CLEO – Ashenshore

  It turned out that Pinkham’s Soothing Botanical Lozenges were also a staple in the apothecaries of Ashenshore. Whoever Pinkham was, he or she had a nice little business going, making and distributing the pain-killing lozenges.

  Three of the businesses were clumped together, all competing for customers with low prices and ‘specialty’ medicines, so Cleo managed to purchase another twenty lozenges for only five silver talents—half the price she’d paid in Ankratur.

  “Ankratur’s the ass end of the world,” the proprietor exclaimed when Cleo mentioned the price difference after she’d made her purchase. “It costs extra to ship goods there, but you can also charge more since it’s a risky place to do business. In the end, I’d probably make a little more profit, but it’s not worth it, even if adventurers are free with their coins. This is as close as I want to get to the Blighted Lands and the undead.”

  “I can understand the feeling,” Cleo said, but wondered if the man had even been to Ankratur. Rosalia and Kalak had been struggling to make a living, and she thought they were fairly competent adventurers.

  Were they, though? She had to admit to herself that she didn’t know any other adventurers to compare them to. And with the fact that everyone was so secretive about cards and their abilities, it was incredibly difficult to judge how capable someone was, and asking outright was rude and almost taboo.

  Rosalia had some sort of identify ability card, as did one of the gate guards at Ankratur. Maybe it would be worth buying one when I can afford it? It would take up a card slot, but Rosalia obviously thought it was worth it. Unless she just doesn’t have enough cards to fill all her slots, which is a possibility.

  Cleo sighed as she left the apothecary where the air inside was redolent with herbal scents and a slight astringency, and stepped onto the street where the morning air was chill and had a different tang—that of dust and sweat and smoke.

  Her lack of information was getting on her nerves, as was her dwindling supply of coins. Having handed over five talents for more lozenges, she was left with only twenty or so copper drabs and six silver talents. Her torc and armbands were worth something, as were the orichalcum beads adorning her dress, but she wanted to hang onto them until she reached Lethanas where she was sure she’d get a better price for them—but then again Rosalia had recommended against selling any of the valuable beads if she could avoid it.

  She left the early-opening shop and trudged along the street in the pre-dawn light. Cleo knew it was only her imagination, but as her reluctant steps took her closer to the meeting place Dalvin had designated, her backpack seemed filled with bricks, so heavy it felt.

  And the further she walked, the more on edge she became, her eyes darting to whoever else on the street moved too close. There were few out and about at this time, but Ashenshore was stirring quickly as the sky lightened, and Cleo gripped the straps of her pack nervously as she hastened along—yesterday’s attack by Zane and the beckoning mission waking a prudent, life-preserving awareness within her.

  Her nervousness receded, though didn’t fully dissipate, when she arrived at the square in front of the 13th Legion’s main headquarters. She counted over twenty separate groups, squads of legionnaires each with one or two individuals without the standard legion armor. They were the conscripted carded, she decided, fairly certain it was the case. Though she shouldn’t make assumptions, since if she were in charge of the legions, she’d make sure she could get as many cards as she could for her soldiers. It was a good bet that quite a few of the legionnaires were also carded, even if they were minor abilities.

  The guttural accents of the legionnaires, talking and shouting and laughing, too loud and strident for this time of the day, grated on her ears, and she tried to block out the rising din as more and more soldiers gathered.

  She spotted Aedan and his two ever-present bodyguards, and made her way over. An acute sense of the situation beset Cleo as she crossed the square, which affected her physically as her skin grew hot and she felt herself sweating even in the crisp morning air. She winced at her own odor, not accustomed to the hand-washing she’d had to make do with. She wasn’t rank or filthy by any means, but she was uncomfortably far from her usual cleanliness.

  Cleo had no illusions about the mission she’d been coerced into. It might be easy, but she knew that what could go wrong usually did, and she was mentally preparing herself for the worst.

  Aedan stood near a squad of soldiers, led by a short but thick-set silver-haired officer—she assumed—in banded armor, wearing sword and dagger while the rest of the legionnaires sported plated leather, shields, and spears.

  She would have to ask about the significance of the blood-red painted shields and the twisting yellow lightning bolts sometime.

  “Are you Cleo?” the weathered officer barked at her. He was past middle-aged, but it looked like the years had only stripped him of any weakness he’d had, leaving a fiery, hard-bitten soul. He was a man who’d seen and lived through a lot of action, and it had hardened him.

  She nodded. “I am.”

  “You’re late.”

  The other legionnaires in the squad all stared at her, some with grins, others with curiosity or contempt. Cleo found herself blushing under their scrutiny.

  “It’s dawn, isn’t it?”

  “It’s after dawn. Fraking amateurs.” The officer wrinkled his nose at her. “My name’s Sergeant Hagnar. You, and your friend, the researcher and his minders, listen up. I’ll say this only once. I’m in charge, and you do what I say. No questions, no hesitation, got it? I’m not losing good legionnaires because you can’t, or won’t, do what you’re told.”

