Chapter 5
On the morning of the third day, they reached the eastern shore of Ascalon. A sizeable camp of Eldritchmen had posted up along the beach, and a number of rowboats lined the shore. As they rode past the tents bearing the familiar cross sigil, Iyo noticed a good number of the camp’s inhabitants were not clad in the familiar dark hoods and sigiled capes he had come to notice were the standard attire of the capital.
‘Prisoners.’ The sword’s voice was weaker, quieter in the thief’s mind than usual, ever since relinquishing it to his captors. But it was still there, and Iyo found himself oddly relieved at the fact that he was still hearing voices. He looked around to see some of the captives hauling wood from the treeline, while others were bound in pairs inside the tent. A small boat bobbed up to the shore, bringing with it another handful of Eldritchian soldiers. The guard that now carried the Shadknife at his side turned and headed down to the shoreline, and the thief felt the pit of his stomach drop.
He lost sight of the sword as his remaining captor shoved him inside one of the nearby tents. Iyo stumbled, and the guard took the opportunity to yank the rope on his wrists far enough to bind the thief to the pole in the center. Without a word, the Eldritchman turned and left, leaving Iyo to blink the dust from his eyes.
“Hello?”
As the tent came into focus, Iyo noticed he was not alone. Two others sat bound to the tentpole, a man and a woman in what appeared to be the tattered remains of some sort of monkish robes.
The woman spoke again. “You’re not from the settlement, are you?”
“Settlement?” Iyo asked.
“I’m sorry,” she replied, “we only arrived there a week ago ourselves, I still don’t know who’s who.”
The man craned his head so he could see the thief. “Where did they capture you?”
“About three days west of here.”
Outside, the yell of a soldier’s order to disembark echoed over the sound of the waves. A surge of panic gripped Iyo - almost as if something in his head was crying out - and then it faded.
“Are you alright?”
“Fine,” Iyo said, shaking the feeling off as best he could. “Why did they attack you?”
The man looked to his companion. “They called us pagans and heathens. They marched into our settlement two days ago and overpowered whatever small defense we had. I thought we’d all be cut down where we stood, but those of us that didn’t fight back were all taken.”
“They’re bringing you back to the capital?”
“You too, it would seem,” the woman cut in. “I’m Shannon, by the way. My husband, Baker.”
The man raised his rope-bound hand in as best a wave as he could muster.
“Iyoforeayo. Iyo’s fine.”
“Well, would that this were under better circumstances, Iyo,” Baker said. “But gods willing, they will see us through this.”
The couple bowed their heads suddenly, muttering a few unintelligible words between them. Iyo had seen the Eldritchmen do similar gestures of prayer before meals during their journey - a foreign gesture to him - but he found himself intrigued nonetheless.
“You sure don’t seem like heathens to me,” he said with a smile.
Shannon looked up, finishing the prayer. “It’s not their gods we oppose. It’s their false prophet on Loka.”
“Eldritch claims to be the font of the gods.” Baker said. “They see their warlord as the mouthpiece of the gods on Loka, and demand any religious followers swear fealty to him as such.”
“We would sooner die than claim that zealot speaks for any loving gods above.”
Iyo had never been a religious person, but he couldn’t help but admire the couples’ stoicism in the matter. If all it took to keep his head was saying this Skuhoo was a holy man, then he sure as hell wouldn’t think twice about it… but then again, he was an honest-to-gods heathen.
Before he could respond, a group of soldiers marched into the tent and untied the prisoners. In moments, they were on their feet and being led out of the tent and down to the shore, where a rowboat was being stocked with lumber. The three were unceremoniously shoved aboard, no doubt getting a few good splinters in the act. The boat was heaved off of the shore, and soon they were bobbing out over the waves, an armor-clad Eldritchman rowing them eastward.
No sooner had the shoreline camp disappeared over the horizon behind them, than Iyo spotted a string of barrier islands to the north. The air had started to become balmy, and the palm trees that spattered the string of islands swayed lazily in the tropical breeze.
Soon, the small archipelago fed into a large island, and as they made their way around the southern shore of it, the walls of Eldritch came into view. The carved stone was ornate and beautiful, but Iyo’s attention was diverted to the narrow tower that peaked up over it. Floating idly next to the tower’s topmost platform, anchored with heavy ropes, was a massive airship. Iyo gaped upwards at the underside of the wooden hull, which was tethered beneath the dirigible’s thick-woven envelope that heaved with the air and ballonets that kept it afloat.
The soldier ceased rowing to allow a large cargo ship to pass, then followed it slowly into the harbor. As they approached the docks, deckhands scurried to unload the supplies around them. The three prisoners found themselves handled as roughly as the lumber, as new soldiers hauled them ashore by their wrist bindings, and led them up the docks towards the main city.
