor of option one?” No one raised their hands to this one, and Lucio knew just how truly on edge all these men and women were. “Who is in favor of option two?” Many Savages raised their hands, but not the majority. Lucio had a feeling where this was going. “Option three?” At this option most of the Savages raised their hands, even some who had previously voted for option two. Those who changed their votes probably did not want to seem like cowards for not voting that way. “Then it's settled.”

Obviously there's no such thing as a good time for a betrayal to happen, but there are some times that are far worse than others. With most of the Grand Duke's men off to fight the Nihilites, the Grand Duke himself not present to lead the remaining soldiers in his fortress in battle, and the Savages already having a thorough understanding of the fortress' layout, this was probably the worst time for such a betrayal to happen.

Lucio and the Savages approached the largest group of the Grand Duke's soldiers, as if merely wishing to speak to them, and then, when they were within arm's reach, struck them down with their weapons. The unsuspecting soldiers had barely time to shout before they fell, and when other soldiers came out to react to the screams they met Lucio's arrows. The Savages felt so alive, and grinned wildly as they cut down the Grand Duke's men. Most of the servants in the fortress were smart enough to flee from the Savages, but some picked up the weapons of fallen soldiers and attempted to fight them. Angelo laughed as a servant came after him with a sword. He indulged the servant's bravery for a few moments, allowed him to take several stabs at Angelo, which Angelo evaded. Once he’d had his fun, Angelo stabbed the servant several times with his rapier; in the elbow, in both wrists, in both cheeks, and finally in the stomach before he kicked him onto the ground and left him to bleed out. One soldier was fortunate enough to strike down one of the Savages, stabbing him through the heart, but this good fortune was soon met with misfortune. Eliseo saw his comrade fall, and prayed to his god of vengeance, “Vaali, I ask you to avenge my fallen friend!”

The soldier who'd struck down a Savage suddenly stopped and touched his chest. He'd felt the pain of a blade sliding between his ribs, splitting open his skin, and he could feel the blood pouring out of the wound, but there was no cut in his armor. The same wound he'd dealt to the Savage had been dealt to him, magically, and he fell on his face.

Maximilian, the giant, swung his gargantuan sword around in wide arcs, sending the Grand Duke's soldiers, or parts of them, flying across the fortress. All the while he sang an old folk song;

“I am a wee laddie, hard, hard is my fate,

I have travelled this country both early and late,

I courted a wee lass,

I did her adore;

Though she has denied me,

I'll try her once more.

At the late hour of midnight when souls are at rest,

I think of my true love with hope in my breast,

Saying, 'The time it is coming and that you will see,

When I'll be with my true love and she'll be with me.'”

Every time Atrocity slew a new enemy she held up his body, like a shield, to block incoming blows and arrows. This forced her enemies to mutilate the bodies of their allies. “What's wrong? Why are you stabbing him like that? I thought he was your friend?” she cackled. It was not the laugh of someone truly enjoying herself, this laugh was forced, a means of breaking her enemies' spirits.

Lucio fought his way to the door of the treasury, and grabbed the guard standing at the door. He kicked the sword out of the guard’s hand as he went to draw it and held a knife to his neck. “Which key opens it? Tell me!” The guard slowly took the key-ring from his belt and held up the one that unlocked the vault. “Thank you,” Lucio said before he slashed the guard's throat and kicked him off to the side. With the key in hand he unlocked the treasury and the Savages took all of the gold inside as the few surviving guards all fled the fortress. The Savages stole a few wagons and the horses to pull them. They loaded them up with whatever supplies, goods, and riches they could find, and left the fortress.

Lucio knew that the Grand Duke would be gathering troops at Dead-River Pass, so they would need to use another pass further south, one far too small to move a large army through, but large enough for the Savages to pass through easily, Wasp-Sting Pass.

Meanwhile, in Nihilus, Kalvyn Silverlocke and his growing army marched on the city of Garro. Garro had long been a wealthy city, with constant trade throughout all the regions of Nihilus. In spite of the poverty of the rest of the kingdom, the rich of Garro lived well. The city was mostly run by rich bankers, the few who were too powerful even for Therion to throw in prison under suspicion of conspiracy. It was also full of the wealthy who had made their fortunes selling cheap goods to Therion's army, such as boots, pots and pans, saddles, shovels, and so on.

