Priscilla drew a small whetstone along the edge of her sword before inspecting the blade. The metal had been honed to a lethal edge, perfect for sliding between the weak points in an opponent's armor and cutting through flesh. She gave the weapon one last pass with the stone, then slid it back into its sheath before setting it down next to her dagger.
The weapons had been with her for a long time, ever since she had become a Peacekeeper within the Sisterhood. They were as close to her as friends, more than that even, for she had depended on them more than anyone else before in her life. That seemed to be changing now, whether intended or not, but there was something to be said for the dependability of cold, hard steel.
Soon, steel may be all that stood between her and completing her goal. Steel and fire.
Outside her tent, the camp had already awakened to prepare for war. She could hear the constant tramp of heavy boots as warriors went this way and that, making their last-minute preparations before the next assault began. Grindstones rang out their rough melody of sharpening blades, and hammers beat out the metal ring of mending armor, all with the constant murmur of rowdy northern voices working themselves into a frenzy of battle lust and violence.
They were excited for the attack, these Vikings. So eager for their chance to die fighting so they could be ushered off to the hall of their pagan gods. Priscilla certainly did not share in their savage thrill, but the plan had been set, and it had to be carried out. Such was her lot in life these days.
"Rather quiet this morning," she said as she picked up her red tunic and slid it over her head, slipping her arms into the sleeves and pulling the rest down her body.
Coal glanced at her from across the tent as he fixed one knee plate around his leg. "Is it? Sounds like an awful lot of commotion out there to me."
Priscilla picked up her leather cuirass next, pulling it on and tying the laces up the front. "No, I meant-" The enraged shouting of Osric Ead cut her off as it echoed once again from the heights of the city, nearly drowning out any other sound near or far. "-that."
Coal stopped with the other knee plate halfway up his leg to hang his head and sigh. "Doesn't that pious bastard ever shut up? Surely the man just needs to relax with a drink from time to time." He finished up with his armor plates and pulled on his boots, all while Osric continued to preach the Pyre's hate from his tower, then got up and began putting on his own red and white tunic over the mail shirt he wore.
They had made it out of the tunnel not long before dawn, hoping to catch a few hours of sleep before the attack began. After moving dirt all through the night, Coal hadn't the strength to make it to his own tent and ended up passing out in hers. Neither of them even bothered to try and sleep on anything comfortable, simply lying down on the ground, already dirty beyond belief after the night's labor underground. When the sun finally began to shine over the horizon, the two of them awoke with just enough time to wash and begin donning their armor. Priscilla felt sluggish and worn out, hardly how she wanted to feel before a battle, but the tunnel was ready whether they were or not.
Sighing to herself, Priscilla pulled on her gloves and clasped her sword belt around her waist, making sure her blades hung from her hips just how she liked them for easy reach. "Things will happen quickly once we get inside the walls," she said.
"I know," Coal replied, pulling one metal pauldron up his arm to his shoulder.
"And once we do, the Pyre will have nowhere to go. They will fight, but everything will be chaos. I have no doubt that Erik will ignore all of it and go straight for the vault."
Coal managed to get the pauldron secure but was fumbling with the ties of the second one. "Is that going to be a problem? I imagine he won't be too happy when he finds out his most coveted prize is missing from the collection."
"No. He will still find it difficult to claim his treasure even after the city has fallen." Stepping over to Coal, she swatted his clumsy hands away and began securing the pauldron herself. "Our focus will be on High Priest Osric and the city commander, Kazamir. If both of them fall into Erik's hands, things will become much more difficult for us to manage."
"Both?" Coal asked, eyeing her sideways. "Why both?"
Priscilla kept her eyes on her work. "Let me worry about that. I just need you to help me make sure that Kazamir and Osric are dead by the end of the battle. Whatever happens, the Vikings cannot have them."
Coal was silent for a moment, glancing out of the tent toward the morning light as Priscilla finished tying the straps of the pauldron to his arm. "We spend all night working together in the dirt to get into a fortress full of insane fire worshipers who want us all dead, and you're still keeping secrets? Somehow I thought we were past that sort of thing."
Checking that the last strap was tight, Priscilla tugged at the pauldron to make sure it wouldn't slip off during the fighting. "Whatever gave you that impression?" she said, glaring up at him at last. "Things are difficult enough with the secrets we are keeping already. Leave this one to me. You know how I feel about liabilities on my missions."
Coal gave her a cold look, then nodded. Satisfied, Priscilla turned and stepped away as he fiddled with the last minor adjustments to his armor.
Picking up her helmet, she turned it over and stared into the dark emptiness within. A sudden hollowness welled in the pit of her stomach, and she was struck by how false her words now seemed after recent days, not when she had openly invited a man's affections just to keep him quiet. Surely, she might have dealt with this problem in a different manner by now.
"Coal?" she asked quietly, back turned to him so she only heard his grunt of acknowledgment in reply. "What should I do about Gunnar?"
It took a moment before he spoke. "What about him?"
