Chapter 6: Son of Grace

Energy hummed through the council room, and Luxa's heart pounded. Not with fear for herself, though she accepted that her duty to Regalia demanded she live. Rather, she feared for her people. Princess Nike saw the flaw in the Code of Claw, and Gregor's savant of a sister helped the Code team to break that code. But it may have come too late.

Rats poured through the palace. Many hundreds were slain as they swam the river, their best officers died in the Firelands or beyond the fields, and the bulk of Regalia's soldiers stood ready to defend the people indoors.

But it was still gnawers versus humans on foot. The corridors were vast, doors were very few, and rats were swift. Many would die.

And most of the humans in the palace were lightly trained civilians and children.

"Our relatives and the rest of the Code team should be safe," her grandfather said softly, seeing the tension that held her taut. "Safer than we." Boots, Reflex, Hazard, and Nerissa hid in the prophecy room, with its sturdy wooden door and defended by four of York's best soldiers. Lizzie and Min hid in the code room, from which Daedalus could carry them to a nearby window if threatened. Of the Code team, only Heronian sheltered here with the Council. Stacked stone furniture and heavy stone jars barricaded the entrance.

It would be tested soon.

Out in the corridor, howls and screams drew closer.

"They murder families as they come," Luxa said, her throat clenching such that words took all her strength. "We should draw the rats to us."

Solovet turned , her gaze sharp as it locked on Luxa. But she did not denounce the suggestion out of hand. She pondered, briefly but intensely, her jaw set. The council, their servants, and their personal soldiers all stood armed and ready, and the barricade could not be cast aside swiftly.

Perhaps the Solovet of mere weeks ago would have scoffed. But she had worked closely with her new champion, who impressed everyone more and more with each passing day.

"One condition," Solovet declared gravely. "You, my husband and Heronian will leave by the secret exit, guarded by Horatio and Marcus. Do so immediately , without debate, and I will give the order."

Down the hall, a child screamed. A rat snarled, and the scream cut off.

Luxa took Vikus' hand, turned, and ran for the exit. "Fly you high! For Regalia"

The soldiers, servants, and councilmen joined Solovet in replying, "Fly you high!"

The Queen must defend her people. But rarely could so many be defended by just one sword. By command, by choice, by conviction, and by the strength of others, she could save more lives than could a rager on the front line.

And Solovet kept her word.

As Luxa led Heronian out the secret door, with Marcus ahead and Vikus right behind, she heard Solovet shout, "Gnawers! Would-be tyrants of the Underland! The Ironheart is here! Come, and die on my blade!"

Luxa almost reneged on her part of the deal. The rats howled in glee, and if Luxa returned to the chamber she could help them fight.

But no. Rats struck in a hundred different places in the palace. Those behind her might hold out, inflicting grievous losses on overeager rats. But elsewhere, many had none to defend them but neighbors, family, and brave children. Luxa would find a way to help those that needed her even more. Horatio and Marcus were matched in battle by only Perdita and York, and surpassed by only Gregor and Ripred. If Luxa "fled" to a place where many cowered helpless…

The secret door far behind at last closed, muffling the incoming roars. Horatio had delayed longer than Luxa expected, but he could easily catch up. With her supporting the weary Heronian, and Vikus panting just behind, their pace was not swift.

They exited the narrow tunnel in a dim, crowded storage room, and Horatio slid the old, moldy drape over the gap. This room contained no food or living thing, and rats would likely only find it if they first purged the palace of all light not their own. Luxa noticed that Horatio looked grave, almost haunted. It must be especially hard for him to leave his commander in such a dire hour, but his bearing still surprised her.

"Where do we go?" Marcus asked. "This room will only be overlooked if we leave it."

"We keep moving," Luxa said. "Our people and your fellow soldiers will delay and challenge the rats at many points. We may be able to keep our distance by listening carefully." In truth, she sought the opposite. If she heard sounds of great battle, she might allow her group to steer clear. But if at any point she heard only rat laughter and the cries of children, she would dash toward the sound, forcing her two deadly bodyguards to intervene. They would not expect this, not with her at Heronian's side making a show of supporting the injured mouse. If Luxa suddenly broke into a run at a crossroad, even Solovet's elites might take a moment to beat her head start..