In spite of how wealthy the city was overall, this did not mean that the majority of its citizens lived well, not by any means. In fact, the overwhelming majority of the citizens barely scraped by to make a living. Those who had jobs worked for the powerful bankers and merchants, and were paid paltry sums for their back-breaking work. They lived rat-infested hovels and slept in lice-filled beds, eating maggoty meat and moldy bread to survive. Only their working conditions matched how bad their living conditions were. The merchants had set up factories for them to work in with cheap equipment. Kilns that often burned their arms when they loaded clay pots in to be baked, smelters that leaked, dripping molten metal onto the floors, tools that broke constantly, causing all sorts of injuries. Those who, due to the poor equipment, ended up too injured to continue working there, simply lost their jobs and were replaced by other desperate souls. Once they lost their jobs they became beggars, unable to make a living, for the rich were far too stingy to give away their money to the “idle” and “lazy,” and those who were so inclined to be generous or understanding had no money to spare.

Crime was a constant problem in the city, but one only the poor had to worry about. There used to be a large, city-guard force many years ago, but the individual, wealthy families offered most of the city guardsmen jobs as personal bodyguards, groundskeepers, and thugs. Now with so few guards watching the streets a poor man could be murdered for his rags of clothes in broad daylight, in front of hundreds of witnesses, and the murderer could expect to get away with it.

Furthermore there was the issue of conscription. While still preparing for the war, General Meriel had gone from city to city, conscripting the young and impressionable men and boys of all the major cities, training them to be her little war criminals. When she conscripted a young man or boy, his father or mother could pay a large sum of money to keep him home rather than sending him off to war, twenty-thousand vappae. Many wealthy merchants and bankers had saved their sons' lives in this fashion, but this was a luxury the poor did not have. Most of them could save up money their entire lives and never make enough to pay that sum.

The very fact that so many were poor and so few were rich created a very interesting strategic advantage for Kalvyn; the poor outnumbered the rich three-hundred to one. Even the few bodyguards who protected the rich and did relatively well for themselves only had the advantage of being well-armed, for they were still outnumbered one-hundred to one by the poor of Garro. The city guards were struggling to get by as well, because the magistrates of the city, most of which were rich merchants and bankers, weren't about to tax themselves, and other merchants and bankers had bribed them not to levy any taxes against them either. As such, it wouldn't be hard to get the city-guardsmen to look the other way, or even join in, when Kalvyn started the uprising.

Most of Kalvyn's warriors waited in the woods outside of the city, camped out and waiting for the order to charge in. Kalvyn sent in several of his agents ahead of time to set the stage for this revolt. Since the commoners were almost all illiterate, it started with a whispering campaign. Kalvyn's agents would go around the city, speaking to the poor about the injustices they suffered, and reminding them that they had neighbors who felt the same way.

“The rich can't just let us all starve and die like this!”

“They treat us as lazy, but it is they who haven't worked!”

“Rather than making a more modest fortune and affording us better equipment they set their minds on making the largest fortunes they can and squeezing every penny out of us with their cheap tools and shoddy factories!”

Injustices that the common-folk of Garro had become so accustomed to that they barely even noticed them any more were now constantly at the forefronts of everyone's minds. Furthermore, Kalvyn's agents had succeeded in not only getting everyone to be angry about the injustices against themselves, but appealing to their compassion they'd gotten them angry over the injustices done to their neighbors. Now it was more than a personal cause, it was a righteous cause.

“Remember Croge, the man you used to work with in the factory?”

“Aye, he was a good man. Sad what happened to him. Lost his legs to the furnace and became a beggar.”

“You know he was murdered?”

“What?”

“Aye, poor Croge had his throat slit in the middle of the marketplace, in front of seven rich men and their bodyguards. They just looked the other way, did nothing.”

“That's an outrage!”

The city-guardsmen were being riled up too. “You're the only one watching that district during those ten hours?”

“Aye, ridiculous that. Sheriff says if there's another murder in my district on my watch I lose my job, but I don't have a hundred eyes!”

“Maybe one or two more guards in that district might be in order?”

“Aye, but we can't get any more guards hired, we don't have the budget, and most of those with able bodies and military experience can make a better living as a merchant or banker's bodyguard anyway. So the sheriff is doing the only thing he can, cracking the whip harder at we few and threatening us with our jobs if we don't achieve the impossible!”

With the whole city ready to riot, citizens and guards alike, it was finally time to spread word of Kalvyn's arrival in the city. “There's a man who says he can lead us all to a better future! He's having a rally tomorrow in the city square!” The common-folk were all abuzz about this news, nearly everyone wanted to attend this rally and be a part of the uprising that this mysterious “Kalvyn” was starting. Word reached the ears of several rich merchants and bankers, but even this was part of the plan.