The city of Eldritch seemed to gather around its center - a towering cathedral, so grandiose that Shannon gasped at the sight of it. Brilliant plate glass windows spanned the church’s walls, patterns and designs woven in color amidst the weathered stone spires that pierced skyward, texturing the stone frames of the structure. Iyo was sure they’d get a better look at the cathedral, as it soon became apparent that they were being led to its doors.
As they were led up the bustling main streets, Iyo glanced around at the crowds. Many wore the typical dark hoods, though it seemed only the armed guards patrolling the streets wore capes bearing the Eldritchian cross. Merchants shouted from behind colorful stands, peddling everything from exotic fruits, to leather, to bottles of strange glowing liquid that Iyo could only imagine was some kind of untrustworthy elixir.
At the very center of town stood the cathedral’s giant wooden doors. As a handful of soldiers worked to heave the door open, another guard began leading Shannon and Baker off around the side.
Iyo turned to follow, but a firm gloved hand held his shoulder back. “Where are you taking them?”
The guard said nothing, but kept his grip on the thief’s shoulder until the other prisoners had disappeared into one of the building’s side doors. The cathedral’s front entrance now stood ajar, and Iyo got a rough shove in the direction of the steps.
Making his way through the arching doorway, Iyo stood in awe of the cathedral’s interior - arguably more majestic than the outside had been. Ornate chandeliers dipped down from the vaulted ceilings, hovering over the long rows of pews that faced the raised font at the front of the room. A cloaked figure knelt before it in prayer, faced away from the thief as he slowly made his way up the aisle. When he had crossed nearly halfway, the figure stood and turned. His armor glowed beneath the royal Eldritchian cloak that rested on his shoulders, and Iyo knew at once who this was.
“Welcome to Eldritch, Iyoforeayo.” Skuhoo said to him. “Thank you for coming.”
“Didn’t really have much of a choice in the matter.”
Skuhoo smirked. “My apologies at the rough handling you received from my men. They saw you leave Sudkuste, and had to be sure you weren’t a LICA scout. But I can tell you’re not. The gods have given me clarity in this.”
He approached the thief, eyeing Iyo with curiosity. “You’re not even Lokan, are you? No matter where you’re from anymore… if you’re here, then your old world no longer exists.” Iyo thought he saw a genuine look of empathy cross his face then, as he placed a hand on the thief’s shoulder. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“I don’t know if I’ve lost anyone, just yet,” Iyo said.
The warlord smiled, reaching down and untying the knotted rope around Iyo’s wrists. As he turned to ascend the steps of the church platform, his voice echoed throughout the chamber. “The Artifact is a mysterious thing indeed, isn’t it? A true test from the gods, given to us so that we may prove our loyalty to them, in spite of the coils of mortality.”
“A test of what?”
“We must unite Loka as one, in service to them.”
Iyo looked up at the pedestal where Skuhoo now stood. “It sounds like a lot of people are fine with the gods. They just don’t want to unite under you.”
The Eldritchman laughed. “You think me power-hungry, don’t you foreigner? I assure you, I never sought this mantle. No true vessel of the gods hungers for the position - they find it thrust upon them.”
“And that’s you, huh?”
“I don’t expect you to know the history of our fair town, but us Eldritchians arrived here the same as all Lokans - torn from our previous lives, but saved by the glory of the gods to colonize this new world. We were a small town, attempting to live our lives in the peaceful and pious way we knew would please them. But war was brought to our doorstep. The barbarian heathens of Ascalon beset our island, looking to conquer us and enslave our people under their pagan banners. We were outnumbered and unprepared for their armies. By all rights, Eldritch should have fallen that day. But do you know what happened?”
Iyo thought he heard a faint whisper in his head - something not far off - but then it was gone again.
“The gods spoke to me,” Skuhoo continued. “Against all odds, they told me to stand against the hordes. I was not a fighter then, Iyo. A religious man, yes, but only a farmer and a preacher. My sword had never tasted blood until that day, but I knew the gods were in our favor when our humble army held the island against the Ascalonians. And when I cut down the last heathen soldier, my purpose became clear. Battle after battle we claimed victory, and when the barbarian hordes were exhausted, we claimed their lands in the name of Eldritch. As it was willed.”
Somewhere beneath them, a door slammed shut, echoing up through the cathedral hall. The warlord paced back towards the podium. “Despite what you may have heard, I am not a monster. We do not desire to bring war - quite the opposite, in fact. We do not judge the gods men pray to - the Old Gods, the Slime God, the Pumpkin Lord - in the end, they are all the same. The northern town of Hilo once opposed us with their pagan Slime God - but they have seen the light. They have accepted that Eldritch speaks for all gods, and the gods have rewarded their faith with swift victory in Kalros. I only hope that these other towns follow their example.”
