AN UPSTART INHERITANCE: IV -- THE ARTIFACT
Melchiah's lands had once been rich in ore and precious metals. Now, they were broken lands, and barren. Behind the keep there was a broad and shallow gorge that ran on for about a mile, and housed several entrances to the extensive mining tunnels. At one end of this gorge a small group of figures stood looking about uncertainly in the pale light of dusk, listening to the Lord of this wasteland.
"Flash fire oil is no new invention. In the old days, humans used it as a rather effective weapon against our kind." Melchiah had brought a massive crossbow with a double steel bow. He footed it, and turned the crank to draw the wire back. "And the flamethrower that has regained popularity so recently uses the same principles as this. It took me centuries to find a way to purify it, to find the essence of fire within, but the results were worth it. Compared to this, the flamethrower is a crude and ineffective weapon."
The bow cocked, he reached over to a padded box held by one of his children and took out a palm-sized bolt. It was a curious-looking thing, shaped like a long drop of water with an arrow's tailfeathers at the top. "This," he said with a certain kind of reverence, "is a flashbolt." It was a golden orange colour, and the surface looked slick, almost wet. Melchiah put it on the bow's slide and clicked the slide into place.
Some hundred paces away, the Melchahim had set up a corpse dressed in plate armour as a target. The sharp-eyed could see that its right eye was missing, the skin around it carefully cut away. Melchiah raised the giant bow to his shoulder and took aim. "Watch."
There was a loud clack when he pulled the trigger, and the bolt lodged itself in the target. Nothing happened for the shortest moment, then suddenly, the copse was torn apart as manhigh flames burst from the inside and it was enveloped in a ball of fire. The small crowd gasped, and stared at the surrogate warrior as it fell apart into flaming body parts.
"Kain's blood!" Arvin whispered, awed.
Melchiah lowered the weapon and turned to him. He replied, humourlessly, "If you're lucky."
...
"My Lord," Adoile asked, still looking wide-eyed at the inferno a hundred paces away. "Forgive me for asking, but why would you put such time and effort into making a weapon to destroy your own kind?" She looked at him fearfully.
"Your master and I have been allies for a long time, child," Melchiah replied calmly. "But I have never been so foolish as to rely on that alone. My warriors are neither as strong, nor as durable as yours as therefore I've always looked for other ways to gain an advantage. This particular plaything was never meant to see much use, merely to make a point." He looked at the burnt-out wreckage, then back to her. "The Melchahim are not defenseless."
She nodded, her eyes wide with a new kind of respect.
A lone crow circled the barren gorge, eyeing the burnt-out dead man. Melchiah looked up at it pensively. "I never thought..." he mumbled, shaking his head. Then he looked at Axel. "How did you know? I never told Raziel about this."
Axel shook his head and raised his shoulders slightly.
Melchiah sighed. "When coincidence seems too convenient, some would call it fate," he said. "Perhaps this is its real purpose. It certainly would seem that way..."
Axel stepped up and held out his hand for the crossbow. Melchiah gave it to him and he weighed it in his hand, cranked back the wire, and looked doubtfully at his men.
"It doesn't matter if they can't load it. You will not get more than one shot each, in any case," Melchiah told him, solemnly. "I have ten of these bows. And twelve dozen bolts, but you will not have use for that many. If the first volley is not enough, you won't have time for a second, and even if you had, it wouldn't help you."
Axel nodded grimly.
"Come with me to my library," Melchiah said. "There is one other thing I can help you with."
...
The library was an enormous room with a domed roof of glass and a wooden floor; the walls were hung with maps and technical drawings of arcane machines. The area at the far end was raised as a platform, and there was a long table there, lit by bright gaslamps. In the lowered centre of the room was a giant machine of dark steel. Its massive, cylindrical body of riveted steel plates was nestled in a mass of pipes, valves and tanks, the whole perched majestically on four broad wagon wheels. A heavy wheel hung suspended above the ground on one side, its rim as broad as a man's head. Although it showed signs of corrosion and decay, it was dust-free and the dark metal tank shone with dull gleam, as if it had been polished. The Razelim circled it curiously.
