The Unworthy and The Damned Read online

  By the time she spotted a man with a mule and wagon, she could barely hold Edge up. She was probably close to town, but every step she took now required a gargantuan effort. Shudders ran through her body from the strain of pressing on. "Excuse me," she croaked, her voice unrecognizable, "could you please lend us a hand? My friend is hurt and needs help."

  The mustached man in plain clothes stared. "You look rather hurt yourself. Your face is badly bruised, and your arm is bleeding."

  "His are much worse. But I am quite tired, so I'd appreciate if you would give permission to put him on your wagon and take us to town." She hoped there would be healers there, or at least people with better knowledge of healing than her.

  "I was just planning to go out... but if his life is in danger, I'll take you back."

  "Thank you." She painstakingly shifted Edge off her back and laid him down in the cart, noticing his blood had stained a good portion of her white cloak red. That wasn't good. "Do you think your mule is strong enough to pull both of us?"

  The man looked them over. "Neither of you seems too heavy, and it isn't far to town. The old girl can handle it no doubt."

  "Then I apologize for burdening her, but I think I need a ride too." She fell facedown onto the cart, dragged herself forward a bit so her legs weren't dangling uncomfortably over the edge, and closed her eyes.

  #

  From there it didn't take long at all to arrive in town, probably less than hour though Celia couldn't be sure given she had only been semiconscious for part of the way. "We're here, girl," the wagon's owner said. "Are you awake?"

  "Yes, I was... just resting." Fortunately, she felt better after the break. Her heart skipped a beat remembering Edge's condition, and she checked if he still lived before exhaling in relief. Not too late yet. "Where is the nearest healer?"

  "We don't have a specialized healer here, though many of us know remedies passed down by our ancestors." No, dammit... "But there is a person staying here temporarily, who has set up what she calls a clinic in an unused house. Some have complained about her being a fraud, though her services are free so far, yet others report good results."

  Fraud? Celia wondered if this was the same woman they'd heard of before. Even if her skills might not be legitimate, though, there was at least a chance they were. She handed the man a few coins. "Thank you for bringing us this far. Now, can you point me in the direction of this clinic?"

  She carried Edge the rest of the way, to a faded-looking cottage with broken shingles hanging. Struggling up a couple steps onto the porch, she knocked while hunched under his weight. "Who's there?" a female voice asked. "If it's nothing urgent, can you wait a few minutes?"

  "It's pretty urgent. My friend is badly hurt—maybe dying." And, she didn't know if she could get him up again if she had to put him down.

  The door opened. A young woman, though at least five years older than Celia, stood chewing on something. She was of medium height and wore deep blue robes, with messy hair and a round face that made her look childlike at first glance. Her eyes widened as she took in her visitors. Mouth still full of food, she mumbled, "Well, if you aren't tall and strong."

  She would have liked to be much stronger for situations like this. "Never mind that, my friend Jed's been gutstabbed! Help me get him in bed and treat him... if you have a bed."

  The healer nodded. "I'd expected to mostly take patients who would visit and then leave, but I've fixed up the old bed for myself. You can use it in an emergency. Come, this way."

  Celia followed her into a room full of decayed furniture, clearly in disuse for a long time until recently. She had laid a bedroll over the rotting wood bed, which she motioned towards. Celia questioned if these were the best conditions for an injured person, but wasn't exactly in a position to be picky. She set a still unresponsive Edge down with a groan and pulled up his shirt to reveal the bound wound. "He was stabbed with the spike of a poleaxe. Can you save him?"

  Rolling up her sleeves, the healer peeled away the bandages to examine his injury and frowned. "This looks bad." She put her hands to his side, and a golden glow came over them. She could use magic? Celia couldn't help but feel a sense of awe. But after a good minute or so of pressing against his flank with a strained expression, she gasped and the glow dissipated. She moved her hands away, and the gash remained.

  "What happened? Were you not able to heal him?"

