Molyneux Rising

The world changed, but Arden Janelle did not. No matter how many faces he wore over the years, and no matter how many wars scarred the world’s surface, he found himself back in the throng of Scara Brae’s criminal world trying to make his home a better place. All the same, here he sat, king of nothing save his namesake.

“Nobody noticed I was gone.” He poured over a tankard of blood red ale, tarnished by spices and ‘winter cheer’.

“You ran a tight ship, Arden. What were you expecting?” Lilith picked at her dinner, a sorry looking steak with potatoes and gravy.

“More than nothing would have been nice,” he replied wistful.

“Let’s not dwell on the past. You’re back now, the legacy you left is intact and the Queen wants you to continue as you were before the…,” the assassin trailed off to choose her words carefully. “Incident.”

“That’s one way to put that cluster fuck.”

“It turned out for the best, didn’t it?”

“Well…,” Arden began, until he saw his sister’s raised eyebrow and thought better of it.

The office of the Maester was a small, lethargic affair atop a grand staircase to the rear of the Scourge’s headquarters deep beneath the noble district of Scara Brae. A large desk, topped with red leather stood at its centre. Book cases lined the east and westerly walls and a large wooden carving covered the northern side. It depicted a battle from time forgotten between the Inari and the then Knights of Brae. The Molyneux Rebellion was the catalyst for the Scourge’s formation, and the dissolution of the Molyneux Edict was one of the reasons Arden had infiltrated the organisation and turned it on its head.

“What did Valeena say, precisely?”

“She asked me to ensure the peace process goes ahead without incident.” Arden took another swig of his ale and rolled his eyes. “She is getting paranoid in her old age.”

“She’s not a day over fifty.”

“Good innings for Scara Brae.” It was a well-known fact that the current Queen Valeena was ancient, by the standards of the royal family. Rumour had it she was in fact one of three identical twins. Arden had seen her enough to know that she was in fact just lucky, with a dose of gall and foresight thrown in for good measure. “She seems to think the Innari’s return to the city, no matter how gradual, will bring out the old tensions.”

“Tensions her forefather caused.”

“You try marching into the throne room and blaming centuries of unrest and a civil war on our monarch.”

“Touch.” Lilith pointed at the mural and Arden craned his neck to look to where she gestured. “Did you have any luck finding Starr?”

At the centre of the carving stood a tall, fiery Innari swaddled in furs and brandishing a large, skull topped stave. Arden had met him once, when he first ventured to the woods and tried to broker peace. It had been a less than fruitful experience.

“I found him alright. He was not keen to talk. He’s concerned that if the Innari leave the woods they won’t be able to keep Skargo sated.”

“’Sated’ is a curious choice of words.” Lilith pressed a finger against her lip. She narrowed her gaze, deep in thought.

“I’m sure he mentioned cannibalism at some point during the,” Arden shrugged, “Well, during the seance.”

Lilith left many things unsaid, certain exploring his adventures further would only irritate her sensibilities. Though the Innari were a tribal species who revered the dead, they were far removed from the spirit warders of Akashima. They dwelt in silence for several minutes, draining their drinks and considering the days ahead

“Will she accept our help?”

Arden shook his head.

“Any public display of assistance will leave us up shit creek. We have to do this discretely.”

“You mean sans our sister?”

Arden chuckled.

“Ruby is otherwise distracted of late regardless, so it’s just us two, and whomsoever we can think of that will be…useful to meet our objectives.” He tapped his tankard, and when it rang empty, he set it onto his desk and leant forwards to pick up the scroll from the Queen. He read it aloud.

“Oh, must we?” Lilith moaned.

“To the Hand. We proceed as planned. The city gates will welcome the Innari. Ensure that they are met with open arms. Your faithful retainer.”

“You’ve read that out a dozen times and it doesn’t get any less condescending.”

“Retainer. That’s the interesting bit.” He pursed his lips and set the scroll back onto the table.

“Why?”

“It was the Scourge who approached Valeena to provide assistance with the city’s troubles a decade or so ago. Not once has she so much as offered us a copper piece for our troubles.”

“So, you’re her retainer, technically?”

“I think she thinks we somehow are in her debt.”

“I can see the smug look on her face even now.”

The siblings nodded and pushed themselves out of their seats. They walked around the desk and met at the eastern bookshelf. Lilith pulled a copy of a Treatise of Treaties off the shelf and a heavy series of clinking set off a contraption hidden in the wall behind the thick oaken planks.

“So, we’re agreed?”

Arden considered his sister’s proposition carefully. He had concerns dragging her into his world would lead to complications. Not, he hastened to think, the sort that would lead her into trouble. They were the sorts of considerations that lead him to believe it would be her running the show.

“Yes. We’ll do as ‘commanded’, but the ultimate objectives of the Scourge remain priority.”

Lilith nodded as the central bookshelf opened. The stone lined corridor beyond was brightly lit by ensorcelled glass spheres set into the walls every twenty feet. It leads through the bedrock of the city to the docks, where it ascended and emerged out into one of the harbours reserved for the fleet of the Knights of Brae. From there, they could take one of the schooners north to the forests and try their hand at diplomacy.

“It’s funny, isn’t it? How we finally find our freedom, a sense of self, and we spend it undoing the mistakes of our youthful selves.” The assassin ventured into the corridor first, the dancing lights bringing her obi to life, little flowers dancing in the pyres.

“If I remember correctly, Lilith dear,” Arden smirked and paused for dramatic effect. “It was your insistence long ago that people should have the right to use magic on this fair isle.”

She frowned, careful not to let the swordsman see her displeasure. She would hold that comment against him for months to come.

“Well,” she said softly, turning a corner and beginning the first of many climbs to the surface. “Freedom is what I’ve been all about.”

That said, they continued on in silence, alcohol warm in their bellies and muscles burning with the growing fatigue of working too hard and too long.

The corridor delved deep into the crumbling underbelly of Scara Brae. Ten feet wide and fifteen tall, it had been built in the old warrens of the Innari shortly after their exile from the five duchies. The Scourge had discovered them and turned them to their advantage, as they started by the docklands and travelled under the capital deep into the centre of the island and emerged near Valeena Lake.

“It always amazes me nobody else has stumbled across them.” Lilith ran a finger along the roughshod, brittle red brick and took a deep breath. The air was dry and smelt like ash.