The crowd gathered in the square. Everyone talked about how they wanted to see this “Kalvyn” who promised them better days and freedom. Kalvyn purposely waited ten extra minutes, until everyone in the crowd began to notice that he was late.

“Where is he?”

“Is this just a hoax?”

“Where's Kalvyn?”

“The revolutionary isn't here?”

“You think he got arrested?”

“More likely he never existed.”

As the crowd became more and more incredulous as to the reason Kalvyn wasn't present, Kalvyn surprised them all by emerging not from within one of the buildings nearby, but from within the crowd. He was dressed as a leper, covered from head to toe in cloth, and he threw off the cloth and walked to the head of the crowd, standing on a wooden box in front of the clock-tower. Many of the people of Garro had never even seen one of the dark-skinned men of Subra, so his appearance shocked all of them, as well as the fact that he'd been standing amongst them the whole time.

“People of Garro!” Kalvyn began, his voice loud and deep. “You have suffered too long under the oppression of the rich of Garro, all while the King does nothing! he profits from this oppression while you struggle to feed yourselves and your families! Think of every outrage you have suffered to this day, your friends whom you've seen fed to the beasts of industry, their bodies sacrificed so that the rich can line their pockets with gold and fill their beds with whores! They give us no work, pay us so little for the work we do, bleed us dry, and then tell us we're poor because we're lazy? How dare they! That's your labor that made their expensive homes! That's your sweat that made their luxurious, clean beds! That's your tears that fed their fat, gluttonous bellies full of gourmet food! That's your blood that's shed so that they can feel safe at night! No more! I say no more! The rich must suffer as we have been made to suffer! They must be dragged out of their homes and punished! Spread the wealth that they have stolen from you, take back what's yours and none shall have to live in poverty again!”

Much as his words had stirred them up, and he knew that, Kalvyn also knew that it was one thing for a crowd of people to agree that they needed to do something about the suffering they'd been forced to endure, it was another for them to believe that the man riling them up could also lead them into battle. For this reason, Kalvyn's agents made sure not to hide the uprising from the eyes and ears of the merchants and bankers.

A magistrate in the city, one “Lord Croger,” had heard of the uprising and decided that the best way to deal with Kalvyn Silverlocke was to do so publicly. He ordered his thugs to arrest Kalvyn as soon as he had finished his speech, in front of everyone, to convince the poor of the city that they were impotent against the powers that be. If Kalvyn was foolish enough to resist arrest then the men Croger sent would strike him down. If he gave up easily and came quietly it would show to all of the people that he was a coward, not fit to lead any of them.

And so, just as Kalvyn stopped speaking, four men with swords and shields approached Kalvyn Silverlocke, two on each side. “Outsider, you are under arrest for stirring up rebellion.” Not just four men were sent after Kalvyn either, many more stood on the edges of the crowd now, weapons at the ready, watching Kalvyn. If he resisted, they would all undoubtedly step in to attack him. Kalvyn would get a chance to prove not only his prowess as a warrior, but also his brilliance as a strategist.

Kalvyn gave a defeated expression, as if about to give up, and stepped down off of the wooden box. Then, in a flash, he drew his broadsword from where it was hiding, under his coat, and beheaded the nearest thug. He kicked the wooden box into the face of one of the others nearby. As the other two moved in at him from both sides, he side-stepped both stabs, grabbed the arm of one of the two men with his free hand, and threw him into the other. The two of them stabbed each other and crumpled onto the ground. Just as the fourth man, the one who'd taken the wooden box to the face, was about to recover, Kalvyn moved in and beheaded him too. All of this happened in less than two seconds, and most of the crowd weren't even entirely sure what they'd just seen. To those who blinked or looked away for a fraction of a second it looked like the men all just fell dead and Kalvyn now had a sword that seemed to come out of nowhere and was coated in their blood.

It took the other thugs a second to react to this, but they all soon started rushing in, expecting that Kalvyn would fight back, of course, and that many of them would die, but in the process they'd earn their gold. Yes, Croger had managed to convince these men to be willing to die for him, because the families of those who died in his service were well-compensated for their loss, so long as their deaths contributed to them achieving whatever Croger had set them all out to do.

But none of these men's families would be compensated for their deaths, first and foremost because they would fail to capture Kalvyn, and second of all because by the time the day was through there would be no employer to compensate those families. From within the crowd, hiding in plain sight, and dressed as commoners, came Kalvyn's agents. They hit the thugs by surprise and slew them all with knives and short-swords in a matter of seconds.