They crept through the halls, as quiet as they could manage. Heronian struggled, as the wounds she received in the Firelands still troubled her. But the aging mathematician conserved her strength, eyes closed, focusing on her breathing, matching the pace Vikus set.

Tension pulled Luxa's heart in many directions. Nerissa, Hazard and Boots, guarded by four men Luxa barely knew. Lizzy, fully dependent on Daedelus' hearing and reaction time if they were approached. Howard, in the hospital, along with hundreds of wounded humans, fliers, and nibblers… but Grace was there too. And if Grace was in that hospital, Luxa knew who would already be there to defend it.

Heronian tensed, and slowed. "I smell rats. Close."

"Which way?" Marcus whispered.

"Ahead… but… now I smell much blood."

Screams reached them.

Rat screams.

"The blood is… of rats!"

Echoing shouts and howls became audible. "Traitor! It's the traitor! If we kill him, the battle will be all but won!"

A single laugh, mixing scorn with eagerness, cut through the screams and squeals.

Luxa smiled grimly. "Where Ripred is, we shall be safest, even if every rat in the palace is en route."

Horatio and Marcus had seen the rat fight, but Vikus might well counter Luxa if given a moment to think. She didn't give him that time.

"To safety!" Luxa said eagerly, her plans forming quickly. Heronian sped up to keep pace with her, Marcus stayed in front, sword and dagger ready, and Vikus had to follow. Though holding the rear, Horatio urged Vikus to greater speed, that they might all stay closer together.

The screams grew louder and more fierce, Heronian's nose twitched in disgust, likely from the smell of rat blood, and Luxa's heart pounded more from eagerness than anything else. If Ripred chose to hold a specific spot, he had good reason. And she suspected she could use that.

Sure enough, they rounded a corner, and in the distance they saw the rager to the south. Twenty rats already lay dead or dying, strewn all about him. He stood his ground, spinning, scattering bodies, limbs, tails, and ears in a tornado of fur and showering red. Rats streamed in from east and west.

And between that bloody fight, and the spot where Luxa's group stood, the rooms lining the corridor teamed with packed families.

"We hold here!" Luxa announced, turning to face the way they had come. "The noise will bring more rats, but with Ripred holding the other intersection, we can make a stand!"

"Luxa!" Vikus put a hand on her shoulder. "You must keep your promise to your Bond! You must live if our people are to have hope!"

She turned to him, forced herself to appear calm and collected, and softly answered. "Live I shall. Two men of great prowess and renown stand with me. And we shall not die defending these people. We shall stand with them."

Rats arrived from the north, answering the call to converge on their deadliest foe, believing that to kill him would make all other fighting effortless. But when they saw the Queen, they squealed in delight. Far easier prey, for even greater glory.

They miscalculated.

Shoulder to shoulder, Horatio and Marcus fought as a storm of steel. Stronger than any but York, as skilled as any but Perdita, and with their beloved Queen right behind them, Solovet's handpicked elites struck with fury both icy and blazing. Horatio's unique two-handed falchion clove skulls and hacked deep into flesh. Marcus drove his long dagger through one eye after another, while his serrated sword sent rats away, howling in agony at the ragged depth of their wounds. For ten heartbeats that felt like a lifetime, they beat back the swiftest rats.

Then enough rats arrived for the mob to envelope the two men, getting around them in the wide hall to strike those they defended.

At least, that was what the rats intended.

The people of Regalia lived up to Luxa's faith in them.

Men, women, boys, and even some girls streamed from every room, flocking to the young Queen. A thicket of rusty swords and daggers bristled to meet the gnawer onslaught.

With two of Solovet's champions taking point, blunting the enemy charge, the shouting crowd of citizens stood about their Queen.

Many rats felt rusty steel in that corridor that day. But none would live to tell of it.

