The Lost Runes Saga [Epic Fantasy]

Later than same day, Alvarn sweated under the weight of his too warm coat. The sun brought renewed warmth with it as spring approached with giant strides, and he hated it. With cold, you used a coat to keep warm. That, and a sowilo rune or two, was all you needed. In spring and summer that all flipped. Izas runes were a thing, of course, but they were even trickier than warmth runes to get just right, and walking around with nothing more than your shirt on did not appeal to Alvarn in the least.

He sighed and pushed his way past a few slow people streaming through the gate leading into Nordstan. Having promised the aid of soldiers, there was nothing more to it than finding the marshal and making him understand the urgency and importance of the task. Nervous, he glanced up at the sky. Empty. For how long?

Siv and the rest of the rune scribe students, and the few proper rune scribes who'd joined their cause, would be out and about, kept somewhat safe by Ida's guild as they crafted additional styrka-algiz glyphs that the growing population of Halmstadt could use to protect themselves. An increasing number of people were arriving in Halmstadt, rather than fleeing from it. Monster acitivity was growing in the surrounding countryside, with whispers of attacks by new, previously unknown beasts spreading throughout the city of Halmstadt. Shadows, too, were about. Another item on his list of things Vidar left for him to deal with. Alvarn hoped his friend was safe, but he couldn't help but daydream about what it would've been like if he had joined Vidar on his journey rather than stay put. Now that would've been an adventure. Instead, he was stuck with a crushing weight of responsibility. On the topic of crushing weight, he also needed to go and somehow close the massive stone gate Vidar described.

"First the marshal, then the gate," he muttered to himself as he broke free of the crowd and hurried his steps toward the keep.

Much of the roof of the massive building, along with the topmost two floors, were demolished beyond repair. As Alvarn approached, he noticed an increased soldier presence. Patrols were everywhere and ballistae stood in regular intervalls on the plaza around the keep itself, all of them manned and pointed up into the sky. The entire area was like a beehive of activity, with soldiers running this way and that, builders and other crafters arguing with clerks, and even men and women wearing the steward's colors delivering messages and carrying arms.

Alvarn didn't make it far onto the plaza before a patrol of soldiers stopped him.

"Halt! What is your purpose for approaching the keep of Halmstadt?!" one of them cried out, a young man, younger than Alvarn himself, even, and full of brittle confidence.

"Greetings," Alvarn said, raising his hand to show the writ pronouncing him a full member of the guild. "I have come to petition the marshal on behalf of the rune scribes' guild."

"About time!" one of the other men at the back grunted.

The young one at the front peered over his shoulder, then shrugged. "Many of the ballistae are missing barrier runes, and the promised rune scribes have been absent. Are you here to make amends?"

"Something in that manner," Alvarn said, his pleasant smile not faltering. Dealing with men of this type, power-hungry, arrogant youths, was best done with a good helping of patience and humility. Allowing anger to lead you only would only lead to a struggle, and a possible confrontation of violence. Neither of those outcomes would serve Alvarn this day, so he chose a better path and ignored the slights hidden within the youth's tone of voice and between his words. "I am sure Jarl would be interested in hearing me out, if you please."

The soldier squared his shoulder and huffed. "Jarl is no longer the marshal, but I'll take you to the one holding that honorable title, as he is close with my family."

"Thank you," Alvarn said.

Rather than head into the keep proper, the guardsmen brought him to a small building with the look of a school-house about it, squat but well-kept, the type where those with means sent their children to learn their letters. All the while, the three surrounded Alvarn, walking in front, behind, and to the side of him, like he was a prisoner of some sort. He ignored it. Let the boys have their games. Alvarn was used to less than stellar treatment from his time as a student and so it was no blow to his pride.

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The vestibule was a veritable chaos of overcoats and hats, mirroring the frenzy of work happening in the rooms to the left and right of the entrance, with people poring over maps, papers, and books of lore. From the thuds coming from above, the activity stretched to the second floor as well.

"Come with me," the lead soldier boy barked, heading deeper into the house. They skirted along the wall through the room to the right as to not disturb those working, continued through another, similar but smaller room, then to an open door leading to a spacious office.

"Marshal sir!" the soldier barked, straightening.

Alvarn couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in surprise at the youthful character seated behind a desk. Schooling his expression, he declined his head to show deference. "Marshal."