“The Knights of Brae know where some of the entrances are in the city, but we go to great lengths to make sure anyone who finds their way in here receives an induction into a new occupation.” Arden smirked. Before he had infiltrated the Scourge, they would simply kill wanders and leave their bodies to rot in the catacombs. Now they were subverted, and found a new life in the service of their Queen.

“Do you have a witty name for them?”

“Some of the lesser enlightened runners call them troglodytes.”

Lilith sniggered.

“Which only makes them some of the hardest working and determined of our number.”

“You pay them too much.”

“Valeena’s insistence. She doesn’t want her ‘secret police’ to run on fear and fear alone.”

They continued down a slope and emerged in a small ante chamber filled only with a rectangle of deep, abyssal water. A canal ran into the northern wall and disappeared beneath a damp and rotten sluice-gate. Lilith inspected the heavy chain hanging from the eaves and guessed they were set to continue by water.

“She’s such a charitable old goat.” The assassin folded her arms across her chest and watched her brother work the chain and open the gate. Beyond, the canal was less than inviting, but the tail end of the chain pulled a small row boat into view and set it adrift in the pool.

“Just get in, we have all night to debate the finer points of the royal household.” Arden pointed at the point and held it steady so that Lilith could climb in without getting wet. “Or at least do it to her face.” He hopped in after her and whistled.

“Oh, I intend to.” She smirked again, humour covering the fact that she was nervous about the days ahead.

Another chain, submerged until the cog works caused it to tighten and make the boat lurch dragged them into the shadows. The torchlight faded, casting them in darkness until Lilith drew a kanji in the air and illuminated them both in purple twilight. The brickwork of the tunnels was absent in the canal, and the smooth, damp rock showed signs of the many layers of construction that had been buried over the many reinventions of their home. Pallid mosaics and thick columns dotted the dense black peat that threatened to cave in and smother them at a moment’s notice. Here, as though mocking them, was the history of the island they were about to right – many wrongs buried that would soon be set free.

They travelled in silence through the underbelly of the city, silently reading the meaning hidden in the tapestries and mosaics. Lilith saw fragments of their own past emblazoned on the wall, fleeting glimpses of former splendour reminding her that even they would one day be forgotten. Statues crumbled, pictures fades, and memories died with those who recalled them. A chill began to set in, so she drew another symbol in the air and conjured a summer lull about the boat to fight it off.

“Arden…”

The swordsman looked at his sister, slowly turning his head as he was pulled out of his daydream. He smiled weakly.

“Are we okay?”

“I…” His smile faded. “Why do you ask?”

For the last decade, the duo, once closer as siblings than any other member of the troupe had been pulled apart time and time again. They travelled side by side to Akashima at the end of the Corpse War to help to rebuild their ancestral home and reconnect with their past. When the Forgotten Oblivion returned, they had left Akashima changed. No matter how hard they tried since, the former ties that bound them together almost unshakably were severed.

“I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.”

“Let’s not let this drive us apart again.”

Arden recognised that he had been difficult recently, but seeing the look on Lilith’s face brought it home. He’d spent so long away from his family, he had put the responsibilities of his business, of his work, before sister and brother. He held out a hand and Lilith took it. They shared a warm moment until the tunnel began to grow lighter, the purple haze of Lilith’s kanji vanishing as a door opened and daylight flooded in. They covered their eyes, blinded by the return to the surface and reached instinctively for their blades as the boat emerged into a small marina that soon became familiar.

“Get those crates on deck cunt!” Someone roared.

Lilith raised an eyebrow, and when her eyes adjusted she took in the new, nautical horizon. The canal came out at the southern end of Scara Brae’s docks, alongside a tall wooden jetty swarming with deck hands, captains, and cutthroats. Here, over all the five duchies of the island, your past was left by the wayside and the only thing that mattered was mooring and launching on time.

“Charming,” she quipped.

A tall, beared man in red doublet and a pathetically overstated hat waved his arms up and down at his crew. Arden pointed at him and smiled.
“That’s Knight Provost Jeremiah.”

“They’ve dropped the swan armour, manners, and style I see?”

When she last visited the docks, the Knights of Brae were solemn, armoured guards, eternally watchful of the eastern waters and ready to defend the island against enemies of the royal household. Now, it seemed, times had called upon them to change.

“Oh, the garrison still look ridiculous, but the hierarchy’s been set to filling in the gaps left by the uprising.” Arden scooped up the mooring rope and tossed it expertly over the slimy post atop a rickety set of steps. He pulled the boat close and helped his sister return to land.

“I didn’t think,” she stopped, nearly slipping into the sea in her delicate mahogany geta, “jeesh. I didn’t think it’d affected the capital?” She glanced over her shoulder to see if Arden needed the favour returned, but he was already stood upright behind her, torso glistening with sweat in the late afternoon soon.

“I’ve not been entirely truthful with you…”

Lilith rolled her eyes and climbed the stairs, swatting aside sailors as she ventured out onto the jetty and made a beeline for the captain.

“I should have come home sooner,” she shouted over the seaside shanties and arguments. She stepped out in front of the captain and bowed politely. “You, it seems, didn’t listen to a word I said last we met.” She raised an eyebrow at her old friend and folded her arms across her chest.

Jeremiah dropped his jaw for a moment, his scarred brow furrowed in recollection. When he remembered and put aside the duties of the day he beamed a wizened smile and embraced her.

“Lieutenant Kazumi, you haven’t aged a bloody day!”

“And you, captain, look half-dead.” The assassin shed her façade and patted him on the back. When they stepped away from one another and bowed again, Arden appeared to form a triangle with a bemused expression on his face.

“I didn’t now you were a sailor, sister?”

Lilith chuckled.

“I’ve not been entirely truthful with you…”

Jeremiah guffawed with a belly full of brine. When he caught his breath, he pointed to the jetty’s end and the sight of the Knights of Brae flagship refocused their attentions on the task at hand. The Liliana beckoned, it’s pristine white sails and winged hull a reminder that it was not just the lives of old friends that needed saving, but those of the island as well.

“What do you mean, you haven’t been truthful with me?” Arden wove in and out of the dockland workers, nimbly keeping up with Lilith and Jeremiah as they climbed the boarding ramp and padded onto the deck.

Lilith ignored him at first, choosing instead to take interest in the crates piled high along the portside guide rail. They were a strange mix of wood and metal, each one brandished with the crest of whatever merchant house or shipping company had chartered the vessel. It was unusual to see so many, but the assassin put it down to the collaboration, unusual for the nobles, that had brought their expedition together.