For some reason, that remark annoyed her. Asking for guidance was not something she was used to doing, and hearing Coal dance around the question only sparked her ire. "I would ask you not to play coy with me," she hissed. "He is a problem. What he knows could destroy us. You saw me at the Great Forge. You saw I had the knife in my hand." She turned and looked at him fully now, staring him down so that there was no hiding from the matter, though she knew deep down that she was the one afraid. "I should have killed him then. It was a mistake not to."
Coal said nothing at first, letting the hateful words of Osric Ead fill the silence between them before he finally spoke. "I'm very glad you didn't. Trust me when I say this, but killing a man like him would do the world no good at all."
Priscilla laughed. She didn't know why; it wasn't even a particularly happy laugh. She turned away from Coal and scowled, gripping her helmet tight as she felt a wet sting in the corners of her eyes.
"So you are a fool, then, just like him. A true drengr to the end." She sniffed, took a short breath, and slipped her helmet over her head so the world fell into shadow around her. "It needs to happen. Today, during the attack. This plan of attack is borderline insane, even by Viking standards. No one will notice one more corpse added to the pile. Even the brother of a jarl."
The confusion was written clearly on Coal's face. He wasn't even trying to hide it from her, nor was he trying to hide the hurt he felt as well. "But why?"
"Because we have a plan!" she snapped angrily. "Because this is about survival! If we succeed at our mission, if we give Beaufort what they are after, then we can save everyone! Our legion, our people, and ourselves. Gunnar is a Viking. In the end, it will come down between us and them. He is a great warrior, and dealing with him now will benefit us later when the next fight begins."
Outside, the scornful ramblings of the mad priest seemed to match the turmoil raging within Priscilla at that moment, but Coal seemed as calm as ever. "I don't think you actually believe that," he said.
"Do not tell me what I think. What I think is not important."
"That is the Sisterhood talking, and you know it." He took a step closer to her, shaking his head. "Everything they taught you? It isn't as secret as you ladies would like to think. Be cold, be calculating, be ruthless. That's the Peacekeeper way. Survive at all costs, even when you have to kill someone you care about to do it. It's all horseshit."
Priscilla crossed her arms over her chest, not enjoying how deep his last remark cut. It was a good thing that she was wearing her helmet because, at that moment, she couldn't bring herself to look Coal in the eye. "Spare me your noble insights. If I ever wanted guidance on how to best improve my life, I should think to look elsewhere than a man who landed himself in fucking prison."
As usual, whenever her temper was up, the words escaped her before they could be stopped. Coal didn't seem to mind, though.
"You want to know what kind of lessons I learned in prison? Not just that, but being conscripted into the mighty service of the Legion Council?" He gave her a sad smile before he slipped on his own helmet, hiding his handsome features and white scar behind cold metal and the rim of his steel cap. Stepping closer, he took hold of her hood and pulled it over her helmet as if he had done it a hundred times before, then stood with his hands resting on her shoulders. "I learned that life is pretty damn hard to survive all on your own. Thankfully, that's not something either of us has to worry about now."
Priscilla didn't know what to say. In her training, she had been taught to be silent and to listen, for in silence she could find the power to bring down entire armies. Right now, though, she simply listened to the only person who had been through hell with her since the beginning.
"We can't do this on our own," Coal went on. "We can't save our legion without the Northmen fighting at our side. We can't capture this city without Herleif or Gunnar and all the rest. Erik and Ivar, I could do without, but beggars can't be choosers, I suppose. One thing I know for certain, though, we can't do this without each other."
Priscilla remained quiet, feeling an odd sense of unease grip her as the truth of his words became clear. She hadn't felt so admonished since her days training in the Sisterhood of Peace, and that had often come with a swift whipping of the rod as well. "When did it become your job to make the motivational speeches?" she muttered.
"No fucking idea. When I'm told to march, I march, and when I'm told to fight, I fight. When I'm told to sail north across the sea to help out some crazy Peacekeeper in her mad scheme, well, I guess I start to wonder how I ever got myself stuck in such a shit situation. But I know that right now, I am exactly where I need to be."
Priscilla dipped her head for a moment, not knowing what to say. Instead, she put a hand to Coal's arm and squeezed. "I think Gunnar is beginning to grow on me. Just a little," she said tentatively, still unsure about saying such a thing out loud. Still, she couldn't deny there was a small flutter of excitement that ran through her when she did. The feeling was promptly subdued, though, as was her training.
"I've noticed," said Coal, giving her shoulders one last pat before parting. "War makes us do strange and crazy things when we start to think about the end. Not all of it is bad, though." He stepped away and picked up his weapons, slinging the shield over one shoulder and draping his flail over the other. "Now, enough of this sentimental drivel. We have some cultists to surprise."
Priscilla nodded, and Coal led the way out of the tent into the daylight. Before she followed, she put a hand on a pouch on her belt, the one still holding the formulae for the Divine Pyre's weapon, the key to saving herself and her legion. The key to their survival. She wondered briefly, then, what life would be like if she did survive and who she might spend it with. That possibility had never quite entered her mind before.
That was only if she survived, and there would be much more fighting before such an outcome could ever be considered. It seemed she would not be alone in the fight, though, and that was a start. Making sure her weapons were secure on her belt, she walked out after Coal, prepared to join her legion for the day's attack.
It would be nice to silence the insufferable priest once and for all.