Chapter 52 – The Birth of Death
"The injured must stay behind," Harm said.
Twelve of the clan who had assisted at Hillnot were injured, a couple seriously, but others who would affect their effectiveness in Harm's next steps. Harm walked to Nathic, whose arm was in a sling; one of his chosen leaders had received a vicious slash to his upper arm. There was no way he could fight. "Rest, Nathic, you have already done more than I could have hoped," Harm said.
Nathic looked at Harm with determination. As he moved to stand, he winced in pain, and fresh blood was still visible through the rough wrap that had been placed over it. Harm stopped him from rising as he placed his hand on his shoulder.
"No, Nathic. Enough. Rest for now," Harm said.
Nathic looked at the big man, his face crestfallen, his head dropping. Harm swelled with pride at the commitment his clan had shown.
"I'll stay with them," Pardew offered. "I'm of no use in a fight."
Harm nodded in understanding to his friend. The old man had not just become his confidant, but his colourful history could be the cornerstone to the clan's future relationships. He felt as though he was staggering through a swamp at times, the choices and decisions resting on his shoulders alone. He knew that Dafu, Luubu and the others would follow his every word, and that frightened him more than anything else.
A cold chill washed over him, like a mountain river, as he looked at the injured; five had fallen at Hillnot, and now twelve more were injured severely enough to prevent them from joining them on the assault of Sallew. Others had minor injuries, but those would not restrict them. As he moved to where Dafu and Luubu were sitting, he began to question himself. What had he done? Or, more so, what had he become? He hadn't forced the clan to come with him; they had all joined him willingly, but the feeling of dread that sat deep in his gut dragged him down.
Harm felt as though he was drowning, his thoughts running away as he questioned his position.
You're questioning your choices. You're questioning your beliefs. You're weak. The god started with malicious intent.
I'm not weak; I am human. If I didn't question my actions, then what would I be?
Better! The god answered flatly.
The chilling comment made Harm shudder. What had this god done to him or was doing to him? He still didn't know what agreement he had made with the deity. The origins formed during his lowest point of addiction, in a drunken stupor and broken mind, had wormed their way into his psyche, and now Harm knew it owned part of him.
Harm tried to ignore the god's comment as he joined Dafu and Luubu.
"What concerns you?" Dafu asked, seeing the concern on Harm's face.
Harm smiled, breaking the melancholy of his thoughts. "Nothing. We need to plan."
"I have sent out scouts to Sallew; they should be nearly there by now," Luubu said.
Harm nodded to her. "That will save time."
"You were that long getting clean," Dafu scoffed. "We thought we'd better do something."
Harm felt his cheeks flush; he stood wearing clean new clothes. The only sign of his previous appearance was his worn boots.
"You even brushed your hair," Luubu smirked.
Harm hadn't considered his clean appearance compared to the dirt-covered goblins still stained by the grime of battle.
"I had no choice," Harm stammered.
The pair of them laughed at him, as Harm felt childish.
"Can we get back on topic?" Harm said.
"Sure, what soap did you use?" Luubu asked. "It smells sweet."
They both laughed again as Harm squirmed uncomfortably; the scent of lavender soap briefly overshadowed the memory of damp, blood-soaked earth. He was just a man, not a chief leading his goblin clan to war.
"Fuck the pair of you," Harm grumbled.
The jovial attitude of his friends continued to calm his fraying nerves, the tension easing in his stomach. With resolve, he sighed deeply. "Right, as soon as we get the scout report, we will decide what to do, but we may as well start moving towards Sallew. Nathic is remaining behind, so I need to assign another leader."
"Perthu is a good choice. She is strong, one of Murgo's originally, but she commands respect," Dafu said.
Harm had never had any dealings with Perthu; he knew her, but she was always silent. "I've never heard her speak?" Harm said, surprised.
Luubu chuckled. "You think I can be fiery? You should see her when she gets going."
Harm raised an eyebrow as he opened his display and made the adjustment.
Perthu, I have assigned you as a group leader, Harm thought, as he turned to look at where she was sitting. She looked over to where Harm was and tilted her head slightly, showing no emotion. Harm didn't even pick up a thought response. He shook his head in mild confusion as he continued.
"I'm not sure how many guards will be left in Sallew. I know there were several here, but there are more than we have seen so far. Also, I saw no horses, which means that many could be mounted. If that's the case, we need to be cautious; mounted guards will run us down with ease," Harm said.
"Not if we get on the streets, they won't be able to charge us," Luubu said thoughtfully. Her understanding of combat was impressive, and Harm wondered where she had learned tactics, never discussing her combat proficiency with her.
They sat pensively as they waited. "Who was the scout?" Harm asked suddenly, remembering that he needed to authorise his thoughts.
"Oplewi," Dafu said.
Harm opened his display and selected Oplewi as he contacted him.
At last, Oplewi replied to Harm as he contacted him.
Sorry, Harm thought. What's it look like?
Main streets are blocked. There are guards on the streets at the blockade. That big estate is also surrounded.
The only estate in the town was Satil's. How many?
Must be about forty or fifty.
What? Harm didn't think that Sallew had that many guards remaining. There had to have been thirty at Hillnot.
They don't look like guards; more like normal townsfolk.
That made more sense. Can you check the outskirts? Harm asked.
Yes. It will take me some time at this time of day.
The sun was still high, and moving around the valley was risky at the best of times for a goblin.
Don't get too close, stay safe, and I'll check with you in a while.
Okay.
Harm silenced Oplewi's thoughts and informed Dafu and Luubu what he had seen.
"I think we need to cause distractions," Harm said.
"How?" Dafu asked.
"We split our troops and infiltrate from multiple sides. They would never expect anyone from the plains, and Satil is probably panicking that the dwarves are going to march on Sallew. He won't realise they aren't going to strike back."