With a final, devastating crash, the greater part of the barricade tumbled inwards. Solovet, the council, their guards, and their servants had fought long and fiercely, punishing the gnawers brutally as they tried to squirm and scramble into the council room. But now, Councilman Neria feared this was their end. She was proud of her colleagues, who had fought alongside the others without hesitation. Some were far older than she, and some had not faced battle in decades. But they had led their people tirelessly, and today they deliberately drew gnawer ire to themselves. If they all sold their lives dearly, then perhaps the victorious rats would be too few to discover Luxa's trail, or to murder the families hiding in nearby rooms.

Neria's sword slashed the face of a rat that sprang over the rubble, but it counterattacked with a tail strike to her face. She fell backward, stubbornly keeping a grip on her sword, and her vision spun and flashed from the hit. Elsewhere, her entire family fought in defense of the palace. Her husband Lenwen and forty others were assigned to Perdita's squad, so he might survive this bloodbath. Her older sons Trent and Kleave defended the nursery, which might be far enough off the beaten path to avoid assault. Her youngest, Cleft, was away in the arena, hopefully out of harm's way. And her daughter, Riven, was with her injured bond in the hospital. Perhaps… despite all the carnage and tragedy Regalia would suffer this day… Neria's family might all survive.

Councilmen Varger and Telgeth stood side by side nearby, supported by two loyal servants. Varger's height combined with the length of his slender metal spear let him aggressively impale rats as they swarmed through, while young Telgeth fought with reckless abandon, knowing they all had seconds left at most. Solovet wieldied her sword two-handed, displaying skill earned over a lifetime at war.

But of course, they could not hold against such a flow of murderous rats. Glend, who had guarded Neria for nineteen years, threw himself between her and a massive gray brute with only one eye, driving his dagger into it's neck again and again even after his throat was torn. Tears beginning to flow, Neria stabbed over the man's shoulder, wounding a different rat, but then a heavy impact drove her dying guardian into her, knocking them both to the ground. A tail caught Varger in the side of the head, his spear clattered as he fell, and young Telgeth lost a hand. A rat savaged dear Glend, who still shielded her with his body, and Neria managed to free her dagger and stab around the hero.

The rat roared in rage and reared up. With a contemptuous swipe, it flung Glend aside.

Neria managed to find satisfaction in the sight. Her dagger had blinded an eye.

Her death glared down at her, hateful, and she fixed an image of her family in her mind.

Then one of them filled her vision.

Lenwen's sword plunged into the rat's back, severing its spine, and he swept the blade free in a slash that took off a lashing tail.

Perdita's squad struck the rats like a storm. Three dozen men and women, blood-spattered and grim, striking with brutal fury. The Captain twisted and spun, a veritable shadow of a rager, with her Commander and government facing rats right in front of her.

And the people streamed in behind her. Men, women, and children, their swords and daggers old but still deadly, setting upon the terrified rats that found themselves caught between Solovet's guardian's and Perdita's force. Rarely did rats quail in the face of humans on the ground. Here and now, they died shrieking in the purest terror.

Tears flowing, Neria rose to her knees. Varger was wounded, but not gravely. Telgeth's left arm hung limp, but he lived. Gerin lay dead, savaged almost beyond recognition. Through the surging bodies, hacking blades, and flying blood, she realized that she, Varger, and Telgeth might be all that remained of the Council in this chamber.

But Vikus, their Head, was far from this room by now, guarded by two champions, along with the Queen.

And the Ironheart, might of Regalia, stood unharmed. Along with the five bodyguards and six servants that survived, Solovet raised her dripping sword to salute Captain Perdita.

But Neria didn't get a chance to do the same.

Because her husband enveloped her in a crushing embrace.

Lenwen made no attempt to hide his tears. He spared a sad glance at the ruined body of brave Glend, who had clearly done his duty to the uttermost end of his strength. Then he hugged Neria all the tighter.

This day would cost so much. And bring so many tears.

But it would not be the end of Regalia. And her family… might yet survive.

Grace nearly swooned as her heart sped up far beyond what her doctors would have wanted. Fear spread through the hospital, as many warned that rats were incoming.

After all these months, struggling with the plague, gradually rebuilding her health, and then being stripped of strength yet again by pneumonia, it looked like her end wouldn't come from illness after all.

What kind of world was this? Where an invading force felt free to savage a civilian population, even target the sick?

But at least… if enough of those monsters come here… there will be fewer out there looking for my daughters.

