The Lost Runes Saga [Epic Fantasy]

THIRTY-FOUR

The implications of joining a styrka rune to other runes excited Vidar as he demonstrated to the villagers how to power the algiz barriers he had painted on their shields.

A triggered styrka rune coupled with a sowilo rune meant anyone could keep their house warm. Kenaz and styrka would allow anyone to llight their own way. This discovery would lead to a revolution in how runes were used throughout Halmstadt and beyond. Then he frowned. That meant no one would pay him for the service of rejuvenating runes or crafting new ones. Perhaps he ought to consider these implications a little more before shouting his ideas at the world.

Though, by the looks of all those men and women now holding wooden bucklers with the styrka-algiz runic combination painted on them, there would be no keeping this a secret for long. They should incorporate the styrka runes into the blades of their weapons as well, the spears in particular, but Vidar was no skilled metal worker and didn't have time for them to rouse a smith that'd take all night to complete the task. Vidar's missed appointment with the thieves' guilds, Fjodor's and Ida's both, would not be met with understanding and kind words of forgiveness, he was sure. Night had returned, but it was still not too late. If he hurried, he could at least ensure he only missed one day's training and not two.

"I must take my leave!" Vidar shouted at the crowd of excited people.

The crowd cheered when he left, actually cheered. Vidar did his best to tamp down the grin spreading across his face as he waved to them. Finally, a little recognition. As he turned toward the road that'd take him to the nearest gate leading into Halmstadt, Tyr came running, his legs still looking a little stiff from Vidar having drained them of essence a few hours earlier.

"Vidar!"

"Is something wrong?" Vidar asked. A fresh wave of worry crashed over him at the thought of Leio not making it after all. But by the look on the Tyr's face, all was well.

"She's awake!"

"That's great," Vidar said, holding out his hand for Tyr to clasp.

Instead, the hulking villager gathered Vidar up into a bear hug, squeezing the life out of him. "I can never thank you enough!"

"Can't. Breath."

Tyr lowered him to the ground with a face radiating gratitude. "She wants to see yeh!"

"Sorry, but it's high time for me to get back to me and mine. Tell her she needs to rest."

A chuckle split Tyr's already smiling mouth, and words spilled out in a torrent. "I'll tell 'er but she won't stay in that bed for long let me tell ye she'll be right back up the moment she can stand!"

Vidar blinked at the onslaught but nodded after getting the gist of it. "Sounds like someone of my own heart."

"So yer with the rune scribes' guild?" Tyr asked.

"I'm not," Vidar said. "I have a rune shop in town. Runes Aplenty."

He was about to say something about the quality of the runes they were selling, and their innovative spirit, but was interrupted. A screech sounded from far up above in the forest's direction. The hairs on the back of his neck stood as he turned toward the sound, the words dying on his lips. As if death coming to Halmstadt wasn't bad enough, a second shriek, higher and full of malice, joined it. Then a third, and a fourth. The relative silence of the night was rent asunder by the telltale flap of enormous wings. Dragons. The dragons had come.

"No," he breathed. "Not yet. It's too soon."

Vidar looked up into the sky but saw nothing. Overcast. No stars, no moon, and no dragons. "If you go into the woods!" he shouted at Tyr. "Toward the house that burned down! There are old ruins. You know the place? By a small brook?"

"Huh?" Tyr asked, as if in a daze, his neck bent backward, his eyes opened wide toward the sky above.

Vidar gave him a small shove. "Do you know it?"

Tyr blinked and looked around before his gaze fixed on Vidar. "I know it. I must go to my daughter."

"Wait. In that ruin, next to the circular plaza, there's a building. In the building, there's a small tunnel. You must dig that out. It leads underground. You'll be safe there, understand? Spread the word, both here and in the city. Those of yours who sought refuge inside the walls are not safe, either. Bring water, bring food, and don't go too far into the tunnel. Do you hear me?"

"What?" Tyr said again.

"Do you understand?!" Vidar shouted in his face.

"Aye, lad," Tyr said, turning.

They both set off in different directions. Vidar ran, heading to the nearest gate.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

People were banging on it, trying to get in. Shouting, with the expected result. They'd shut it and cut off the only path inside. The only path for most people, that was.

However many dragons were up there, the screeching never stopped, and the beating of their wings haunted Vidar as he kept running along the wall until he found a clear spot where he hunched down and triggered the stakra runes carved into the soles of his boots. The thrust produced a sucking sensation in his stomach as they threw him into the air in an arc that ended on top of the wall, just before the long drop back down into the city.

Vidar thanked the fallen angels for his luck as he sprawled in a heap on the cold stone, his shoulder aching, along with the myriad of other wounds around his body. He hadn't healed them with dragon's essence, and he was glad of it now. When those dragons ended their screeching and swooped down to attack, he'd need every glimmer of dragon's essence. Unfortunately, little remained, not even a fifth of his heartwell's total capacity. It wouldn't be enough. He wasn't even sure what he was supposed to do against them by himself.

Jarl possessed the styrka rune and was hopefully well underway in crafting ballista bolts in the image of the one Vidar and his friends used to slay the first dragon. They had weapons, but he did not. Algiz. He was supposed to protect his friends and extend a helping hand to the rest of Halmstadt, and he needed to get Rend into a position where he might broker some sort of peace with the invading foes.