  "I apologize. I've done what I can. I slightly strengthened his lifeforce, so he won't die as fast." As fast? "But at this point, my skills aren't enough to heal such a terrible wound. If he doesn't get treatment from a better healer, it'll eventually claim him."

  "A better healer—do you know of one?"

  "Of course. My master could probably save him." She paused, an anxious look in her eyes. "He's far away though, and I doubt Jed could last until we got to him. I don't know where there might be another skilled healer nearby, sorry."

  Celia's mouth felt dry as she gazed at Edge's pale, unconscious face. "Are you saying we'll have to just let him die? I could get a cart and take him around looking for a healer, I suppose, but I'm afraid I probably wouldn't find one in time."

  "Hmm... there might be another way. There are certain stones that can enhance a mage's power for a time, until they're used up. If we could get one of those for me, I might be able to heal him after all."

  "Where can we find such a stone?"

  The girl looked away in thought. "They're pretty rare. I think I've heard they might be found in the Valley of Shadow and Steel... but I also hear it's haunted."

  Great. On top of dealing with assassins, one of them possibly being a necromancer, now she might have to brave ghosts too. Yet if it was the best chance to save Edge, she wouldn't shirk it. "Are you willing to go there?"

  "The Valley of Shadow and Steel doesn't sound like my favorite kind of place. But if it's to save a life, and also give me a preview of what my skills may be like in a few years' time, I'll give a shot."

  "I appreciate it." Celia offered a hand, and the girl shook it with her own thickly callused one. "So, though it feels a bit late to ask this, what's your name?"

  "Katalina. But you can call me Lina for short."

  They left Edge in the care of a family Lina had helped before and set out for the valley shortly northeast of town. Along the way, they talked and learned more about each other, though Celia kept many details vague. "So your master sent you out on a quest to help people all by yourself?" she asked after her companion mentioned it. "Isn't that a bit much for a novice?"

  "It wasn't meant to be too long, just a taste of what life will be like when I'm a full fledged healer. Besides, the kingdom's at peace now. Traveling alone isn't that dangerous."

  She supposed her viewpoint might be clouded from being harassed by so many assassins lately. "By the way, I'm surprised you started learning the trade so recently at this age. I mean, you're not old, but I thought most new apprentices would be younger than me."

  A dark look flashed across Lina's countenance. "Not everyone gets the same opportunities in life."

  "Whoa, sorry!" She figured the healer might come from a poor background, and was a bit sensitive to even implied comparison with those from more affluent ones. She hadn't exactly bragged about her own upbringing, but maybe it was just assumed that a young church knight had a decent one. "I was just curious, but won't pry if you don't want me to. Say, what does that huge disk on your staff represent?"

  Lina recognized her attempt to change the subject judging from her furrowed brow, but let it slide. She gazed with reverence at the ornamental disk on top of her thick metal walking staff. "It symbolizes the sun god, whose light brings healing."

  "You don't believe in the one supreme Creator? We've seen direct evidence of Him, by way of the descendants of His angels."

  "Just because your god exists doesn't mean others don't. I've seen signs of the other divinities too."

  Celia supposed it could be so. She'd never had strong feelings about it ei
ther way, anyway. Maybe the lesser gods served the true Creator, or were His angels under different names. "I won't mind if you say a prayer to your gods to guard us from evil spirits, as I will mine."

  "It's not needed. The gods watch over us always, and will protect us if our actions make them see fit."

  The ground grew rockier and drier as they neared their destination. Heading down one last ridge, they finally beheld a narrow gap between two towering rock faces. "We're here," Lina said.

  She could hear the sound of wind from within, not overly fast or loud but a constant droning, inexplicable when the air out here was calm. "It's as if the restlessness of spirits moves the air. But you said a great battle was waged in this pass... how could an army fit into such a small space let alone two?"