She wished that last thought could have ended with "children," not just "daughters." But her son was not out there, hiding in one of the few places that might be safe.

He was right here. At her side.

"I'll be ok mom," Gregor said. "I love you. I'm here. And I won't let anything happen to you."

Oh how the world had turned upside down. There was no sky, animals spoke, monsters sought human flesh… and her dear baby boy was saying exactly what she should be saying to him. How many times had she told her children she would keep the fears away? But those fears… had never been real monsters.

And for all her strength, love, and fierce drive… she had never resembled what her little boy had become.

Her baby stood tall, confident, in shining black armor, and casually held two glistening blades. She never even allowed him to carry a pocket knife, but here stood a black knight out of legend. His face was the same, young and gentle and full of all the love and respect any mother could ever hope to earn from her firstborn. But his body and bearing were hard.

She hugged him anyway.

He carefully sheathed his dagger and leaned his sword against her bed, so he could gently hug her back. The armor made the embrace anything but comfortable, but he was so very careful not to hurt her. She wanted to say "I love you," but no words came. Here her boy stood, monsters were on their way, sick and injured were all around her, and the world might be ending.

"I promise, Mom. You'll be okay. And there is no way the rats in the palace will kill me. I… I know they can't."

A shout from the main entrance warned that time was short. Gregor tried to break the embrace, but Grace hugged him so tight it hurt. She was so weak, and that armor meant business.

"Dear Grace, your son is needed," Howard said, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Let him be for just a little while, and he will return to you. Many face great fear and danger. Your son gives us hope."

A sob burst from Grace, but she let Howard gently loosen her grip so Gregor could step back. Her boy gave her a warm, kind smile.

Then he took up his sword, drew his dagger, and strode from the room.

Though shaky and sick, Grace staggered to the doorway of her little room.

The main lobby of the hospital had a single entrance, and many had gathered. Head Doctor Twillen stood on the front line of a large group of doctors, nurses, and civilian volunteers. Howard joined her, a sword held expertly in a steady hand.

Behind those caretakers gathered many patients whose health was greater than Grace's own. Humans, bats, and mice, some of whom she knew from her time with the plague, others who were injured in recent violence. She noted a boy Gregor's age in that crowd. She had spoken to him only once, and it added to her pain to see little Renneth holding a dagger, prepared to fight. He was unhurt, but his father's arm had been amputated and his older brother fought an infection. Since neither had the strength to stand, Renneth would fight for them.

But in front of the patients and the doctors stood a line of soldiers. Most had been specifically assigned to guard the hospital, but Grace recognized one who had insisted on being here. The young woman Riven would not leave the hospital, not while her bat, Gaia was here with an injured wing.

My boy has a bat too… I've only spoken with him a few times… If humans and their bats mean so much to each other… maybe I should have…

Her thoughts broke off when the crowd parted… for Gregor. He marched calmly through, past even the line of soldiers, and took his stand alone, ten paces ahead of the rest. "They won't get past us," he said quietly. "Not with so many of you being so brave right now."

Then the crowd closed, and she lost sight of her son.

Without a word, without a thought, Grace forced her back straight, and poured strength into her feeble limbs. She slowly left her room, placing each step carefully, and came to a cart covered in chipped, rusty weapons. She hefted a sword, and though it was lighter than she expected, she could still tell she didn't have the energy to swing it.

Instead, like Doctor Twillen, she took two daggers.

Keeping her breathing steady, placing each step carefully, she joined the many patients behind the medical staff. She still couldn't see her dear boy. Though very tall for his age, the line of soldiers blocked her view.

She came to a stop between young Renneth and Riven's bond, Gaia. Neither looked scared.

Grace… decided she wouldn't be either.

It began.

Howling and shrieking, giant rats poured through the entrance. Some leaped high, making it easy to see them over the crowd. Her weakened heart pounded ferociously at the sight. She had seen many mouse patients, and in their own way the gentle things were scary enough. But there was no comparison here. Her first thought was… bears. For they were easily as large and powerfully built as the mountains of fur and muscle she'd seen at the zoo.

Except… these were worse.

In every… single… way.