"It's a steam-engine," Melchiah said in his characteristic slow, emotionless tone.
Adoile reached out to touch it, her fingers stroking the massive bolts and the curve of the tank. She sensed this giant hulk of metal had once housed great power, a power that was now dormant, but not yet dead.
"What does it do?" Jules asked.
"Nothing," Melchiah answered morosely. "Not anymore. It broke a long time ago, and I have not been able to repair it, or to make anything like it. It is an ancient human technology, from before the empire."
Adoile gaped and pulled her hand back. Before the empire... that meant it was over a thousand years old. The time before the empire was a time of legend, a time when the world itself was young, a mythical time. And yet, here was an artifact from that time, as solid and real as she, its very shape suggestive of the power by which it endured the centuries.
"It's an omen," she whispered. The others looked at her, puzzled.
"I've just kept it here because it intrigued me," Melchiah explained. "It was a powerful engine once, but it is useless now."
"Useless, maybe," Adoile said in an awed whisper, "but it is something that came from before the empire, from before Kain. Perhaps it will last until..." She hesitated. The magnitude of what they were planning still daunted her. "'Till after Kain."
The twins nodded, grasping her meaning, and both put a hand on the cold steel of the tank, Hengest his right, Horsa his left. They closed their eyes for a moment, as if in prayer. Cas did the same, and soon Axel's men were gathered around the machine, touching it like a holy relic.
"An omen," Melchiah mused. "Perhaps."
Axel nodded and put his hand on the massive wheel. It turned slightly, and the movement drew forth a wrenching creak that echoed through the room like a dragon's call.
...
Melchiah showed them old design drawings of the sanctuary. The paper was brittle and the drawings damaged, but they still served their purpose. Melchiah explained about the ledge, high above the throneroom, easily wide enough to stand on, or shoot from. It was accessible by a door on the second floor, to which he, as the architect, had the key.
"How will we know he'll be there?" Cas asked, doubtfully.
"Challenge him to meet you there" Melchiah said simply. "He won't say no."
"We're not counting on the surprise element, then," Cas said.
"Kain is a very difficult man to surprise," Melchiah answered with a sense of understatement. "You would do better to count on the element of arrogance." His eyes lit up in a rare moment of amusement. "He does not believe he can die, especially not at the hands of a few upstart fledglings. Therefore, he will face you, alone. Send one man in by the front gate, ask for an audience with Kain, and you will not be denied. Challenge him, confront him with his wrongs, distract him, and at the same time, open the door and take up position on the ledge. He will know you're there, but he won't stop you. Then you aim, and shoot him."
"All at once, my Lord?" Jules asked.
Melchiah nodded. "The explosions will strengthen each other. If fire can still kill him, that will."
Axel held up two fingers, and tapped the centre of the throneroom with them.
"Two men," Jules stated. "I agree. One man would be too vulnerable, Kain could kill him in an eyewink."
"It will not take him much longer to kill two," Melchiah warned. "Not with that blade in his hands."
Axel gave him a determined look.
"Two men," Melchiah looked around their group. "That leaves you eight shots." He nodded. "That will suffice."
"How will we know when to open the door, though?" Jules asked. "If we are too early, or too late..."
"Those two can whisper," Melchiah said, waving a hand at the twins. "Put one of them here, the other on the second floor, and..." he halted. The fair one, Hengest, had grabbed hold of the dark twin's arm, and they were staring at him in undivided shock.
"Whisper?" Jules asked. The others looked at Melchiah with a similar lack of understanding.
Melchiah frowned. "Whisper. Communicate silently over great distances." All eyes turned to the twins, who were still staring at Melchiah in horror. "Was this a secret?" he asked kindly.
Hengest shook his head, slowly. Horsa stared in silence. Melchiah laughed hollowly.