“Do you two need a moment?” Jeremiah rested his hands on his hips.

“No, there is no need. What I have to say needs to be said to you both.” She turned and gestured to the end of the ship where the wheel and captain’s quarter were housed. “I didn’t realise that my brother had woven an equally tangled web as I.” She smirked. “We need to set the record straight about what happened on that tower a decade ago.”

Arden relived the final push of the Scara Brae guard to the top of Molineux’s Tower, when the sorcerer had returned and tried to level the city for his exile. Only the Knights of Brae and the captains of the Ixian knights banding together had averted disaster. The choice he made atop the tower had scarred the swordsman, and the image of a steel winged helmet with a white halo flashed before his eyes as a reminder of his mistake.

“Wait…you were there?” Arden raised an eyebrow and pointed to the captain.

“Hell, yes boy, I was that plucky sergeant you made go first into the ante chamber.” Jeremiah pulled up his sleeve to reveal a tattoo, covering the scars he had suffered when the flames had nearly engulfed them all.

“Thayne’s be damned. It can’t be Killian?” The swordsman could hardly believe it.

“The very same. When your sister approached me about the letter from Her Majesty I had a funny turn when she mentioned you by name. I thought you’d long fled the city.”

“I did,” Arden pouted. “Home is a hard place to abandon.”

“And I’m glad you didn’t. You did good, Arden. Now, let’s see if the Scourge a,” he cleared his throat. “Sorry, let’s see if The Hand and the Knights of Brae can work together once more.” He began to walk to his cabin door, barking final orders to ready for departure at anyone who was foolish enough to get in earshot.

“I’m not here because of The Hand, Killian.” Arden followed, feet dragging with reluctance towards the door. The captain opened it and disappeared inside, his trademark laughs echoing in the twilight. The swordsman stepped aside to let Lilith enter first then followed, shortening the crimson scarf about his neck to a practical shape with a tug at the magic that tied him to the vestments of his office.

“Why are you here, then?”

The captain’s quarters were small but lavishly decorated with swan motifs and heavyset bookcases on every inch of wall where there wasn’t a porthole. Heavy, dusty tomes on every topic relating to Scara Brae and warfare greeted them, telling tall tales of the ship’s captain’s exploits. Arden barely remembered Killian’s face, but there was no mistaking his charisma and willingness to dive in headfirst for a cause he believed in. He longed for that youth, despite the man’s grey hair and beard, he was only in his late forties in body. He sat in a wingback chair and poked a finger at the two stools opposite.

“I’m here because of our role in the first rebellion.” He sat, the weight lifting of his shoulders and ankles as for the first time in centuries, he faced his final demons. “Sometimes you have to put wrongs right.”

“You’ve gone all noble on me, Arden. I don’t like it. Tell me something more grandiose and scary.” Jeremiah frowned.

“The dog’s lost his bark, I’m afraid.” Lilith flicked her geta from her bare feet and crossed one leg over the other.

“Well…” Killian chewed his fingernails pensively for a moment. “I can certainly empathise.”

“War and time has changed this island.” Lilith, forgetting the pressing questions about Arden for a moment, reflected on their combined experience. “How have you faired since the Cult’s insurrection?”

Killian shook his head.

“Not too well, I’m afraid. You managed to purge our ranks of Cassandra’s maniacs, but it took years before we could muster our full strength. The fleet had to retreat to our own shores because we were spread to thin, and our diplomatic relations have suffered since.” The captain pointed at the map unfurled on the table before him. Several pins and ominous daggers were pinned into at relevant points. Arden and Lilith pulled their stools closer to investigate.

“What are we looking at?” The swordsman focussed on the dagger piercing the Brokenthorn woods.

“These mark sightings of Innari or conflicts in the last week alone. Whoever the Queen sent on the first contact mission was either an incompetent twat, or he’s done a fine job of returning the goblins to the populous.” He snorted. “We can’t manage all of it on our own, which is why Her Majesty turned to the one group of misfits that are renowned for sifting through horse shit to find gold.”

Lilith giggled.

“Well, I guess that’s about the sum of what we do.” She pointed to the pin on the northern walls on the capital. “Is this where the siege is concentrated?”

“Yes.” Slowly but surely, Killian pushed himself out of his seat and began to pour three shots of what could only be rum into pottery goblets. The smell alone woke the trio up long before they took it with thanks and drained it eagerly. When the burning sensation stopped, the captain continued. “They’ve not attacked the walls in two nights, but the campfires light the plains and the drums…those fucking drums, are sending my men to their graves.”

“How did I not notice this?” Arden folded his arms gruffly across his chest.

“You’ve been hiding away in your little bolthole for a month now. I have long been involved in Killian’s efforts to broker peace, so I had to do a little covert operation myself to get you to come out into the light of day again.”

“I’ve been busy…” he replied defensively.

“And you’ll be busier yet, we set sail as soon as the rest of the cargo is below deck, and I can knock some sense into the boatswain.”

“You could have just told me straight. I thought you and Ruby were off on a sabbatical ‘finding yourself’.” Arden looked at his sister searchingly, a glint telling he was experiencing a moment of emotion masqueraded behind his stubborn demeanour.

Lilith and Ruby had ventured into the Brokenthorn forest with Philomel, a plucky faun with the resources of a Queen to put Valeena’s scheme into motion a fortnight prior. When it had succeeded, she returned to Killian to rebuild burnt bridges and start to right her own wrongs.

“Akashima owes a great debt to the Knights of Brae for protecting it’s borders during the civil war in Corone. As envoy to Scara Brae I found Killian to be most accommodating to repaying the favour.” She had not made the connection between Captain Jeremiah and the sergeant of yesteryear until she had mentioned Arden in passing during a war council.

“You let me drone on for hours about the virtues of aiding the Queen last night.”

“Hours and hours…,” the assassin chuckled.

“Jeesh, more rum it is.” Killian shook his head as the siblings continued to bicker and poured them all a second lubricating measure. They all sipped it this time, not too eager to remove a layer of their throat quit so readily.

“Who is in charge now?”

“Of the Knights?” Killian furrowed his brow, struggling to remember through a rush of blood to the head. “Knight Commander Sesthal, and four Knight Guarda beneath her form the command. Then you’ve got six Knight Provost, including yours truly, serving as commanding officers in each of the five duchies and one to command the navy.”