So fast it made Grace feel like she was standing in traffic, leaping high enough to brush the ceiling, with deadlier claws than a grizzly, teeth that might as well be knives, and a vicious cruelty that could only come from intelligence.

So many of the horrifying abominations poured into the room, the smallest of them easily twice the weight of the largest man present. There could be no surviving this. Every man, woman, child, bat, and mouse in this hospital would die in seconds.

But the first to die… were rats.

Screams and showers of blood came from beyond the crowd, and many rat voices shouted, "The Warrior! The Warrior is here!"

And the defenders took up the cry as well. "The Warrior! The Warrior! Regalia's Warrior!"

Rats crashed into the line of soldiers, who showed courage and skill Grace could barely believe. Some rats died despite all their size and monstrous strength. But men and women did too, their blood spilling out, their precious lives spent for those behind them.

And as the line of heroes thinned, and medical staff began to fight… Grace saw her son.

Her precious baby boy. Her dear Gregor, who liked science, and jazz music, and playing with his little sisters. Who did the dishes and took care of his grandma and babysat his sisters. Who skipped meals so others could eat more, despite being a growing boy who worked so hard and did so much to keep the family running.

Her baby boy… was a living legend.

He whirled in a continuous spin that made it impossible to track his limbs and blades. Creatures of nightmare swarmed all around him, with perhaps only one in three dashing around to attack everyone else. Weak, weary, and dizzy, Grace couldn't even see his sword and dagger. Gaping wounds appeared on the seething, surging monsters. Limbs spun away. Blood fell like rain. And she couldn't imagine any of it could be Gregor's. Not with how he moved.

It should have been, by far, the most horrible, heartrending, and traumatic moment of Grace's life. It should have shattered her concept of who her little boy was. It should have broken her mind, and left her a gibbering wreck.

It did not.

Through the blood, the horror, the violence… she saw… love.

The hate of a hundred monsters converged on a hospital. A hospital filled with doctors, nurses, and patients, many of whom Grace knew from her months trapped down here. Thinking, talking animals, a thing that should have filled her with wonder. And innocent little Renneth at her side, choosing to stand between his injured family and a wave of death.

Gregor… was their shield.

Gregor… was a wall.

Gregor made exactly the choice Grace would have if a deadly danger came for those she loved.

Except Gregor was nothing like her in what he could do when defending others.

He was a storm. A force of nature. A titan she could not comprehend.

As he spun, almost like a deadly dance, mesmerizing and terrifying, he brought annihilation to those that would kill the innocent. Far more rats targeted him than those that attacked the crowd.

He was a mythical samurai master. A Jedi Knight. Lancelot, Arthur and Gawain all in one.

She'd known her boy was tough, and hard-working, and brave. He was in track, and a great swimmer, and never struggled when helping neighbors move furniture. But… this…

This is what every parent wished they could be... if someone tried to hurt their child.

A bone-crushing collision with a rat sent a dying soldier crashing through the crowd of defenders. The young man skidded to a stop next to Grace, blood pulsing from his throat, but still trying to get back up to fight. Then a young nurse fell screaming, her right arm missing.

Grace tore her eyes away from her baby boy, her son, her wondrous, loving little man.

She would fight too.

As more rats smashed into the crowd, and more heroic soldiers fell, bodies without armor began to tear and break. Howard would have died with Grace watching if not for Riven, who drove her sword through the monster that had opened his left arm. Howard, in turn, used his wounded arm as a shield as he came to Doctor Twillen's rescue, slashing the paw off a rat that bore down on her.

Violence. Brutality. Butchery.

And what any mother would do, if a monster came for her children.

One giant brute smashed through the doctors and nurses, almost but not quite directly toward Grace. It turned its head sideways, aiming for little Renneth.

Vast, dark red wings burst to full extension, crashing into the rat's neck and hurling it aside. Many patients converged on the rat before it could rise, and Gaia drew back her broken wing.

With her senses overwhelmed, her weakened body quivering, Grace didn't even notice the small wounded rat bounding toward her. Doctor Twillen planted a dagger in its side as it passed her, and the monster flinched at the last moment. Instead of savaging Grace with its teeth and claws, it struck her with its shoulder, throwing her to the stone floor. The rat looked into her eyes, smiled in horrible glee, and shouted, "Overlander!"