"No, you are certainly not the only ones."
They jumped away from the table as if it had burned them, and huddled together, open-mouthed.
"Did anyone know about this?" Jules asked quietly.
"I heard they shared the same thoughts..." Adoile answered. "I thought it was because they were twins."
Hengest and Horsa nodded fervently, seemingly unable to speak.
"Don't be foolish," Melchiah said. "This is a gift from Kain, like any other. It's just not very common. A few of my clan have it, Zephon and a few of his. And Kain, of course."
"You can talk to Kain, from here?" Jules asked, incredulous.
"I could. If he ever answered," Melchiah replied bitterly. He looked over at the twins, who seemed to be having an animated, though silent, argument. "I'm afraid one of you will have to volunteer. This plan does not work without the advantage the whisper will give you."
They shook their heads resolutely. "We fight together," Hengest said.
"We die together," Horsa added.
"Don't worry, you probably will," Melchiah said darkly. He turned back to Axel. "Don't think you'll be out of his reach on that ledge. Kain can easily pull you down, or come up there himself. But if you can get those shots off before he realises what it is you're carrying... There is a chance."
"He will know though, surely?" Kainsken asked. "Kain knows all."
Melchiah shook his head. "Not all. Much, but not all. If he knew about the flashbolts, he would have asked me to destroy them, like he asked me to destroy the flamethrowers and the water cannon."
"Water cannon?"
"Thank the stars Zephon didn't know about that one," Melchiah said with a humourless smile. "Had he managed to steal those designs as well, clan Turel would have been in dire straits indeed."
A silence drifted down. The mention of Turel and Zephon reminded them of problems other than their own. Melchiah glanced at the twins, who were locked in a still embrace. Axel looked around the table, met by fearful eyes and drawn faces. It was easier to be heroic if you didn't have to think about the consequences.
"Who will accompany me?" a soft voice asked. It was Hengest, the white-haired twin, now stood slightly in front of his brother. Their faces were utterly blank, their eyes empty, as if their shared soul had already departed.
"I will," Kainsken said, before he'd had time to think about it. He knew he was volunteering for a martyr's role, but no part of him seemed to hesitate. "I'd be a liability trying to shoulder one of those crossbows, anyway," he said by way of explanation. Axel gave him a nod of respect, Cas smiled sadly. Kainsken looked at the steam engine again, that still, iron witness to another age. An age without Kain. Perhaps Nosgoth would know such an era again, perhaps soon. In his heart of hearts, Kainsken felt relieved he would not have to face it himself.
Author's Notes: This chapter has undergone severe changes before its appearance here, and some of what went before will be changed as well. Thanks to my reviewers, you've been very helpful. See, this is why I don't normally publish stuff as I'm writing it: writing is all about rewriting with me. I'm sticking to the questions-gimmick, it's helping me.
Reviewer replies:
Smoke, that was neither pointless nor unhelpful. Thank you. I agree with your analysis of Melchiah's motivations. Cowardice doesn't really come into it. I have come to realise that I have not given him the attention his complex loyalties warrant. There will be more of him in the next chapter.
Tomlette, I understand that you don't want to nitpick at chapter two. Thank you for doing it for this one. I will try to improve wordings in the rewrite. I tend to stay away from parodies. I hear your stuff's very funny, though.
Schuldig, I wasn't aware Ms. Hennig needed foregiveness. I rather think she deserves a cookie. The size of Australia, roughly. Thanks for enjoying this so much. Bit of a weird thing to say, I know, but... it really does help. Do you feel sympathy for the main characters? My boyfriend has a little trouble with this; he thinks they're being stupid. And selfish.
Questions for my Reviewers:
1 - Was this chapter as hard to read as it was to write? (That's a rhetorical one, in case you can't guess.)
2 - Apart from the fact that we all know Kain survives, is it realistic that they think they have a chance?
3 - Is the steam engine cool, or does it seem out of place?
