Authors Note:
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, events and incidents are the product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Herb Quest Pt. 06: Dark Citadel
Note:
These events occur six months after the events in 'Fate of the Few'
Summary of preceding Herb Quest stories:
The three Human kingdoms of the southern lands were invaded, hordes of Orcs and Goblins descending on the ill prepared peoples of these lands. These 'monsters' were known to humankind, a foe they had fought off and on for centuries. This last time, things had been different. Instead of raids, the monsters had come to conquer. Led by Giants, creatures of fable that no human had laid eyes on in living memory, the invading army had been successful until finally the three kingdoms had united to defeat them.
The cost in lives lost had been horrific. More disturbing still had been the numbers of humans, women especially, that had been carried off as slaves during the invasion. Many of these women had been used as sex slaves by Giants, Orcs, Goblins and also Dire wolves, large wolf like creatures, intelligent and ferocious.
Survivors of these sexual assaults had returned with tales of a mysterious Herb, one that relieved pain, hastened healing and in sufficient doses increased the libido of a person, the properties of the herb allowing a human to mate even with a creature as large as a Giant and survive.
The value of this Herb could not be overestimated. The monarchs of the three kingdoms could see the value in it, along with the value of taking the fight to the broken remnants of the invaders, going north, crossing the mountain barriers where humans had not travelled in generations. Along the way, new creatures would be encountered, monsters from myth and legend, Minotaur's, Centaurs, Troll's and more.
Chapter One:
Even here, over a mile away, the hillside providing elevation, Alice could clearly make out the separate elements of the cacophony of sounds that reached her. The high ringing clash of metal on metal, the tortured shriek as armour was sundered by blows, shouts and screams of rage, pain and fury, the heavy thuds of blows falling on flesh, the thuds of bodies falling to the ground from which they would never rise again, cracks and whistles as sorcery lashed out from either side, men and monsters falling foul of dark mysteries.
It had begun as a battle, formal lines drawn up as two opposing armies prepared to set themselves against one another. As the day had progressed, the lines had sundered, intermingling and flowing into a thousand, tens of thousands, individual scenes of combat. One on one as two foes tested the others battle prowess, multiple opponents facing a single beleaguered warrior desperately fending off attack after attack. The battle had been reduced to a gigantic butcher's shop, a slaughter filled field where the dead and dying now outnumbered those still locked in combat.
Alice shook her head at the futility of it all. A human army from the three kingdoms had final brought the main strength of the Troll nation to battle. Sorcery and planning had given the humans the edge at the beginning, the Troll's suffering massive losses to spell craft and artillery consisting of hurled incendiaries, both of which had left the Troll's that were struck unable to regenerate. However, the Troll forces had an ace up their sleeve. They had formed an alliance with some centaur tribes and these fierce fighters, cavalry without peer, had struck the human forces from the rear, slaughtering many of the engineers manning the catapults before driving into the rear guard of the human forces. There had been a long and panicked ten minutes before the general commanding the army of the three kingdoms had been able to bring his own horsemen to bear on the centaurs. Both sides had been weakened by each other's stroke and so had fallen into a day long struggle to finish the other side off.
"Foolishness" a rumbling deep voice spoke.
Alice turned to look at Cazar, the Minotaur warrior who led the small contingent of his people, now allied with her and her band. He was old, over a hundred years by his own telling, but in human terms he was possibly no more than forty years old, past the peak of his strength but still a warrior prime. Beside him the Dire Wolf Sthor growled out his own assessment of the battle they watched, Alice not needing a translation to understand the grizzled creature was as disgusted as the others by the slaughter below.
"Lions led by Donkeys... on both sides. As you say, foolishness, but what does it mean for us?" Alice purposely turned her back on the view, instead turning to look down the far side of the hill where her own band made a temporary camp. They now numbered over two hundred souls. Eighty or so were human, perhaps twenty men and sixty women, all of whom had suffered during this conflict. Rape, murder, torture and slavery had been the fate of many peasants and townsfolk who had dwelt in what was now called the borderlands. When the Giants had led their armies of Orc's, Goblins and Dire wolves in an attack on the human settlements, it was the common folk who had suffered. Now that the three human kingdoms had united, defeated the invaders and were now pushing into previously unexplored lands in the pursuit of conquest, still more innocents were paying the price.