“So, you’re a Knight-Admiral?”

“Whatever makes it easier to understand. Why is that important?”

“Arden’s one for the detail.” Lilith raised her glass in her brother’s direction. “It’s why I insisted he be part of our adventure.”

“If it’s logistics you’re after, you’d be better off with Leopold.” He snorted. “He likes number crunching more than life.”

“Oh, you thought we wanted you for your brains Hound?” Killian shook his head. “Not remotely. We want you with us because there is, in the history of this island’s heroes and villains no better man to settle a fight than The Silent Swordsman.”

“Who, I regret to inform you, is not damned silent enough sometimes.”

Arden stuck out of his tongue to the both and finished his drink. He set the goblet down on the edge of the desk and stood. He still had questions, but deep down, he had to admire Lilith for pulling the wool over his eyes and fending for herself. She had come a long way since they’d fought Komodo together and freed Akashima from it’s tyrannical past. He, on the other hand, had changed not one bit.

“So, I think I’m about all caught up.” He ran his tongue along his bottom lip and leant on the desk, both knuckles buckling down on the hard-stained oak. “I guess my plan is out the window if I’m just the hired muscle, so what’s our aim?” He started intently at Jeremiah with his one good eye, the other glassy orb lifeless and menacing.

“Good question.” Jeremiah seemed to relax now that the tension between his allies started to fade. Perhaps it was the rum talking, but his tone softened, and he sat back in his chair and relaxed. “What do you know about the Innari?”

It had been many decades since the swordsman had last encountered a ‘goblin’. He furrowed his brow as he tried to remember what he now about them. About their culture, their history, and their drive.

“They used to be more civilised, some of the most powerful sorcerers to exist since the War of the Tap.” He chuckled. “Like Forgotten Ones with a penchant for crevettes and over indulgent banquets.”

“In terms of their place in Scara Braen society, they were on par with the royal household and revered. Kind, generous, and always willing to pass on their knowledge to the other races, the island prospered with their help in what Lilith describes overly fondly as ‘The Age of the Stage’.” Killian glanced at the assassin, hinting for her to continue.

“If you’d lived through it, Killian, you’d call it such. The theatre troupes then numbered nearly a hundred, and the city was never without song and spectacle. Molyneux was their defacto leader, as we all know, and he founded a university at the heart of the city in the shadows of the palace.”

Killian nodded in agreement. The University still stood, though it was now home to the diplomatic embassies and merchant houses that kept Scara Brae wealthy and far removed from the troubles of the other kingdoms.

“When Valeena’s ancestor became paranoid that open use of magic in the city was a sign of trouble, she outlawed its public use and confined it to the halls of the university.” Lilith counted on the fingers of her left hand and stopped at four. “Four successive monarchs were assassinated in the three years following the Molyneux Edict. Civil war tore the city apart and the Innari chose to leave entirely and take their magic and their wealth with them.”

“That about sums up the case notes. What do you know about them now, though?” He knew that Lilith had ventured north on a skirmish of her own, so the captain’s attentions remained fixed on the swordsman. Arden shrugged. “Go on. Somebody down in that shit hole of yours must have brought you word?”

Arden pouted.

“Well…they’re divided. Two tribes, one feral, one peaceful, locked in an eternal theocratic struggle over wherever or not they should kill everything, themselves included or worship ‘Skarggo’ in a pacifistic cult.”

Killian nodded. “There we have the gist of our plan.”

Arden put the pieces together and suddenly realised where he, and his infamous sword arm fit it into the grand scheme. He mouthed a silent curse at Valeena for dragging him into it.

“You want me to start a war?”

“Oh, that ship’s already sailed boy.” Killian gripped onto the arms of his chair as the ship began to lurch prophetically. A ruckus from outside indicated the flagship was ready and was pulling away in the first gusts of wind caught in it’s unfurling sails.

“You’re terrible at that anyway,” Lilith chuckled. “We want you to end it.”

Arden blinked.

“I’m sorry?”

“You bloody heard! The leader of the Skein, the shamanistic tribes wants to take up Valeena’s offer of peace and return to the city as citizens. The little shit flingers that go by Skars want to make sure that doesn’t happen and it’s they who are flying rabidly at our walls in protest.”

“Oh. Okay, now I understand.” He pictured his winged form rampaging through hordes of snivelling, relentless warriors.

“Skarrgo is dead.” Lilith produced a parchment and handed it to her brother. “This is a signed accord from Starr Redmaw, Great Shaman of the Innari, who we’re going to escort from the forest whilst you and the Knights of Brae tear a great hole through the Skar.”

“Smashing.” Arden took it with a nod. “So instead of a happy ending you’ve got me caught up in genocide.”

“That’s…one way to put it. But there’s more to it. Skarrgo was tied to the Innar, a natural force that gave the Innari their insight as much as it did their fervour. He grew mad, beyond the ability of Starr to calm and the shaman made a choice, as he did centuries ago to put the fate of his people first no matter the cost.” The weight of the captains’ words pressed on Arden’s conscience.

“Centuries ago?” He raised an eyebrow, then found his line of sight dropping to the wax seal on the scroll. He bit his lip. “Starr…”

“…Starr Redmaw was once named Molyneux.” Lilith handed the revelation to her brother on a plate and felt the knot in her stomach untangle. “We don’t know how they became slaves to that mad god, but now they are free the Skein want to return…to the University halls and help restore the city –“

“the whole island, even,” Killian interrupted.

“Yes. The whole island,” Lilith rolled her eyes.

“This day just keeps getting better and better.” The swordsman set the scroll on the edge of the desk and slowly unsheathed his sword from it’s bloodied scabbard. The chain that kept by his side rattled, swinging back and forth in time with the cresting waves as the Liliana ventured out into open waters.

“That’s the last bit of exposition I promise.” Killian sounded sincere, but Arden wasn't sure if it was genuine, or induced by the pouring of a third round of rum.

Arden smiled and set the tip of Kerria onto the floor. He turned the blade slowly between forefinger and thumb, expertly keeping it vertical despite it’s weight. He thought about their plan for a long, awkward moment then looked to each of them in turn. The drinks were handed out and when each raised their glass in anticipation, the swordsman spoke.