"Who're you?" the young man said, his voice high and trembling, betraying the air of feigned authority and confidence around him.

"My name is Alvarn. I have come to petition you regarding the rune scribes' guild."

Jarl's replacement waved the soldiers out of the room, then turned his attention back to Alvarn. "Sit, sit. Of course I'll hear a petition from the prestigious guild. I'm afraid uncle, erm, I mean, the steward, is cross with you."

"Oh?" Alvarn asked as he sat down in a chair opposite the desk. "What have we done to upset the steward?"

Best inquire about the animosity first, before requesting aid.

"The ballistae require runes. What are they called, the shield ones?"

"Algiz."

"Algiz, that's right. Also the arrows."

"Styrka,"

"That's the one. The rune scribes have been far too absent. With the scribes from Stalheim having left to journey back to the capital, Nordstan is in dire need, but have had trouble locating scribes."

"That is why I have come," Alvarn said.

"To make amends?" the marshal asked, his voice hopeful.

"To offer explanation, would be more accurate. Obviously, the guild will do its utmost to honor any agreements made, once its able."

"Able. you say? Have you not seen the keep? Those winged monsters could return at any moment."

"The guild has been set upon by Halmstad's criminal element. The thieves' guild has imprisoned approximately half the members of the guild, if not more. I'm here to request the aid of your soldiers to free them, Viktoria the guildmistress among them."

The marshal slammed a palm onto the table, leaving a sweat mark when he removed the hand to point at Alvarn. "Scoundrels! This is an outrage! Of course, the city will aid you with every soldier we can spare."

This whole endevour was running much smoother than Alvarn had anticipated, and he leaned back in the chair, allowing himself to relax a little. "That is well, marshal. My gratitude. Once the rune scribes are free, I'm sure Viktoria will see to Halmstad's needs."

"Thank goodness. The steward would not let me hear the end of it otherwise!" The marshal stood and walked over to the still open door to shout through it. "Daniel! Where are you? Get in here, now!"

An older gentleman soon shuffled into the room and took the chair next to Alvarn. "You have need of my services, marshal?"

"Yes, yes," the marshal said, sitting back down. "We need soldiers."

"You have command of all soldiers and guardsmen in the city, marshal."

"Well, yes, of course, but how many are available for reassignment? My new friend Alvarn here needs help rescuing rune scribes from Halmstad's rabble!"

The advisor's eyes darkened and he glanced to Alvarn. "When you say rabble, you mean?"

"Thieves! Miscreants!"

"Marshal, may I speak with you in private?"

"What for?"

Daniel stood and walked around the desk, eyeing Alvarn all the while. Once he reached the marshal, he leaned in to whisper something that made the young man take on a paler complexion.

"Alvarn, I need a moment with my man."

A bad feeling was spreading in Alvarn's gut, but there was nothing he could do. "Of course."

They closed the door behind him, and when he was allowed back in a moment later, things were different. The marshal wouldn't even look him in the eye as he explained issues with troop reassignment, planning, and cost. Alvarn attempted to argue his point several times over, but all that accomplished was the marshal giving a few furtive looks over at Daniel, who was once again seated in the chair. In the end, the city of Halmstadt couldn't spare a single soldier, even if it meant their ballistae would have to go without runes. It was madness, but there were obviously something more at play here, with undercurrents of something foul-smelling. Pressing would do no good. Alvarn would have to find another way.

Crestfallen as he left the building and then Nordstan, Alvarn felt something smoldering inside his chest. It was a feeling, not the heartwell still regenerating essence after the disastrous visit to the church of the fallen angels. Anger. That was it, anger. Potent rage, even, or it threatened to build into rage. For now, it simmered below the surface, but even a thought about the injustice he'd just suffered was enough to stoke it. The feeling warmed him and it would have been so simple to allow it to grab hold and allow it to control him, to set the path forward. Rather than allow that, Alvarn pushed it down. Was this what Vidar felt like all the time? Giving in to it would have been so sweet, to set the flame ablaze and let it carry him forward. So sweet, but the path would soon turn ruinous. That much, Alvarn knew. Emotions like that were not to be trusted. Not with important matters such as these.

The rune scribes needed rescuing and no one would help. That meant Alvarn needed to find another way, and he would need to find one soon. For now, though, he needed to deal with that door Vidar kept reminding him off. What a pain.