With all of the thugs dead and the crowd in silent awe, Kalvyn cleaned his sword, replaced the wooden box, and continued to speak. “Ally with me and you will have a military force the rich cannot match. For all their gold they are but men and women who will sweat when retribution comes for them. You will be well-armed, as you can see I am, and together we shall put an end to the injustices that all of you have suffered for far too long!”

More of Kalvyn's agents began to arrive in the city square, handing out weapons to the peasants gathered there. A few of the city-guardsmen also arrived, offering their services in putting an end to the city's corruption.

The wealthy families of Garro would be hit by surprise. Croger had reassured them that his thugs would take care of the rebellion before it amounted to anything. “They've risen up before, threatened to tear us down, and it's always amounted to nothing.”

“That's right,” Walson, one of the rich bankers, said. “They know they need us, otherwise there wouldn't be a city of Garro. Who'd employ them if there weren't any of us? You need people with business sense to run a city like this.”

And so it was that the wealthy families were all at supper when the riots began. In previous riots the poor had looted and ransacked their own neighborhoods in misguided, wanton violence. This time, with Kalvyn's leadership, they reached the gated community of Garro Hill, at the highest point in the city. The wealthy of the city had built a wall around the most expensive houses and set up an iron gate to keep them separate from the common rabble living everywhere else. The magistrates had ordered the sheriff to make sure that city guards were always watching the gate, using the people's own tax money to keep them out of the nicest part of the city. However, since more and more of the city guards were getting jobs as bodyguards the sheriff found his men stretched thin, he could barely afford to place two guards there at any time. Obviously these two guards were no match for the crowd that rushed the gate, and they ran away at the sight of them, allowing the rioting citizens of Garro to tear down the gate and storm Garro Hill.

“Do not burn their homes!” Kalvyn called out to the crowd. “Make them watch as you take their homes back for the people of Garro! Make each house a home for the children of those who lost their lives to their greed, or a hospital for those who lost their health or their limbs!”

Croger heard the shouting outside from his dining room, where he sat down to supper alone. “Alden,” he said, calling one of his hirelings. “Make them disperse.” he thought it was nothing more than a protest, a bunch of peasants all angry that their “hero,” Kalvyn Silverlocke had been arrested.

Alden took his crossbow and walked out the front door to confront the crowd. Moments later Alden's dead body was thrown back through the door, breaking it down in the process, and Croger stood up with a start as the people came storming into his house, shouting and cursing his name.

“Croger! I’m going to tear out your bowels and feed them to you!”

“I’m gonna break your legs!”

“You pampered pansie!”

Seeing what was going on, Croger rushed over to the nearest window and scrambled to force it open, but he'd long-since put expensive locks on the windows in order to keep thieves out. As his other bodyguards rushed to his defense and were cut down instantly by the overwhelming numbers they faced, Croger ran upstairs to try to find a place to hide, all the while having to duck and dodge as stones, bricks, and pieces of tile were being thrown at him.

Croger crawled on the floor of his bedroom and hurried under his bed. He huddled under there and tried to be as silent as he could. He could hear the many many pairs of feet running up the stairs, like a thundering stampede. “We'll find you!” he heard one of the voices cry out.

he heard them open the doors of his wardrobe, throw his furniture around, smash his mirrors, and break his collection of glass animals. Then the blankets of his bed were thrown off and two of the rioters knelt down and spotted him hiding underneath. “There you are!” They reached under the bed and grabbed him by his hair and his arms, pulling him out from under the bed.

“We thought you were trying to escape,” one of the rioters said. “Let's help you with that.” They broke open the window in his bedroom hoisted him up into the air.

“Please!” Croger cried out. “Don't! I'll give you whatever you want!”

“Out you go!” they shouted as they threw him out the window. Since it was only the second story the fall didn't kill him, but he was certainly hurt, with a dislocated shoulder and several broken ribs after he hit the ground outside.

he looked up to see all of his neighbors kicked out of their homes as well, some of them beaten and kicked on the ground.

“You going to pay so I don't have to go to war too?”

“Sorry, your legs are broken. You're fired!”

From within, the city of Garro tore itself apart. The poor took back everything they felt the rich had stolen from them. The rioters had completely taken the city, and once the riot was done Kalvyn had even more warriors dedicated to his cause.

As he said, King Therion knew about the suffering that was going on in Garro and did nothing about it. It was he who had even made many of Garro's wealthy men so rich, allowing them to bleed the poor dry like this. Their vengeance was not complete, and they felt, as Kalvyn wanted them to feel, that it would not be so until they lit Therion's funeral pyre.