“Alright. You have my blade. How many of yours do I get?” Fire flickered in his cornea as the dragon within awoke from it’s long, bitter slumber of remorse.

“All of them.” Killian down his drink and corked the rum. Despite his sea legs, there was too much still to do to spend the day half cut and singing.

“Every Knight?” Arden raised an eyebrow, a smirk on his face as much from his growing sense of inebriation as the play on words.

“Don’t be absurd! There’s a detachment on board and a hundred good men waiting for us on the coast north of the forest. City guard mostly, half with bows, half with sword and shield.”

“The Queen was very sincere when she said we had the full strength of the city at our disposal.” Lilith nodded, though she left out the part about having to fund and barter for such services.

“As long as she pays us this time I’ve no complaints. Have they seen a real battle yet?”

Killian looked bashful.

“I’m afraid to say the city guard are hit and miss. Most are newly drafted, but have the full training available to them – I oversaw some of the drills myself. The Knights I hand picked from the Raiaera contingent. They’re used to fighting things beyond petty crooks and brigands, so they’ll not falter at the sight of a catapult flinging shit at them.”

“Charming!” Lilith stood, but thought better of it when her knees gave way. She managed to return to her seat without embarrassing herself too much. “Ugh. Sea sick,” she grumbled.

“That’s good enough. I don’t suppose you’ve scouted for numbers?” Arden knew enough about the Innari to know they what they lacked in skill they more than made up in idiocy and crowds.

“We’ve had conflicting reports over the last two days. There are nearly a thousand camped outside the city limits, and we’ve been unable to get an accurate number for the villages in the forest itself. I’d wager we’re in for a fight and a half. Outnumbered is not even close.”

“Good.”

“Good?” Killian raised an eyebrow.

“An over confident enemy is prone to making mistakes, and without their shamans they’ll have to rely on stabbing us with rusty daggers and raking eyeballs with infected nails.”

“You make that sound as if it’s preferable to fireballs?” The captain sighed. “You’re right, though. Wise as ever. I’ll need to see to the ship and crew now I’m afraid. I’ll leave you two to decide on a plan of action,” he jabbed a finger at the map. “We’ll land by the golden pin, but we can attack from any angle and relocate our forces if you command it.” With a grunt, Killian rose and shuffled out from behind the desk. He got to the door and stopped, shaking hand clutching the polished oak doorframe to steady himself.

“Killian?” Lilith sounded concerned, but the captain stood up straight and ventured out into the sunlight and salty air before she could stop him.

“He’s getting old, bless him.” Arden sheathed his blade and circled the map with an inquisitive expression.

“I’m worried about him.”

“He’s half drunk, a sea captain, and a veteran of the only war to grace this little heaven on earth. We’ve got more important things to worry about, like not dying and having a city to go home to come sunset.” He pointed at the landing point, but Lilith’s attention remained fixed on the open doorway. She pursed her lips, losing count of the times the captain had lost his balance or train of thought in recent days and worrying that his exposition was not quite finished.

After a while, the assassin turned back to the desk and approached slowly. Arden was deep in concentration, staring at the map and the battle lines drawn out by the captain. He leant forwards to take in the landscape, knuckles still balled on the desk and back straightened. She walked around the edges of the room clockwise, careful not to distract him whilst he decided on how to proceed. She took in the spines of the books on display and stopped when one caught her eye to slip it from the shelf.

“I saw it too.”

She turned about, startled, and nearly dropped the text.

“Don’t do that!” she cried.

“Sorry. I appreciate the concern, but you know I already decided what to do the moment I walked in here.” He pulled away from the desk and clicked his spine.

“You have?” Lilith raised an eyebrow.

“The captain has the right idea.” Pointing at the beachhead where they were set to land, the swordsman traced a line to the salt flats north where the forest spread east to meet the sea. A thin tendril of woodland, it cut off the mesa at the foot of the northern mountains and connected the Brokenthorn to the craggy outcrops once famous for its pirates.

“Forgive me for saying, but that doesn’t look like a good place to engage forest dwelling madmen.” She opened the book as she walked towards the desk and set it down on a page depicting a dusty, faded vision of Scara Brae of old. “What about here?” She tapped the page west of the beach where the meadowlands turned into buttercup mottled flatlands.

Arden smiled.

“You’ve been reading your Treaties of Battle.” He smiled appreciatively. “The rocks would provide a good vantage point for the archers, but I see your point.”

“From here, we can march south and rear attack the siege forces, cutting off their escape. If they do manage to push through our meagre battle line they’ll have a nasty surprise waiting for them.”

“A field of corpses is an effective deterrent.” Arden considered it, but couldn’t see how a hundred and fifty men, even lead by the siblings could hope to route an army. “We’ll have to send word to the guards on the wall to mount an offensive from the capital.” He frowned. “But that’s a problem for another day.” He compared both maps for a while whilst Lilith retrieved her geta and tied back her hair into a loose bun.

“I suppose you’ve thought about how we’re going to draw them out into the open?”

“A fire should do the trick,” the swordsman said non-chalant.

Lilith stopped mid-task with a bemused expression. She shrugged, dropped her hands to her side and sat back in her chair.

“Valeena’s going to regret saying ‘full disposal’ to you, isn’t she.”

“Not the forest, silly!”

“Oh.”

“I’m going to set fire to the ship.”

“Oh.” She immediately saw the appeal but remembered what ship they were on. “Arden…”

The swordsman turned and folded his arms across his chest. His expression said all it needed to.

“Okay. We set fire to the flagship of the Scara Braen Royal Guard…” She bit her lip, wondering why she always agreed with his schemes. “You’ll have to convince Killian though, I’m not touching that conversation with a barge pole.”

“We won’t need to.”

“We won’t ne-“ Lilith made herself look imposing, a look Arden new all too well.

“If you’d read the book properly you’d have learnt about the Battle of the Teeth.” He raised a hand to stay her objections. Her sheepish grin confirmed his suspicions. “You can’t just loo at the pictures Lilith.”

“I did read it. Months ago.” She pouted again. “I’ve had a lot on my mind so just tell me, gloat, and let’s go and see where we are shall we?” Brushing aside the sleight the assassin craned her head to suggest she was all ears.

“Killian drew out the pirate fleet by setting fire to some of the galleons moored off the coast not far from where the forest meets the sea. They came out, thinking the fleet was easy prey only to find the remaining ships were hidden behind the smoke plumes.”

Lilith considered the idea.