  "My guess is it widens further in. I imagine it would've been more efficient for one side to meet the other right as they were coming through this narrow point, but not all decisions are made for efficiency. Besides, that story dates back to the Age of Heroes. Heroes as you probably know don't usually have much in the way of brains."

  Celia laughed. She would've expected a novice healer to be more reserved and careful with her words, but Lina had a tongue on her. "What do you think of our own hero-princess, Miss Elly the Invincible?"

  "That is a perfect example of the classical hero not requiring brains, and also being unsustainable in anything resembling a stable society."

  There were things Lina didn't know about Elly though, particularly the current form of her if Celia deduced correctly. It might be quite amusing if the two could meet. "Anyway," she said stepping towards the mouth of the valley, "I should probably go first. There could be dangerous things inside." She touched the hilt of her sword meaningfully.

  Lina's reply surprised her less than she might've expected. "And that's exactly why I should go first. You're just a tall girl with a sharpened hunk of steel, which hardly qualifies you to act all blustery around ghosts. You sound almost like a man, or a 'hero.' At least I have experience with the supernatural."

  She hardly thought it was "manly" of her to offer to go ahead. It had just seemed logical, being the bigger one and a seasoned fighter. But Lina did have a point. "I've, um, I've seen a cemetery golem."

  "You've seen?"

  "I suppose that wouldn't much qualify as practical knowledge." She could have lied and said she had slain the cemetery golem as the story went, but her actual skills would not match up to that claim if put to the test. "I suppose if you don't mind, you're free to take the front."

  "Then take it I will." Lina strode without hesitation into the gap from which wind cried, heavy staff leading the way, and Celia admitted she felt more than a smidgen of trepidation to follow. While being hunted by assassins was rather harrowing, for all she tried not to show it, she realized she had also been fortunate to find such steadfast help during this ordeal. Edge, Elly, and now Lina—none of them were allies to be scoffed at. Steeling herself against whatever perils she might meet next, she smiled slightly and stepped after the healer.

  #

  Elly yawned while she leaned back in the immense gilded throne that dwarfed her, the meeting of gathered nobles having dragged on for hours with little progress made. Her father wasn't here due to not feeling well, but she attended as a representative of the royal family in his place. The same people repeating the same arguments, with slightly different wording, over and over again grew annoying. "The crown wishes to raise taxes on us again?" flabby Duke Hode squawked in his high-pitched voice. "Does enough gold not already line the royal coffers, not to take away all our hard earned wealth?"

  His well-groomed neighbor Count Vail clad in shining robes added, "What does His Majesty do for us anyway? We take good care of ourselves in the north. If a king's purpose is to rob us blind while sitting on a seat he warms for a spoiled child, perhaps we don't need a king."

  "That's right!" another loud lord whose name slipped her memory said. "We're not afraid to stand up to the crown!" Elly put her legs up on an armrest and yawned again.

  The king's chief advisor Chancellor Reginald, a robust and muscular bald man in his fifties, spoke. "The taxes requested are for improvements in infrastructure, as well as strengthened defense of the frontier. While some may be inconvenienced slightly by them in the short term, all will benefit in the long run."

  "And how long is this 'long run' you boldly predict?" Hode demanded. "Where is the proof these projects will improve things in our lifetimes, if ever? Meanwhile we grow poor and the king grows ever richer... is this a just relationship between liege and vassal?"

  Vail waved delicately, in what he probably thought a forceful gesture. "And, you mention strengthened defense of the frontier? All should not forget myself and my fellow lords play a pivotal role in securing the northern border. It would not seem unreasonable to exempt us from certain fees."

  "Every lord contributes to the country's continued prosperity," Reginald said, "and every lord will be subject to this tax. What warrants the north's specific exclusion from that?"

  On and on they droned while Elly picked at her nails, played with her hair, and imagined the participants arguing in wigs and dresses. For all that some men poked fun at women's petty squabbles, male leaders weren't so different. Only they did it under the pretense of important business, and had power enough that their pettiness could effect the lives of many.