First, he needed to get down the damn wall.

"How did you get up here?"

A pair of soldiers appeared. It'd been the leftmost one who spoke. They carried heavy crossbows loaded with bolts engraved with styrka runes on the shaft and the metal heads. Even when addressing him, their eyes never left the sky.

"I don't know." Vidar stood and brushed snow from his coat.

One of them, a hard-looking man, glanced his way, then pointed behind them. "There's a door and a set of stairs. See that we don't find you here again. Didn't you hear what's up there?"

Vidar slipped between them, found the door, and quickly descended to street level. It wasn't far from the building where he should have been teaching rune craft at that very moment, but it was empty when he ran past. Few wanted to learn under these circumstances, it seemed, or perhaps they'd given up on him after he missed a lesson due to his sojourn past the wall.

The citizens of Halmstadt huddled in houses, some of which stood whole and undamaged, while others were little more than the ruins Vidar emerged into in the forest. Screams from unseen voices accompanied each screech from the dragons above. Palpable fear. Vidar didn't blame them. One dragon had almost been enough to raze the city. His own body went stiff with every sound, expecting a swooping attack from above to follow each time sign of life from the giant, flying creatures above the clouds. Yet, no such attack came, at least not yet. The reason for them holding back, Vidar couldn't discern, but he was glad of it, and wouldn't waste a moment.

The tallest building around was the keep. Of course, that was out of bounds. The church reached far above all other houses as well, but that was likewise not an option. So the rune scribes' guild would have to do. Somehow, he needed to get Rend up there.

Someone screamed to his right, and it was not a scream of fear, but of anger. The sound of metal striking metal echoed through the otherwise empty street, then a brief silence followed by a resigned grunt of pain. Vidar looked to the right. Fighting. Men against men, but none of them were guardsmen or soldiers. He ignored them. Not his problem.

Strangely enough, he ran past another group. This time, men against girls. The telltale shimmer of algiz runes shimmered around the girls as they tried to get away from the taller and stronger men, to no avail. Vidar groaned and hurried to their aid.

Three girls, the oldest, perhaps of an age with Ida, against six men. Hard-looking, wary, and with steel in their hands. They were laughing, enjoying themselves, even while glancing up at the sky again and again.

"What's happening here?" Vidar barked.

"This is none of your business," a rat-faced man wheezed back, waving a long dagger Vidar's way. "Get lost."

"You're trying to harm girls! You're thieves, aren't you?"

Vidar didn't need to ask. He'd come to recognize the signs. Most of them dressed a certain way, and they carried themselves with a swagger when not skulking about.

The rat-faced man spat. "And what of it? Get lost!"

"You're with Tyr?" Vidar asked.

Recognition sparked in their eyes, but from the disgusted sneers on their faces, it was not so.

"That son of a goat is no leader of ours," the rat-faced thief barked.

"Fjodor?" Vidar asked.

They laughed. "You know a lot, little man. But no. Now scram! You don't want to start leaking blood all over that fine coat." He waved at the air. "Can't you hear? The dragon is back. The crown lied to us. It never died, and now it's here again. You should hide, little man. Scurry and hide."

"Let the girls go, and I'll spare you," Vidar said, drawing himself up.

Another burst of laughter, and then, without so much as the flick of a wrist, his own algiz rune sprung to life around him, and metal clanked to the ground. A dagger.

Without hesitation, Vidar leveled the stakra rune at the clump of male thieves before him and triggered the rune. This was not a time for half-measures. The rat-faced leader turned to fine red mist, and the two behind him fared not much better. After that, the effect lessened, maiming but not killing. Only the last two of the group survived with their lives intact, thrown into the snow.

Not even a whimper escaped their throats as they scrambled to their feet, eyes wide and their mouths hanging open. They fled into the night.

Vidar turned from the mess in front of him. The smell alone made him nauseous, and the sight threatened to send his inner calm spiraling. So, he ignored it. Refused to acknowledge its existence. It wasn't the first time he took a life and it wouldn't be the last. If anything, Vidar needed to harden himself, to take the feelings of dread and despair and stuff them in a box to shove somewhere far back and deep down in his mind.

The girls were gone. He hadn't even noticed them leaving. Perhaps they would share news of his deed with Ida, perhaps not. As he forced his body into another run, heading back to the house he shared with Alvarn, Erik, and now Rend, he saw more scenes of violence. Man fought man, hurting and killing in the street. No more of Ida's girls appeared, for which he was grateful, but Vidar still didn't understand what was going on. No, actually, that wasn't true, he realized. It didn't take a genius to figure out how the different leaders of the thieves' guild had it out for each other. They must've sniffed out the truth of Fjodor's plans, and his alliance with Ida. With all soldiers called back to the keep to prepare for when the dragons attacked, the streets were clear and ready for an all-out war between the thieves.

When Vidar reached the shop, there'd still been no sighting of the dragons. He glanced up at the sky again as he unlocked the door. No lights were on inside. Vidar touched the algiz rune on the door. While it still held a good amount of essence, it was no longer full. It was enough to repel an attack, so he left it, hurrying into his home to make sure his friends were unhurt.