"I still can't believe they won't support," Dafu snapped.
Although Harm agreed with him, his words betrayed his thoughts. "I understand why; it's political. I doubt that the dwarves even really needed our help after seeing just a fraction of what they have in Hillnot."
Dafu still looked angry.
"It's my fight. Not theirs." As the words left his lips, the stark realisation was unnerving. It was his fight; he was the one who sought retribution and revenge, yet he had brought the goblins with him. The fight still wasn't, and hadn't been, theirs to get involved in. Until Harm had become the clan chief, they had lived what in goblin terms was a peaceful life. There may have been clan disputes, and from what Luubu and both Dafu had alluded to, there were deaths, but overall, they just lived to survive. Harm had walked in and taken them from their lives into a position where death was a serious possibility. The images of the dead clan members outside Hillnot swamped his mind, their blank eyes staring hauntingly, and the names of those lost filled his mind.
"I'll be back soon," Harm said as he stood and walked out towards Haskins' farm. Dafu and Luubu watched him go but didn't speak; they felt the weight the man carried, even if they didn't understand. The mule still stood in the pasture, and Harm walked over to it. It threw its head as he approached; it brayed. Harm held his hand out, and the mule decided he wasn't a threat and walked over. Harm stroked the mule's mane, memories of his past life, and its peace filled his mind. If only time could be reversed, but it couldn't; he had to move forward. He had chosen a path, one that he was already buried inside him, and no other option was now available. He knew that unless he sought revenge, he would never again feel peace, which is what he sought. He needed it more than anything else and only hoped that his selfish decision wouldn't get his friends killed.
The plan was confirmed, and each of the goblin groups would separate and approach Sallew from different locations. Harm had given strict instructions that they were to attack only those who resisted. Under no circumstances was it to be a slaughter. Harm knew the power that Satil held over the town with his group of henchmen; they weren't a town guard; they were his personal guard. He also appreciated that many of the town's inhabitants were decent, upstanding members, just trying to get by, who had suffered as he had under his twisted attitude and greed.
The clan wouldn't move until dark; the shadows would be their friends. Harm was going to approach the town by the trail. His group would follow at a distance. He wanted to cause a distraction as the others swept into the town. They would all make their way towards Satil's estate, its ostentatious presence a scourge for the regular townsfolk.
As the light faded, the nervous tension grew, and the rambling thoughts of the leaders swam in his mind as they decided on their group's paths. It wasn't overwhelming as Harm had expected, but strangely calmed him as he listened to them. They were being cautious yet brave, placing their lives in Harm's hands.
Torches burned brightly, their flames flickering in the night's breeze; a fire burned brightly just outside the town on the main trail. Several bodies huddled close to keep the chill away. They didn't look professional, just people dragged to defend against a dwarven retaliation. It wasn't dwarves, though; it was the same beings many of them had slaughtered and belittled over the years, Harm concluded. His anger flared, and as the last ray of light vanished, he stood.
I'm approaching. I will tell you when to move, Harm thought.
The responses flooded back, but he ignored them now, his focus in the distance. Harm equipped his new armour, the matte black drawing the shadows in closer. One of the party gasped at seeing him. The only one who had seen the armour was Pardew when he had been fitted. It was perfectly crafted; the strappings cinching his skin, holding it still; it felt comforting and reassuring, like a second skin he should have worn all along.
As Harm stepped out of the gully and onto the trail, not two hundred feet from the fire, the god spoke.
For your family, the time has come. The revenge you seek is now! Do you agree? The god slithered into his mind.
I do, Harm thought.
Laughter flooded Harm's mind; the jolting difference and volume made him stumble. He heard a whisper behind him from one of his group as he tried to regain his composure.
'I do,' you said, 'I do.' The cackle of the god sent electricity through his body.
You tricked me, Harm thought in a panic.
As he froze on the trail, he felt unease; the shadows by his feet started to crawl as though they were alive. His mind was broken, torn with emotion, as he watched them twist and weave over his armour-clad body. He tried to scream, but no sound escaped him. He felt the darkness seep into his skin; the shadows wormed their way through the slightest gaps in his armour, working their way through, and the chill of death gripped him, its icy cold grasp clenching his heart.
His heart throbbed in his ears; its pulse quickened for the briefest moment, then it stilled. Terror was all Harm sensed, memories of those dead before him, by him, their lives lost to the requiem. The group by the fire hadn't seen him, the fire's light not reaching where he stood.
Boom.
His heart thumped, then stopped again.
Boom.
That wasn't his heart; he knew if he had split his chest, all he would find is a black, soulless orb. It pulsed, but his veins no longer ran warm.
What have you done? Harm thought in panic.
What is needed, what you agreed to. The god replied, its voice filled not with humour, but a sickening warmth. You come closer! Now get your revenge.
The silence that filled his mind after the god's last thought was more unnerving than the feeling of the shadows entering his body. It was a vast ocean of nothingness, as images of his loved ones flickered into sight. Dahlia smiling, then his final image of her lying in her coffin. His heart couldn't break; he knew it was no longer his to break. Voices screamed in his mind, erupting against the silence.
The thudding footsteps echoed in the night as those by the fire looked up, gasps and cries erupting from their lips as the demonic beast charged them. The black-clad form sprinted, its bright red coals blazed, where eyes should have been.
Florence flashed, and men screamed. With each dying breath taken, Harm felt his body surge. Each soul taken, strengthening him; his veins pulsed with a bitter chill. The sensation revolted Harm, yet the beast that now lay within him moaned in pleasure, absorbing the life force of those he killed. There was clarity in his actions, whether he accepted them or not. He had become a Knight of Death.