  Inevitably, the meeting ended with neither side backing down, and the nobles dispersed. Stretching after she hopped off the chair, Elly exited the throne room. She spotted Chancellor Reginald in the hall talking to Marcus, the former army captain recently promoted to second-in-command of the guard, and trotted over. "Good to hear your hard work has been paying off, Marcus."

  The bearded veteran warrior bowed. "I'm glad as well that you've returned safely from your trip, Princess. Cyril implied you ran into some trouble."

  Darn it, why did he have to talk about her so much behind her back? For all he was supposed to be the mature mentor to her troublesome youngster, he sure liked gossip. "Not at all. It was a fun shopping trip for me and Lynn, and that's about it."

  "I'm sure a building sized golem was nothing for you to handle."

  She couldn't suppress a giggle. "Cyril talks way too much."

  "He doesn't talk all that frequently, but says a lot when he does. I hope the king isn't being too hard on you. However you choose to present yourself, I still believe in you." They'd been through the hell of war together after all. Even if she had changed some since, the bonds formed then would not be so easily broken.

  "Chancellor," she said, "the northern nobles appear to have become overconfident in their status and power in the kingdom. Perhaps they need to be reminded of where they truly stand."

  He looked at her. "Not with violence, surely? With tensions already high, the last thing we want is a spark to incite open conflict."

  "There will be no violence from me unless provoked, and I doubt they will provoke it. They seem to think the side which supports the king has grown weak, hence their willingness to shout their defiance. I would merely have a talk with them and let them know that is not so."

  "I knew there was a reason Marcus still holds you in high esteem. You may act one way in public, but you are ever our great hero-princess at heart. I'll set up the meeting then, privately of course. Thank you."

  Elly smiled. "No need to thank me. You're the ones who work hard for the country, and I hope you'll continue to do so. I don't like to get involved too much these days, but I'll help you a little bit when I can, as in this."

  The two men exchanged looks, and Marcus agreed, "She definitely is the same inside. Good luck with your jewelry store and whatever other dainty pursuits are on your list for today."

  She bid them farewell and walked on with a grin. She enjoyed the compliments that recalled her past self, beloved by her people. Life would be easier if they could accept and appreciate her current self in the same way, yet she knew that wasn't realistic to expect.
She'd just have to bear the disdain of the masses, while giving her aid in more subtle ways now and then. She only hoped the greater purpose she had in mind would come to fruition, lest it all be in vain.

  Chapter 6

  Celia entered the valley just behind Lina to find it dark inside, dim enough not to be accounted for by the sheer walls which rose to its sides. Its floor appeared devoid of plants, leaving the dirt free to swirl in the light gusts, frequently changing directions, that perpetually blew. Between the limited light and dusty air which irritated her eyes, visibility was limited to a few yards. "I see why it has shadow in its name, but why Valley of Shadow and Steel?"

  "If what I've heard is accurate, you'll see soon."

  They walked forward, and before long she glimpsed the first shapes on the ground. At first she thought they might be corpses, and a shiver ran through her. They became clearer as she drew close, and she realized them not to be flesh or bone, but metal—empty armor and helmets lying as if their owners had fallen and then vanished from within them, along with war weapons of all kinds. Well, not all kinds; she did notice there were almost no bows or other ranged weapons, the arms present being predominantly used in melee. Sure, the wood making up bows might, or rather should have rotted over the ages, but the wooden handles of axes and other hafted weapons remained intact.

  "Didn't you say the battle here happened over a thousand years ago?" she asked. "So shouldn't even steel have rusted away since then, let alone wood?"

  Lina replied in a low voice, "Yes, it should. The most common theory is that the lingering souls of warriors have binded to their arms and armor, preserving them. But their bodies are gone... it seems like those manly heroes might have been more attached to the gear which symbolized their image than their corporeal shells in death. Also, some of that dust blowing in our faces might be what used to be their bodies."