“The ship would have to be very close to the rocky outcrops here,” she pointed at the map and to one of the prospective landing points. “Won’t it look odd, one ship set ablaze?”

“That’s where you come in.”

“I knew you were going to say that…” The assassin sighed.

“Together we can create illusions, ships attacking ours and the Skar clan will flock to it like a duck to water.”

“You need to work on your metaphors.” She smirked. “I can’t fault the idea, though. We can position ourselves on the outcrops and in the caves at the foot of the cliffs between them and the northernmost part of the beach here.” She moved her finger to the stretch of coast called Spider’s Cove, trying to ignore the fact that it was marked with an inky sketch of an inexcusably large arachnid.

“Starr is going to meet us with as many Skein as he can muster to the cause. I will have to send word if that’s agreed?” He raised an eyebrow and waited for her consent.

Lilith nodded slowly.

“I’m not sure I can think of a better plan, though I’m a little confused. How do we know it’ll draw out all the Skar?”

“Starr told me once that the Innari have a hive mind, their thoughts are connected and in times of war they act like ants. A singular purpose can drive the whole nest to ruin.”

“Oh good. Compare something I loathe to something I fear.”

“You…are afraid of ants?”

“Well.” Lilith thought about it. “The ants in Akashima are a little bigger than your run of the mill red ants.” In Akashima, the ants were a minor oni, vicious and full of poison that could kill a man in seconds. “It doesn’t matter.”

Arden consigned the fact to memory for future use. He folded his arms across his chest and rocked on his heels, running the battle plan through his mind a final time. He tried to find a flaw but struggled to improve their odds with the resources they had. He looked around the captain’s quarters and resigned himself to not seeing comfort for quite some time.

“Okay. Let’s see what we can do to help on deck.” He gestured to the door and followed Lilith as she skulked out into daylight.

The Liliana was not the largest vessel in the Scara Braen fleet. Two hundred feet from stern to keel, it was quick, low on the water, and sailed by forty men who were amongst the best that came through the island’s docklands. None were part of the Knights of Brae, but each had sworn fealty to the ship’s captain first, and Queen Valeena second. If Killian had chosen them personally, Arden had no doubt in his mind that there was no finer crew to be had. The captain’s quarter opened out onto a lower deck interrupted by three masts and surrounded by a raised balcony along starboard and prow from which the archers could fire and swordsman swarm boarders.

“It’s a fine ship.”

“Valeena commissioned it and named it after her mother.” Arden pointed to the tallest of the three masts. “There’s a plaque in the crow’s nest, some trite epitaph about raising those around you up higher than yourself.”

“She’s rather fond of melodrama, Her Highness.” Lilith covered her eyes to shield them from the glaring sun and shrugged. “Are you sure about burning it?” She pictured Valeena’s fury and had second doubts. The troupe had upset the royal household more than enough times to know how difficult life could be afterwards.

“Consider it an opportunity to drive our point home. If she wants things done no matter the cost, she has to be willing to sacrifice things as much as she expects her citizens to.” He gestured at the ship in general. “What better way to highlight the fact she’s not paid us a single gold and yet here we are, rushing headlong into civil war.”

“I didn’t know you could be so pragmatic.” She ventured further out onto the deck and rested a palm against a mast. “I can’t deny seeing her face when we return to the capital would be…amusing.”

“If she lets us, that is.”

“She won’t forget she has no choice in the matter, but that’s not say she won’t make life difficult.”

“You’d defy her so openly?” The assassin circled the mast, eyes skyward at the vigorous rigging that kept the ship speeding over open water at impressive speed.

“I’m a Maester. You’re a diplomatic envoy. It’d be more trouble than it’s worth to try and get rid of us.” Cocsure, the swordsman thought about his cloak and extended it down to the knees. He wrapped it around him and pointed to the keel.

To their east, the island protruded from the horizon and above it all the Comb Mountains, defying the landscape with it’s cloud covered range. By Arden’s measure they were already ten leagues away from the docklands and halfway to their objective. He too a deep breath of sea air and marched toward the steps leading up to the wheel.

Killian stood proud behind it, hands firmly on the wood steering his pride and joy over bucking waters. He nodded to the pair as they appeared in view and gestured for them to stand by him.

“Have you two stopped taking cheap shots at one another?” He beamed.

“We’ve…settled our differences, yes.” Lilith sat on a crate of rope bundles and crossed her legs. She leant back and took in the view. “Reunions are hard when you’ve got so much to talk about.”

“You two are a strange couple.”

“We are not a couple,” the assassin spat. “That there is my elder brother.”

Killian looked at them back and forth, struggling to see the resemblance.

“Sorry. You look like you’ve been married for decades.”

“To our art, maybe.” Arden rolled his eyes. “What do you know about the troupe exactly?” It was their turn to gauge Killian’s worth, and perhaps offer some insight into why they of all the heroes and villains in the world had been called in defence of Scara Brae.

“Members of the troupe called Restless Fugitive are proclaimed to be masters of their art.” The captain made his voice full of pomp, as though quoting from a royal proclamation. “Ageless and timeless, they recount the history of the world with grace and splendour.”

“Preferably without quoting from a flyer.” She glared.

“You’re old.” Killian smirked. “You’ve seen the rise and fall of Molyneux and lived through the Corpse and Civil wars. Heaven’s know how, but if I’ve learned anything about life in my short years it’s to not ask too many questions.”

“Five hundred and fifty years, give or take,” Lilith offered.

“I didn’t ask, but…” Kilian looked out to sea.

“We are able to harness the Tap. We are bound to one another in a way even we don’t truly understand. We have always fought for change and prosperity, and now we are free of the Forgotten One who made us this way our hearts remain on the same task.”

The captain looked back and stared intently at the swordsman. He turned the wheel a full rotation and began to steer the ship in a wide arc towards the shore. Gulls circled overhead, a sign that their brief jaunt onto open waters would soon come to an end.
“Forgotten One?” He had heard the name only in passing but found himself intrigued.

“Old evil, now dead. He made us puppets and through us controlled the fates of millions. We broke free, just like you did of your fate in the tower.”

“Hey, now, I was never in danger there.”

“We all were. If we were a second late with the helmet the city wouldn’t be standing. Moments like that must change you. Don’t you wonder about it?” Arden tried to sound sincere but only made himself more condescending.