Then… it died.

Unafraid, unnoticed, Renneth plunged his dagger into its eye with both hands.

And Grace still clutched one of her own daggers.

Adrenaline pumping, determined to be there for her son when this was over, Grace struggled to her feet. Her head pounded, dizziness strove to overwhelm her, her gut churned, and she began to cough. None of it would stop her. A wounded mouse and a teenage girl with a broken arm were both torn apart right in front of her. And she strode forward. Along with many other patients, she stabbed at the rats, again, and again, and again. The old man to her left fell back with a torn throat. At her right, Gaia shrieked in pain as a rat bit deep into the joint of her broken wing. Grace saw the rat's eye, briefly still and inviting. She put her dagger there, just like Renneth had done for her.

The rat died.

And then… there were no more of them.

Blood covered everyone and everything, even the ceiling, and bodies lay in heaps.

But more than half of the fallen… were rats.

Weariness came rushing back, Grace's body remembered its long illness, and she began to waver.

Renneth steadied her.

Riven, one of only three soldiers still standing, rushed to Gaia's side. Perhaps the bat would never fly again. But she would live.

Nearly half of the doctors and nurses lay dead, including many Grace personally knew. All who still had the strength immediately began performing triage on the wounded. Despite his wounded arm, Howard assisted Doctor Twillen as she tried to save the life of the young nurse with the missing arm.

Easily a hundred patients had taken a stand. In their weakened state, they should have been slaughtered. But most still lived. Renneth ran deeper into the hospital, spreading the word that the line held, and begging any who had the strength to assist in whatever they could.

But Grace now had her eyes back on one person. To her senses, she looked upon a nightmare, a shining metal figure positively drenched in blood, surrounded by mangled corpses.

Her heart knew better.

Gregor rushed toward her, panting, and stared at the bloody dagger she clutched in both hands. Then he looked into her eyes, and his expression softened. "You fought."

Growing sick, Grace couldn't speak. But she nodded.

Gregor… smiled. "I… I knew you would. You're my mom. Since before I could walk, I knew you'd fight a pack of tigers if they came for any of us."

After a moment of hesitation, she nodded again.

"I don't think they'll try another attack on the hospital. Not after so many of them died so fast. They'll smell rat blood from a mile away, and there's way more of it here than anyone else's. I'll check on the girls."

And just like that, he turned on his heel, and dashed out the door.

Grace stood there, growing more shaky, aware that she was now in the way of doctors and nurses trying to save the wounded.

Accepting that her bond would survive, Riven joined the other two soldiers standing guard at the door. Gaia's wing was a horrible sight, but the big bat still let Grace lean on her other side. Together, they slowly made their way to Grace's room.

"You fought well, Overlander, Mother of Our Light. And you saved my life. Riven will want to thank you when this is over."

Reaching her room, Grace managed to hug Gaia for her help. Leaning on the wall, she reached her bed. She tried to towel off, but accepted the sheets would get stained. She made herself finish eating the meal at her bedside, took her medicine, and drained her glass. She slid into bed, pulled up the covers, and closed her eyes. She focused on the calming breathing exercises Twillen taught her, as the sickness, dizziness, and exhaustion flowed through her.

She needed to take care of herself. She needed to recover.

When this was over, and they all went home, her family would need Grace like never before.

Author's Note:

I originally wrote "To Soften the Heart of Iron" mostly to get some resentment for Solovet out of my system. Her treatment of Gregor in the books is so deeply ungrateful, taking a child who has chosen to die for her world and treating him like a pawn. But TUCfan pointed out that an alternate timeline where Solovet came to love and respect Gregor early in book 5 could have caused huge changes. I knew I couldn't commit to an entire retelling of book 5, so I instead chose to focus on the major moments where the biggest differences would have been made. I hope this didn't result in too disjointed a story. In any case, this isn't the end. The final and biggest divergence is in the finale of this little trilogy. Based on a long, vivid, and complex dream I had, it is entitled "The Warrior Has Been Killed," and is already complete.