Almost twenty Minotaur's were scattered through the band, huge warriors with a nobility and code of honour that was more than just words, it was a part of them. While they appeared bestial in appearance, their actions and support had saved the lives of everyone in Alice's band on more than one occasion. They were now considered kith and kin by the survivors. By far the greatest number in the band however were the offspring. These were the children of the war, half orcs, half giants, half goblins, even some half Dire wolves. Products of rape and violence, they were nonetheless loved, treasured and protected by the human mothers that had born them. Young in years, the combination of their mixed heritages had meant that they were already beginning to come into their own as warriors, already leaving their childhoods behind them. Adolescent warriors who were taking to their Minotaur trainers instructions with grim diligence. A band of survivors that was becoming an army in itself. Her army.
Cazar stomped away from the hillside overlooking the battle, joining Alice in her perusal of their forces.
"The humans are too close, Deva and her scouts have warned us about that" he spoke, knowing that Alice was all too aware of this information. Sthor growled at the mention of Deva, a young human woman that he had taken as a mate these last months.
"My feeling is that the humans will take the field, but I doubt they will have the numbers to continue to pursue any survivors on the Troll's side. With winter coming on, this pyrrhic victory will see an end to campaigning, this year at least." Cazar scratched at a scar that decorated his face, old and puckered and inclined to itch. "They'll keep patrols out; look to consolidate the lands they've won. Which means we need to get further North."
"We need to get North but now we've a battle blocking the only navigable route according to you" Alice added.
Cazar huffed, the hot breath from his flared bull's snout stirring Alice's long light blonde hair. She was average height for a human woman, 5'7 or so, short beside Cazar's huge frame. He deigned to remain quiet, interested to see what Alice's decision would be. For over a year he had followed her, aided her. From the stories he had heard she had survived a battle with giants, freeing herself after days of use as a sex slave, battling her way back to freedom. The young woman had then taken it upon herself to hunt down Giants and Orc's who were engaged in the looting of the frontier. Over time she had developed into a warrior with a fearsome reputation. That hadn't been the reason he had allied himself with her. Cazar was no mean warrior himself, and skill with a sword was not a prerequisite for leadership in his society. Honor, courage and wisdom were the traits most prized. The fact that Alice had begun to gather these survivors under her wing, abandoning her quest for revenge so that she could instead take up the mantle of justice, that was what had drawn him to her side.
Alice ran the map she had studied alongside Cazar through her minds eye. The mountains here weren't as daunting as those that had lined the borderlands further south. It was the lack of provisions, the scarcity of game and the onset of winter that ruled out taking her people over the frozen peaks and narrow high passes. If the main pass was now blocked by the remnants of one or other of the two army's remnants battling beneath them, then she would have to take the only other pass. A pass that was controlled by a small city called Aestlin.
"Tell me about Aestlin" she said to Cazar who in turn shared a knowing look with Sthor before obliging Alice with an answer.
"A cesspool for the most part. Not even a city proper. A high wall at the mouth of the pass, a turreted citadel beyond it. Around the fortress, you'll find a warren of homes and stores that has grown up in the shadow of wall. Smugglers, cut throats, thieves and traders make it their home. Its not on the main trading routes so none of the bigger powers have sought to bring it under their control. It does offer advantages though for those seeking to avoid attention by travelling the main pass and I've heard it has added slave trading to its list of evil services."
"Who rules there?"
"Not sure. No one voice when last I passed through about ten years back. A council of sorts held the power, control was maintained through a fairly tough local militia that policed the streets. But a decade is a long time, I can't tell you any more than that as truth for now."
Alice walked to where her mount waited patiently, cropping at the grassy hillside with its teeth. She swung up into the saddle and began trotting down the slope, calling over her shoulder as she did.
"Then lets see what else we can discover, because its our only path out of here."
Cazar watched her as she rode away, his face settling into a thoughtful visage that softened his normally stern appearance. At his side, his companion of many years growled softly in the tongue of the wolves, one that was easier to learn to understand than it was to speak.
"Love, you talk of love my old friend? No, that one has no love within her, it was burned from her soul I fear. Her heart is wedded to the twin Goddess's of Death and Vengeance now. Honour is what keeps her here, honour and a sense of duty to those she has taken under her wing" Cazar answered, his eyes still fixed on the diminishing figure of Alice.
Sthor growled again, bumping his shoulder against the Minotaur's leg for emphasis. His message caused Cazar to splutter in embarrassed shock, looking down at his friend with wide eyes.