4 - Can you guess what consequences they're thinking of?
Melchiah's lands had once been rich in ore and precious metals. Now, they were broken lands, and barren. Behind the keep there was a broad and shallow gorge that ran on for about a mile, and housed several entrances to the extensive mining tunnels. At one end of this gorge a small group of figures stood looking about uncertainly in the pale light of dusk, listening to the Lord of this wasteland.
"Flash fire oil is no new invention. In the old days, humans used it as a rather effective weapon against our kind." Melchiah had brought a massive crossbow with a double steel bow. He footed it, and turned the crank to draw the wire back. "And the flamethrower that has regained popularity so recently uses the same principles as this. It took me centuries to find a way to purify it, to find the essence of fire within, but the results were worth it. Compared to this, the flamethrower is a crude and ineffective weapon."
The bow cocked, he reached over to a padded box held by one of his children and took out a palm-sized bolt. It was a curious-looking thing, shaped like a long drop of water with an arrow's tailfeathers at the top. "This," he said with a certain kind of reverence, "is a flashbolt." It was a golden orange colour, and the surface looked slick, almost wet. Melchiah put it on the bow's slide and clicked the slide into place.
Some hundred paces away, the Melchahim had set up a corpse dressed in plate armour as a target. The sharp-eyed could see that its right eye was missing, the skin around it carefully cut away. Melchiah raised the giant bow to his shoulder and took aim. "Watch."
There was a loud clack when he pulled the trigger, and the bolt lodged itself in the target. Nothing happened for the shortest moment, then suddenly, the copse was torn apart as manhigh flames burst from the inside and it was enveloped in a ball of fire. The small crowd gasped, and stared at the surrogate warrior as it fell apart into flaming body parts.
"Kain's blood!" Arvin whispered, awed.
Melchiah lowered the weapon and turned to him. He replied, humourlessly, "If you're lucky."
...
"My Lord," Adoile asked, still looking wide-eyed at the inferno a hundred paces away. "Forgive me for asking, but why would you put such time and effort into making a weapon to destroy your own kind?" She looked at him fearfully.
"Your master and I have been allies for a long time, child," Melchiah replied calmly. "But I have never been so foolish as to rely on that alone. My warriors are neither as strong, nor as durable as yours as therefore I've always looked for other ways to gain an advantage. This particular plaything was never meant to see much use, merely to make a point." He looked at the burnt-out wreckage, then back to her. "The Melchahim are not defenseless."
She nodded, her eyes wide with a new kind of respect.
A lone crow circled the barren gorge, eyeing the burnt-out dead man. Melchiah looked up at it pensively. "I never thought..." he mumbled, shaking his head. Then he looked at Axel. "How did you know? I never told Raziel about this."
Axel shook his head and raised his shoulders slightly.
Melchiah sighed. "When coincidence seems too convenient, some would call it fate," he said. "Perhaps this is its real purpose. It certainly would seem that way..."
Axel stepped up and held out his hand for the crossbow. Melchiah gave it to him and he weighed it in his hand, cranked back the wire, and looked doubtfully at his men.
"It doesn't matter if they can't load it. You will not get more than one shot each, in any case," Melchiah told him, solemnly. "I have ten of these bows. And twelve dozen bolts, but you will not have use for that many. If the first volley is not enough, you won't have time for a second, and even if you had, it wouldn't help you."
Axel nodded grimly.
"Come with me to my library," Melchiah said. "There is one other thing I can help you with."
...
The library was an enormous room with a domed roof of glass and a wooden floor; the walls were hung with maps and technical drawings of arcane machines. The area at the far end was raised as a platform, and there was a long table there, lit by bright gaslamps. In the lowered centre of the room was a giant machine of dark steel. Its massive, cylindrical body of riveted steel plates was nestled in a mass of pipes, valves and tanks, the whole perched majestically on four broad wagon wheels. A heavy wheel hung suspended above the ground on one side, its rim as broad as a man's head. Although it showed signs of corrosion and decay, it was dust-free and the dark metal tank shone with dull gleam, as if it had been polished. The Razelim circled it curiously.