  “Fair enough,” Cleo said.

  Follow orders and get this over with. Got it.

  Aedan blinked a few times, but after a glance at his bodyguards he nodded in agreement.

  “Get this,” continued Sergeant Hagnar, “I’m mean and nasty, and I’m getting too old for this shit. But I’ve stomped more ass and pissed more blood and banged more holes than a hundred of these legionnaires put together, and I’m not going to get my head cut off or my guts gnawed on by some undead shit-rag because I had to babysit a few idiots who had no idea what they were doing.”

  Holes, thought Cleo. I should practice my Hole card more.

  “Are you listening to me, little Miss Cleo?”

  “I am, sir!” Cleo said. What did they… she thumped her fist into her chest as she’d seen the other legionnaires salute. A few of the surrounding soldiers chuckled, and most were grinning.

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  “Are you making fun of me, girl?”

  “No, sir!”

  Aedan took a step forward. “If I may—”

  “No, you fraking may not! I’ll tell you when you can talk. And if you bother me without permission, we’ll see how smart you sound with your balls stuffed in your mouth! Is that clear?”

  Aedan grimaced, but gave a short nod. He stepped back and shrugged to his bodyguards.

  “Now,” Hagnar said. “We’re going to approach this mission in an orderly and proficient manner. That means you do what I say, when I say it. I want a rundown of your abilities and a frank assessment of your weaknesses. I’ll decide what your strengths are. If you’re worried about anyone else knowing what your cards do, then you can whisper in my ear. But just because you’re whispering in my ear doesn’t mean we’re going to swap spit and take long showers together.”

  Oh! “Are there showers here?” Cleo said.

  Sergeant Hagnar glared at her. “A shower is the least of your worries! I’ve got a squad of new recruits who couldn’t fight their way out of a wet blanket, and I’m saddled with civilians who look like they’re going on a holiday. Fraking idiots. Are you as dumb as a rock, Cleo?”

  “Er… no… sir?”

  “Is that a question?”

  “No, sir.”

  “I’ll assume you’re as dumb as a rock until you prove otherwise. Now, what can you do?”

  “I’m an aura mage.”

  There were groans and whispers among the legionnaires, and some laughter. Sergeant Hagnar scowled and spun on his heel, and it was his squad’s turn to be glared at.

  “Is there something funny about this situation?”

  A chorus of “no sergeant” echoed in response.

  “I didn’t think so. Any help is better than nothing, you dolts. Never turn your nose up when you’re given an extra advantage. That might be the only thing that keeps you alive out there. Now, get your hands off your peckers, and yes, even you women legionnaires have peckers if I say you do, and check your gear, while I deal with these two idiots.”

  That’s a bit harsh. “I’ve fought undead before.”

  Hagnar turned his scowl back to her. “I don’t care if you married an undead. What. Can. You. Do?”

  Everybody probably knew anyway, so there was no point hiding most of her abilities. “I can shield against damage, and I have a curse which slows as well as does void damage.”

  “Void damage? What the frak is void damage good against?”

  “Um… everything?” As far as I know…

  The sergeant scratched his chin, frowning. “All right, then. Could you shield the whole squad?”

  “Yes. As long as they’re in my party. The same party I’m in, I mean. But it’s not as effective as shielding fewer people.”

  “Huh. You want to join the Legion, girl? Then I can add you to the squad.”

  Ah… so Hagnar is carded, and either all the legionnaires are, or the sergeant can add them into a party anyway, somehow.

  “Not particularly,” Cleo replied. “But, Magnus conscripted the both of us, so we kind of are, already.”

  “That’s Commander Magnus to you.”

  “Commander Magnus declared us deputized into the Legion, so I was wondering, since we’ve been conscripted, what rank do we hold?”

  Hagnar looked like he’d stepped in something unpleasant. “Do you think you’re funny, girl?”

  “No?”

  “Good. You have no rank. You’re here despite my protests, and I hope to the Watcher that you don’t get us all killed. But since I follow orders, you’re tagging along.”

  And then Cleo received a notification:

  [Party invitation from Sergeant Hagnar received!]

  Cleo hesitated for a second before deciding that she really had no choice.

  Hide my class and abilities, please. And accept.

  [Party joined with Sergeant Hagnar (Iron Legionnaire), Bronze Legionnaire x2 (Bronze Legionnaire), Copper Legionnaire x7 (Copper Legionnaire)]

  Okay, so sergeants are carded, and Iron Legionnaires, whatever that means. And either all the legionnaires are carded, which seems unlikely, or one of his cards gives him the ability to form parties with uncarded somehow, which was more likely. She didn’t think asking questions would get her answers or endear her to Hagnar.

  “You shield when I say you shield,” Hagnar said. “What’s the range?”

  “Er… unlimited, I think?”

  “You think?”