“No. Never.” Killian sighed. “That was what, thirty years ago? I’ve done, and seen so much since one brush with death blurs into the next.” He grits his teeth. “Living a long life doesn’t make you any more or any less of a man than I.”

“That’s not what he’s suggesting, Killian.” Lilith struggled to find the right words, but remembered something her absent sister said to her in times of trouble. “We might be immortal, but it’s only through the songs people sing and stories they tell of our lives that make us truly ageless.”

“Will you tell my story, if I did?”

Arden chuckled.

“Captain Jeremiah, scourge of the Innari will be our best play yet!” He spread his arms in dramatic style.

“Don’t be cute, we’ll come up with something far more highbrow if you die here today.” Lilith, sincerely worried about the captain’s mood changed the subject. “We wanted to run through our plan before we land. We’ll need to send a raven to Starr too. He won't like having to get involved.”

Killian nodded and clapped his hands. The attentive, silent knight behind him stood to attention and approached. Green eyes glimmered from behind the veil of his steel, shining helmet.

“Fetch a raven, Jakor, and tell your men we make landfall in two turns.”

Arden mouthed ‘what’s a turn’ to Lilith, and she returned a silent gesture of ‘an hour’ before Killian turned back to them.

“Go on, then. What does the Hound wish for his pack?”

“Less word play, for one.” Arden rolled his eyes. “Fire ship, pincer movement, once defeated we travel south to rear charge the siege encampment.”

Killian gave the plan some thought as he locked the wheel of the ship in place with a reinforced bar. The crew of the Liliana came to life as word spread that they’d soon land, and Lilith watched them scuttle around like rats with a bemused expression. Arden folded his arms across his chest expectantly. He had seen Killian’s concerned behaviour before and awaited profanity.

“You see,” he began, setting the bolt across to secure the bar against the wheel’s supports. “I’m fairly sure I told you to never burn down on of my ships again.” He glared.

“This isn’t your ship, though.”

“Technicalities won’t get you out of the fact you want to use the Queen’s epitaph vessel as a decoy.” He prodded an accusing finger at the swordsman. “You need to find another way.”

“Then bring us another ship,” Lilith interjected. She turned back to the duo and slipped from the crate. Upright, she was an imposing visage of beauty and sincerity. “The Innari aren’t going to welcome us with open arms if they see a fully armed and manned war ship moored of the coast of their territory.”

“They might.” Killian rummaged in his pockets for his pipe. “Not everything has to be quite so dramatic.”

“How do you figure?” Arden watched the captain empty and refill his pipe and set it alight with a flick of his forefinger and thumb. The faint smell of parlour magic briefly filled the air.

“Well,” he took a deep drag and exhaled some rings. “What’s the one thing the Innari hate more than everything else?”

The siblings looked to one another for inspiration but could only muster a mutual shrug.

“Themselves.” The captain said flatly.

“Oh.” Arden raised an eyebrow. “Oh I don’t like where this is going.”

“Starr has always been reluctant to get involved in his own affairs. Some shite about being a scholar, not a warrior. But if he wants peace amongst his people he’s going to have to prove his worth.” Killian continued to smoke as he waled to the stairs and descended them with gusto. The duo followed close behind.

“Killian…” Lilith murmured.

Lost in a train of thought he barked orders at any sailor foolish enough to not look busy and those he commanded disappeared below deck. He stopped at the edge of the cargo hole and watched the hatches raise and slam sideways. A dark abyss greeted them.

“Killian,” she repeated, a little louder as her concern raised.

“Watch.” He pointed the end of his pipe into the shadows.

Lilith and Arden edged closer, wary of the growing ruckus from below. Shouts and cries in a medley of familiar languages broke away to the ravaging cries of something not human. The assassin’s gut instincts told her that the thing being raised from below deck on a pulley was the very thing they were trying to save.

“How the hell do you have Skein onboard?” Arden roared when he realised the shapes cowering in the iron cage were members of Starr’s clan.

“The Knight-Commanders agreed that we should have a contingency plan.”

“These are our friends!”

“No, Arden. Look closer.” Killian waved at the oarsmen and the cage swung sideways and dropped with a thud onto the deck.

Inside, four creatures on their haunches scrabbled wildly at the bars. Each looked like an Innari, but as Arden looked closer he began to see signs that something was different. Though the ears were pierced with bronze rings and bones, and their clothes were adorned with the fetishes of a shaman, their eyes told another story. Red. Crazed. Glistening with hatred for all things.

“They’re…Skar?”

“Starr warned us that the death of Skarrgo would cause a schism in the Innari. Some would return to sanity, others would lose it. These were found running with the army that besieges our walls and were foolish enough to let themselves be captured whilst trying to infiltrate the city through the catacombs.” Though Killian enjoyed getting one up on the Hand, he sounded bashful, as though his moral sensibilities were tested.

“Bait.” Lilith saw beyond the rhetoric at the practical use.

“Bait that doesn’t involve burning my livelihood,” Killian corrected.

“Why ask us for advice if you had your own ideas all along?”

“Your strategy is sound it just required a little fine-tuning. We can use our friends here as mock prisoners of war. We should draw the ire of the frontier scouts and anger them enough to come rescue their ‘friends’ and kill their captors.” Killian banged on the cage to quieten the rabble, then made several gestures to have the cage lifted closer to the port side, where the crew would then be able to lower it onto the shore.

“And if that doesn’t work?” Lilith unsheathed the Spider and twirled it between the fingers of her right hand. She began to work a spirit-ward around it’s blade to probe the minds of the Innari for signs of hope – for signs that their souls could be stilled, and they could return to their people…or pierce their throats and send them to their ancestors.

“Then,” Killian grit his teeth. “And only then do I want to smell smoke.”

“I have a bad feeling about this.” Lilith drew kanji in quick succession with the tip of her weapon, it’s purple aura blurring the air as the providence of her own ancestors swelled to life around her.

“I want you to set tinder barrels in the stern and around each mast, ready if things take a turn for the worst.” Arden offered a concession but couldn’t reasonably risk everything on the captain’s whim without a back-up to their back-up.

Killian ummed and ahhed.

“Alright. Make whatever preparations you have to before we land, I doubt we’ll get much reprieve before we find out how much of a shit storm we’re really in.” He didn’t wait for objections and marched off to round up the crew. They clambered down rigging and appeared from behind cannons at his call, and quickly formed a moot around him and a red headed boatswain who looked like he’d seen better days.