"It's a steam-engine," Melchiah said in his characteristic slow, emotionless tone.
Adoile reached out to touch it, her fingers stroking the massive bolts and the curve of the tank. She sensed this giant hulk of metal had once housed great power, a power that was now dormant, but not yet dead.
"What does it do?" Jules asked.
"Nothing," Melchiah answered morosely. "Not anymore. It broke a long time ago, and I have not been able to repair it, or to make anything like it. It is an ancient human technology, from before the empire."
Adoile gaped and pulled her hand back. Before the empire... that meant it was over a thousand years old. The time before the empire was a time of legend, a time when the world itself was young, a mythical time. And yet, here was an artifact from that time, as solid and real as she, its very shape suggestive of the power by which it endured the centuries.
"It's an omen," she whispered. The others looked at her, puzzled.
"I've just kept it here because it intrigued me," Melchiah explained. "It was a powerful engine once, but it is useless now."
"Useless, maybe," Adoile said in an awed whisper, "but it is something that came from before the empire, from before Kain. Perhaps it will last until..." She hesitated. The magnitude of what they were planning still daunted her. "'Till after Kain."
The twins nodded, grasping her meaning, and both put a hand on the cold steel of the tank, Hengest his right, Horsa his left. They closed their eyes for a moment, as if in prayer. Cas did the same, and soon Axel's men were gathered around the machine, touching it like a holy relic.
"An omen," Melchiah mused. "Perhaps."
Axel nodded and put his hand on the massive wheel. It turned slightly, and the movement drew forth a wrenching creak that echoed through the room like a dragon's call.
...
Melchiah showed them old design drawings of the sanctuary. The paper was brittle and the drawings damaged, but they still served their purpose. Melchiah explained about the ledge, high above the throneroom, easily wide enough to stand on, or shoot from. It was accessible by a door on the second floor, to which he, as the architect, had the key.
"How will we know he'll be there?" Cas asked, doubtfully.
"Challenge him to meet you there" Melchiah said simply. "He won't say no."
"We're not counting on the surprise element, then," Cas said.
"Kain is a very difficult man to surprise," Melchiah answered with a sense of understatement. "You would do better to count on the element of arrogance." His eyes lit up in a rare moment of amusement. "He does not believe he can die, especially not at the hands of a few upstart fledglings. Therefore, he will face you, alone. Send one man in by the front gate, ask for an audience with Kain, and you will not be denied. Challenge him, confront him with his wrongs, distract him, and at the same time, open the door and take up position on the ledge. He will know you're there, but he won't stop you. Then you aim, and shoot him."
"All at once, my Lord?" Jules asked.
Melchiah nodded. "The explosions will strengthen each other. If fire can still kill him, that will."
Axel held up two fingers, and tapped the centre of the throneroom with them.
"Two men," Jules stated. "I agree. One man would be too vulnerable, Kain could kill him in an eyewink."
"It will not take him much longer to kill two," Melchiah warned. "Not with that blade in his hands."
Axel gave him a determined look.
"Two men," Melchiah looked around their group. "That leaves you eight shots." He nodded. "That will suffice."
"How will we know when to open the door, though?" Jules asked. "If we are too early, or too late..."
"Those two can whisper," Melchiah said, waving a hand at the twins. "Put one of them here, the other on the second floor, and..." he halted. The fair one, Hengest, had grabbed hold of the dark twin's arm, and they were staring at him in undivided shock.
"Whisper?" Jules asked. The others looked at Melchiah with a similar lack of understanding.
Melchiah frowned. "Whisper. Communicate silently over great distances." All eyes turned to the twins, who were still staring at Melchiah in horror. "Was this a secret?" he asked kindly.
Hengest shook his head, slowly. Horsa stared in silence. Melchiah laughed hollowly.
