Kingdom's Fall

Chapter 3, Part 1

The giant Islander was called Ship-Breaker, or at least that was the part that stuck in Aiden's mind when he introduced himself. Islanders collected names like trophies and took great pride in reeling them off. Einar the Fair-Hair, Einar the Strong, the bold-hearted, son of Eirik - Einar the Ship-Breaker was the one that stood out. Aiden wasn't sure how he'd earned it, but since Kingdom ships were the ones that Islanders tended to tangle with, he didn't really want to know. The other Islander was called Siv. Aiden had waited for more, but that was all she offered. He couldn't tell if she was being curt just to get the introductions over with or if she had simply given up her share to Einar, but he didn't press for more. The memory of the rope around his neck was too close for him to start worrying about details. He was alive, and they had helped him. For the moment that was all that mattered.

"How's your voice faring?" Siv tilted her head, peering critically at the rope burn that traversed Aiden's neck.

"Not bad," Aiden said. He could speak but his voice was thick, as though he was about to cough something up. He couldn't imagine anything coughed up after a near-hanging would be good. "I can still talk, if that's what you're asking."

"Good," she said.

The two of them were sitting by the side of a just-lit fire in Garven's inn, a bench pulled over to it so that between the pair of them they could make the most of the warmth. Kara had been all for leaving town - a sentiment that Aiden agreed with - but after a silent conference with Einar, Siv had dismissed their concerns. Garven had fled at the sight of Aiden returning to kill the peace-man. Kara had stared at the swinging door he left in his wake, but showed no inclination to follow him. She got Aiden to help her light the kitchen fire and set to heating enough water to wash the blood off her hands and face. It had barely caught when Einar had come through, chasing her away from the stove to take over the chore himself. Every now and then, he would tread through from the kitchen on eerily silent feet, laden with steaming buckets of water. Every so often, a splash would sound from upstairs.

Siv was watching Aiden, her eyes steel-hard. He could feel her sizing him up, measuring his worth. Without thinking, Aiden realised he was doing the same. Einar put down his mace the moment he got in here, he thought, and yet she's still wearing armour. She wore bracers and greaves, leather turned almost black from the hardening treatment, and she wore mail over her chest, the rings hidden between two layers of cloth. A reaver's armour. It wouldn't stop a musket ball, but it would turn the blast of a hand-cannon loaded with glass and nails. It would turn a ship hand's blade as he fought to stop her boarding. She must be boiling this close to the fire.Her bow and quiver were out of reach, but he could see the hilts of at least two blades in reach. She was older than he'd first thought, with crows feet gathering at the corners of her eyes, and yet she was still lithe and broad-shouldered, strong from pulling oars or a bowstring.

Siv was the one to break their silence. "You still can't remember us, can you?"

"No. You're the ones who rescued me before?"

"Ha!" Her composure lightened a fraction. "Rescued. A good word for it. Maybe you even rescued us, the first time. If you hadn't distracted that..." She paused, searching for a word. "That thing, then we would have been done for."

"Thing? You were being attacked?"

"Not attacked." Siv hitched forward on her seat. "Defeated. I've never seen anything like it. A creature of smoke and darkness." She leaned closer, her voice drawing low. "It was a..." She snapped her fingers and said something in her own language.

"A monster?" Aiden ventured.

"No. More than that. Monsters are born. This was made, brought into the world by men."