“He’s a strange man,” the swordsman muttered to his sister. They stood side by side, looking out at the encroaching shoreline and the slither of green atop the imposing rocks. “Trustworthy, though.”

“Who, you or Killian?” Lilith let lose her spell and waited for the magic to seep through the cage and into the Innari’s minds. She smelt lavender and incense, and a brief whiff of jasmine before the sea air stole it away again.

“Both, probably.” Arden shrugged. “I guess I was taking a heavy-handed approach.”

“You? Never. You’re the modicum of restraint.”

“That’s something that’s never been true about me.”

“Compared to Ruby’s little smouldering tantrums you’re a saint. Stop beating yourself up and let’s work on our friends here…see what their spirits can tell us about our enemy.”

Lilith reached out with her mind and touched the nearest Innari. The connection was rough, but she broke through and found a world of anger and hatred surrounding a smouldering ember of foresight. She could see that the transformation was recent, likely induced when she, her sister, and Philomel had carved out the heart of the Innari god. A pang of guilt threatened to drag her in too deep, so she bit her lip to remind herself that she was outside the soul, not within.

Arden watched, fascinated with the process and regretting his decision to walk a different path. Still, he could test the creature’s emotions by stealing strength from the oni that smothered his own heart, draining the fire from within to his fingertips and sending it out in lashing waves. Behind them, the crew got their orders and cast their votes on who should stay behind to keep the Liliana ready to depart, and whom should join the Knights of Brae in their skirmish.

“They’re not beyond saving,” Arden said with a grimace as the creature’s aggression snared his lashes and started to pull on them. The pit of his stomach churned, and his body temperature began to rose as he drew on more and more of the dragon’s power to keep himself rooted.

“It’s beyond us,” she whimpered. She cut the connection and rocked on her heels. Arden felt her leave and did the same. “Starr, perhaps, could guide them bac to his people.”

“It’s his mess, so he’d better had.”

“You know that’s not true Arden.” Lilith pouted. She considered the eyes of each of the captives then turned away. “He was only trying to do the best for his people. It was leave, or be hunted down and killed.”

“Power corrupts all.” The swordsman sighed. “Let’s hope whatever magic that imp still possesses can help.”

“Imp?” Lilith smirked. She yawned too, the swirl of emotions they had been through on their journey finally wearing her thin. “A fox, an imp a hound, and a clapped-out horse. We make quite the party.”

“Don’t let Killian hear you call him that.”

“A loyal horse, then, you can’t fault his dedicated to the city but it’s going to get him killed.” She reflected on his unease, his physical health, and the constant need to prove himself. All the signs of an ageing hero who had somehow come through the worst and best of times and survived.

“You’re beginning to sound like Duffy.”

“Piety gets to us all,” she sheathed her tanto.

“We can only do our best to keep him out of harm’s way, though I’ve seen what he’s like with that bastard axe he lugs around like it’s a toy.” He had seen him fight atop the flaming tower and again in the civil war. He was as much a legend amongst his own comrades as he had become to the citizens of Scara Brae since.

“Maybe he can teach you a thing or two about fighting like a real man.”

Arden raised an eyebrow but when he turned to retort, the assassin was already on her way to join the crew and weigh in on the decisions they’d all have to make, difficult or not before the sun set.

“She’s turning into her sister…” It was his turn to pout.

He wandered towards the unwashed rabble, their once pristine uniforms torn and muddied. Beards and tattoos peppered the crowd, telling the swordsman that they were a mix of free folk and former naval officers who had left for richer climates but flocked bac to the docks in defence of their homes. He had to admire them. The five duchies that made up Scara Brae society were always taking pot shots at one another, but when a common enemy appeared there was no greater strength of unity to be found in the world.

“So that’s settled then!” Killian clapped appreciatively. He looked around for signs of trouble, a forgotten comment slipping untimely from nervous lips. When nobody had anything else to say he looked around and caught Lilith’s eye. “Lady Kazumi?”

“No objections here.”

Arden pushed through and raised a hand.

“Maester Janelle…” Killian furrowed his brow, warning the swordsman to mind his tongue.

“I’ll need two good fast men for a little errand.”

Nobody rushed to put up their hand.

“What for?” The captain found two names immediately from the roster in his head.

“To light a signal fire from the outcrops once we’ve emerged victorious. It’ll let the city know that reinforcements are on the way and that they can muster their counter attack.”

“Away from the fight?” Killian chuckled. “You’ll get no volunteers for that, so I’ll send Bran and Durma.”

Two sailors swore very loudly, but returned to their dutiful attention when the captain clocked them. They looked like siblings. Durma’s long blonde hair couldn’t hide the fact that she too was a veteran and they were covered in scars earned only by misfiring blasting charges. Miners, and more than used to running the long tunnels between deposits.

“Thank you,” Arden tried to hide his smile. “You’ll get your chance when we retake the walls.”

She glanced at her brother and mumbled something that Arden could only assume was aimed at him. He looked to Killian and nodded.

“Good. That’s everything, then?”

Nobody said a word.

“Right.” He turned to the shore and clocked the distance. The wind had carried them quicker than expected. “Land ho! Get that rigging down to drifting speed and polish your weapons.”

The roar that erupted made Lilith flinch, and before either of them could draw their weapons the crowd dispersed, and the ship returned to it’s bustling self. Men and women climbed up and down rigging and descended into the hold to retrieve the arms chests with the zeal and excitement you only found on the dawn of conflict.

“Any more pious words Little Fox?”

“You had all that time to think of a comeback and you disappoint me.” Lilith embraced Arden and hugged tight, retreating only when she felt him tense uncomfortably. “You’re losing your touch.”

“I half wish I hadn’t found my voice again…” He stuck out his tongue.

“Well, now’s the time for action, so is there anything else you want to tell me before we get to it?”

“Oh, no, I’ve learnt my lesson.” He unsheathed his sword and rested it on his right shoulder. “Do you need to pray?”

Lilith nodded.

“It will do us all good,” she paused to tighten her oni and remove the trapper hat from her head. She handed them to her brother and, now better dressed to commune with the Kami, she left his side to find a quieter spot at the front of the ship. Arden found himself alone, his thoughts growing too loud to drown out and the dragon in his heart too restless to fight back. Rage, anger, and strength took over the calculating mind of its master – his sword hummed, eager for blood.