  “I haven’t tested it. I’ve only recently come into my card, and—”

  “Watcher give me strength,” Hagnar said as he rolled his eyes. “We’ll test it on the march.”

  March? Cleo’s muscles ached at the thought. “But I should keep the shield up constantly.”

  “Are you questioning me?”

  “No. I mean… yes?”

  “You’ll run out of mana. And when we need your shield, then where will we be?”

  “It doesn’t consume mana.”

  “All shields consume mana.”

  “Well, yes, but mine reserves mana to keep it operational, and only uses mana when it’s damaged.”

  “Reserves?”

  “Kind of… permanently keeps aside, I guess is the best way to explain it.”

  Hagnar stared at Cleo for a long moment, and then spoke.

  “All right. Keep it up then, but we’ll test it as we go. I don’t want you running out of juice.” He turned to Aedan. “Pretty boy, what are you good for besides getting barmaids pregnant?”

  Aedan looked embarrassed. “I’ll whisper, if that’s all right?”

  “You ain’t getting me pregnant if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “No! I just…”

  “I get it. Well, make it quick.”

  Aedan and the sergeant leaned in close, and the ‘researcher’ spent a minute or two whispering, and responding to Hagnar’s queries. In the end, the sergeant grunted and shooed Aedan away.

  “Right then,” Hagnar said. “We’re falling behind, so load up and we’ll ship out. From now on, I want you all on high alert. You’re all too ugly to live forever, so keep your wits about you and you might make it back to stick your pecker in whatever it is you fancy. Or be stuck, whatever, I don’t care.”

  Cleo glanced around to find there were only a few squads left in the square, and a grim-faced Dalvin heading their way.

  “Sergeant,” Dalvin said to Hagnar.

  Hagnar responded with a crisp fist-to-chest thump salute. “Second Exalt-Mage.”

  Hmm… Second Exalt-Mage… does that mean second out of all the legion mages, or second as in one rank higher than third?

  “Look after Cleo and Aedan, Sergeant. I have a feeling they’ll be more useful than you think.”

  “Sir, it’s my job to bring everyone back alive.”

  “We’re ready to fight to the death for the Empire, sir!” shouted someone among the legionnaires.

  Dalvin smiled wryly. “Let’s hope that won’t be necessary. Don’t take any risks, Sergeant Hagnar. We need information more than we need a few more Corrupted Scourge put down.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Your squad is in luck. You’re leaving in a few minutes, by portal. Which should cut a few days off your mission.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Dismissed.”

  Hagnar saluted again, and then turned back to his squad and began to shout orders.

  Dalvin handed a small cloth bag to Cleo. “Your wand and potion, as requested.”

  “Oh!” Cleo squealed with delight. “Thank you!”

  She took the bag and opened the drawstring to reveal a bone-white wand and a small vial protected by a hardened leather case. That makes sense, Cleo thought. An easy and cheap way to protect the glass potion vials.

  “The wand is… serviceable,” Dalvin said.

  “What does it do?”

  “You can’t read the runes?”

  Cleo examined the wand to find tiny runes carved into it, all clustered around the thick end, which she assumed was where she should hold it.

  “Runes are different where I’m from,” she said, which was the only thing she could think of.

  Dalvin raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you know which one is the mana rune?”

  “Er… no.”

  “So how are you going to charge it?”

  “You’ll tell me which one it is, and then I can charge it.”

  “Do you know how to charge a wand?”

  “This is my first, and no. But I’ve been practicing mana cycling, and I’m getting better at it.”

  Dalvin gave a slight shake of his head. “It’s a void bolt wand. Your curse does void damage, correct? And there are hardly any void-aligned legion mages, so we have a few spare wands for them in storage. If you were fire-aligned, you’d be out of luck.”

  Wait, my mana is supposed to be void-aligned? “Did you see I was void-aligned when you examined me?”

  “No, but if your spells do void damage, it’s a good bet you’re probably aligned that way.”

  Probably? “But it’s possible I’m not?”

  “Some carded are lucky enough to have multiple alignments, like me, and a rare few have un-aligned mana. Now, Cleo, I don’t need to tell you to take care out there. Hagnar’s tough but fair, and one of our more experienced legionnaires. Do what he says, and do what you can to keep everyone alive. I have to go, as the portal mages need guidance and a destination. Good luck!”

  Dalvin nodded to Aedan, who returned a curt one of his own, and made his way to a group of three robed figures who had approached, and stood on the other side of the squad.

  “Gather up, legionnaires!” bellowed Hagnar. “You’re in for a treat! At least your feet are, your stomach will hate you.”

  Aedan and his two bodyguards moved to gather with the squad, and Cleo followed.

  There was a building tension in the air, as Dalvin and the three portal mages did whatever they do. One of them circled the squad, a silver rod pointed at the ground. When she returned to the others, a pale golden glow began to emanate from whatever magical line she’d made around them.

  “Watcher’s blessings upon you all,” Dalvin said.

  And the world went white.