“I was brought in with two other prisoners,” Iyo said. “Where were they taken? What do you want with them?”
“Your friends will stay in Eldritch until they have accepted the true faith. You, on the other hand… the gods have other plans for you.” As Skuhoo reached beneath the podium and pulled out the sheathed Shadknife, the cry in Iyo’s head swelled.
The warlord drew the sword from the scabbard, admiring the jeweled hilt. “An impressive item. Clearly not Lokan. And clearly more powerful than we understand…”
Iyo grimaced as the Shadknife’s voice pierced his head now. ‘Don’t just stand there, you idiot!’ He thought momentarily of leaping forward and grabbing for the hilt, going for the Eldritchman’s knees, trying to unbalance him long enough to…
‘Lose my head,’ Iyo thought back, pushing the suicidal fantasy from his mind.
“I could cut you down right now, foreigner. I could have you locked in a cell with your friends. You know that,” Skuhoo proclaimed. “And perhaps a lesser man would act on those impulses, and take this weapon for himself. But the gods have not willed that.”
The warlord stepped forward, and for a moment Iyo thought he had changed his mind. Then, surprisingly, he found the Shadknife’s hilt being offered to him. He grasped it tentatively, and an overwhelming rush of relief flooded through him.
“The gods do not mean for us mortals to understand the extent of that sword’s power. But you are meant to wield it in their name. In our name.” Skuhoo turned and paced back across the platform. “Tomorrow, you board a ship headed to the northern continent of Kalros. Our allies in Hilo battle on the frozen wastes against the Aurulian savages that claim to unite the barbarians against us. You will join their armies on the battlefield, and drive the heathens back to their wretched spire.”
The relief from the Shadknife quickly turned to panic, but Iyo saw no other choice than to nod in apathetic agreement. “Very well.”
Skuhoo smiled. “I’m glad you have seen the light, Iyoforeayo. Don’t make me regret this show of good faith. The gods may have willed me to spare your life this time, but perhaps the next time we meet, they will have given me new clarity on the matter.”
Iyo took that smiling threat as a good cue to exit. As he made his way back down the aisle towards the door, he thought he heard a faint scream - somewhere far below the floor - and for the first time he took notice of a small wooden door off to the side of the grand hall.
Two soldiers flanked him, guiding the thief out the massive wooden doors and back onto the bustling city streets. He found himself being led back in the direction of the docks, where several larger ships were now moored.
The Shadknife pulsed in his head. ‘We’re going too far north!’
‘We’re not going to Kalros,’ Iyo thought. He glanced at the street ahead, and noticed a small alleyway behind a large wooden building. He slowed his pace as they passed by, and sidestepped towards it. As the guards turned, hands grasping for their swords, the thief slipped into the shadows of the alley. Shouting their objections, the soldiers followed him into the darkness, as Iyo drew the Shadnknife from its scabbard.
***
“Shan!” Baker cried out, as he watched Eldritchian soldiers drag her back towards their cell. The iron bars clanged open, and her limp body was dropped inside next to him. He clambered over to her, cradling her head as she coughed and wheezed. “What did they do to you?”
“They kept me alive,” she smiled up at him. “That’s all that matters.”
“Gods damn them,” Baker murmured. “They’re trying to make us break. We have to stay strong, Shan.”
Her smile began to falter, as she coughed up a bit of blood. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take…”
Baker wiped the blood from her mouth with his tattered shirt. He wanted to say something, but deep down, he wasn’t sure how much more he could take either.
“What are you doing?” The guard’s voice drew Baker’s attention to the hallway outside their cell. A hooded soldier descended the stairwell of the dungeon, reaching beneath his white cape. “This is my shift toni-”
The word was ended abruptly as the Shadknife whipped around and severed the guard’s windpipe in an instant. As the dying Eldritchman fell to his knees, clutching at his neck, Iyo lowered his dark Eldritchian hood and relinquished the man’s keys.
“Gods be praised!” Baker said, and Shannon turned to see the thief opening their cell door.
“Are you alright?” Iyo asked them.
“We’ll be fine,” Shannon said as she pushed herself up to a shaky standing position. “But I don’t know for how long. I’m not sure how you managed to get down here, but I don’t think getting out of the city is gonna be so easy.”
Baker turned to them, frowning. “Did you see those gates when they brought us in? Once they’re sealed, we’ll never get through. And even if we did, we’d never make it off the island without a boat.”
“We’d never get out of the harbor before they sunk us,” Shannon said.
Iyo glided out into the hallway, peering up the stairwell. “We’re not leaving the city on foot,” he said. “Or by boat.”
“How then?”
On the streets above them, alarm bells began to sound, and the clamber of armored footsteps echoed all around. With a look of determination, Iyo turned and faced his two companions.
“We’re gonna steal that airship.”