"No, you are certainly not the only ones."
They jumped away from the table as if it had burned them, and huddled together, open-mouthed.
"Did anyone know about this?" Jules asked quietly.
"I heard they shared the same thoughts..." Adoile answered. "I thought it was because they were twins."
Hengest and Horsa nodded fervently, seemingly unable to speak.
"Don't be foolish," Melchiah said. "This is a gift from Kain, like any other. It's just not very common. A few of my clan have it, Zephon and a few of his. And Kain, of course."
"You can talk to Kain, from here?" Jules asked, incredulous.
"I could. If he ever answered," Melchiah replied bitterly. He looked over at the twins, who seemed to be having an animated, though silent, argument. "I'm afraid one of you will have to volunteer. This plan does not work without the advantage the whisper will give you."
They shook their heads resolutely. "We fight together," Hengest said.
"We die together," Horsa added.
"Don't worry, you probably will," Melchiah said darkly. He turned back to Axel. "Don't think you'll be out of his reach on that ledge. Kain can easily pull you down, or come up there himself. But if you can get those shots off before he realises what it is you're carrying... There is a chance."
"He will know though, surely?" Kainsken asked. "Kain knows all."
Melchiah shook his head. "Not all. Much, but not all. If he knew about the flashbolts, he would have asked me to destroy them, like he asked me to destroy the flamethrowers and the water cannon."
"Water cannon?"
"Thank the stars Zephon didn't know about that one," Melchiah said with a humourless smile. "Had he managed to steal those designs as well, clan Turel would have been in dire straits indeed."
A silence drifted down. The mention of Turel and Zephon reminded them of problems other than their own. Melchiah glanced at the twins, who were locked in a still embrace. Axel looked around the table, met by fearful eyes and drawn faces. It was easier to be heroic if you didn't have to think about the consequences.
"Who will accompany me?" a soft voice asked. It was Hengest, the white-haired twin, now stood slightly in front of his brother. Their faces were utterly blank, their eyes empty, as if their shared soul had already departed.
"I will," Kainsken said, before he'd had time to think about it. He knew he was volunteering for a martyr's role, but no part of him seemed to hesitate. "I'd be a liability trying to shoulder one of those crossbows, anyway," he said by way of explanation. Axel gave him a nod of respect, Cas smiled sadly. Kainsken looked at the steam engine again, that still, iron witness to another age. An age without Kain. Perhaps Nosgoth would know such an era again, perhaps soon. In his heart of hearts, Kainsken felt relieved he would not have to face it himself.
Author's Notes: This chapter has undergone severe changes before its appearance here, and some of what went before will be changed as well. Thanks to my reviewers, you've been very helpful. See, this is why I don't normally publish stuff as I'm writing it: writing is all about rewriting with me. I'm sticking to the questions-gimmick, it's helping me.
Reviewer replies:
Smoke, that was neither pointless nor unhelpful. Thank you. I agree with your analysis of Melchiah's motivations. Cowardice doesn't really come into it. I have come to realise that I have not given him the attention his complex loyalties warrant. There will be more of him in the next chapter.
Tomlette, I understand that you don't want to nitpick at chapter two. Thank you for doing it for this one. I will try to improve wordings in the rewrite. I tend to stay away from parodies. I hear your stuff's very funny, though.
Schuldig, I wasn't aware Ms. Hennig needed foregiveness. I rather think she deserves a cookie. The size of Australia, roughly. Thanks for enjoying this so much. Bit of a weird thing to say, I know, but... it really does help. Do you feel sympathy for the main characters? My boyfriend has a little trouble with this; he thinks they're being stupid. And selfish.
Questions for my Reviewers:
1 - Was this chapter as hard to read as it was to write? (That's a rhetorical one, in case you can't guess.)
2 - Apart from the fact that we all know Kain survives, is it realistic that they think they have a chance?
3 - Is the steam engine cool, or does it seem out of place?
4 - Can you guess what consequences they're thinking of?