Tanya's Third Life as a Barbarian Queen, Chapter XVIII

I will have the chapter as links to download at the bottom of the post. As well as a link to the Google Document page.

Kontia

Livia, Orcish Salter and Fishmonger. 

The night sky was a murky black owing to the smoke that had been rising from the smouldering city over the past week. Without moon or starlight only flame could cast shadows in the streets of Kontia and there were few brave enough to draw attention to themselves in such a way. 

But here and there lights were cast, chokepoints and vantage points had torches and lamps lit to maintain vigilance in case the Lepus chose to attack. Tired men and women with bows, slings, crossbows or improvised projectiles lay in waiting for an attack. Others carried with them metal pots and pans that they would beat as they shouted to alert the defenders of the frontier city of any danger. 

I huddled close to a smoldering wood burning stove as cold air flowed into the second story Insula from various holes dug into the wall. Korta, Meetra and I had climbed up into the single room apartment via a ladder that we had pulled up with us leaving no other way to get to the room. That had been several days ago, and we had not left since. We had a crossbow and twenty bolts between us as well as some knives but little else. We would have to send someone out soon to bring back more firewood and food.

I glanced back at the pair, bundled up under as many blankets as we could find before turning back to the cold wet street below. We had met when we were picked from a crowd to defend Kontia, any awkwardness or considerations of privacy had been shattered as we all had to live together in a tiny space. We had all managed to get along well enough, considering the situation.

The Tribune had placed us in the apartment due to the commanding view it had over the intersection. If I squinted just right I could see the tired face of a human hugging a bow in an apartment across the street. Eyes glazed as he waited for something to happen.

I turned back to the street as the gentle patter of the rain became more insistent, some raindrops finding gaps in the wall or flying through the hastily made murderholes in the wall. I took a moment to consider the situation before shifting closer to the warmth of the burner and away from the cold winds.

In truth I was glad for the rain, it was a boon from the Gods to smother the fires that had threatened to destroy the city. I had fought against the fires set by the Lepus slaves that had threatened to destroy my shop and my home. I took a moment to check over the crossbow, making sure the ropes were not wet and the bolts were in easy reach before I stuck a hand into my jacket and produced a single hard boiled egg. 

I gently pressed my thumb into the egg, cracking the shell and began to pick off the shards from the hardboiled white. I set a small down a small cup of wine watered down with ashen rainwater to wash down the egg with as I tucked into my morsel of food huddled up to the scant warmth that radiated out from the burner.

From our vantage point we had little to do except wait for any Lepus to make their way down the street. On the first day the three of us had been terrified, constantly waiting for the barbarians to advance into the city. But they never did.

Fear and excitement had given way to boredom and fatigue. Maintaining a constant vigil wore away at our spirits and offered nothing in return. It had become clear that the Lepus had no intention of pushing into the city if they ever had that intention. I could only imagine that they must be enjoying greater wealth than anything they would experience on the step just from the small part of the City they had taken.

I longed to return to work, the pleasant routine of meeting with fishermen and haggling for their catch before taking the goods to my shop to be processed and sold. I missed the quiet days and the repeat customers. I missed the peace of being so far away from the chaos of the heartlands.

I missed my husband telling the same stupid jokes day after day. I missed my daughter prattling on about whatever boy had taken her fancy that week.

I even missed the smell of guts and salt. 

I missed my son most of all, my quiet boy who struggled to open up to anyone, his smile so rare but so brilliant when it did come over his face. I pushed away the pain, willing that I would see him again, that he would come back to me, wiser and richer from the war.

Not for the first time I wondered who the apartment belonged to. Many Insula had rooms built into the outside of the second floor of the block that could only be accessed by ladder. Such properties were often rented out to labourers who would work for the workshops or storefronts on the ground floor of the Insula but this entire part of the city had been quickly abandoned when the walls were taken and the fires broke out.

After we were placed here by the Tribune we found some personal belongings such as copper bands and several knives but the occupant, or occupants I suppose, never returned. I finished off my egg, enjoying how the yoke core was still slightly moist rather than dry before I began to flick the remaining shell though the murderholes on the wall.

I lamented for a moment that one of the few distractions from the tedium of being a lookout was exhausted so soon. Casting my eyes back to the wet road once more as I let out a strangled gasp of fear.

In the darkness, at the edge of the faintly flickering light coming from lanterns lit on the street were a pair of glowing red orbs. Malicious crimson eyes staring out of the darkness right at me. I froze in place, not trusting myself to take so much as a single breath. Until a second pair of eyes seemed to flicker into existence besides the first, and another.

I grabbed at the crossbow and crow's foot, fumbling the device and sending it crashing to the floor as I scrambled in the darkness for the weapon causing Korta to rouse from his sleep, grumbling, as I forced my hands to stop shaking and take hold of the crossbow. I let out a quiet whine as I struggled to affix the crows foot before hooking the crossbow and pulling back the rope as the exertion made my arms burn in protest.

I dared not stop, I dared not speak or delay. Every thought and action was dedicated solely to operating the crossbow, like an oasis in the desert. I clung to the weapon as my mind was tormented by hateful red eyes in the dark. Hungry, vicious, murderous. I let out a victorious, formless, shout of victory as I slipped a bolt home atop the crossbow and shouldered the weapon.

I stared into the inky black where the faint flickering light could not reach and stared, crossbow growing heavy in my hands as I held it in a deathgrip. My eyes began to burn as I held my position, deff to the confused questions from a half awake Korta.

A flicker of deadly red in the dark.

There was a thump as I pressed the trigger and the crossbow jolted in my arms and I held my breath once more. 

I let out a terrified whimper as I heard the bolt clatter against the stone street.

I dove towards the bundle of quarrels screaming as a fist sized hole was punched in the wall behind me, spreading shards of wood and lime and earth into the tiny apartment as I fumbled for another bolt before remembering I had to pull the rope back on the crossbow.

With a thump another hole was blasted into the wall and another. I watched as Korta threw himself to his feet in a panic only to stumble, clutching his head as another hole was punched in the wall. I pulled the ropes back as Korta fell limply to the ground, a pool of pink, bubbling blood soaking into the floorboards as Meetra woke up screaming.

She was staring at Korta’s body as she began to scream out the names of the Gods all the while more holes were punched in the wall. Despite the loaded crossbow I dared not move back to the wall to shoot at the Lepus in the darkness lest I end up like Korta. In a panic I pulled a blanket over myself to prevent more earth and dust from getting into my eyes and pressed myself into a corner of the Apartment.

The strikes against the wall stopped all of a sudden. A strange quiet filling the terrible night as Meetra continued to whine, shifting about and sobbing in fear. Through the thin blanket I could just faintly see the wall, practically destroyed with the amount of holes punched into it alongside the murder holes we had prepared.

I hugged the crossbow close until a shadow passed over the gaps preventing the faint light from the street from reaching into the apartment. I could not move, not even shiver as with a thump a looming shadow slipped into the room with murderous intent. 

Meetra screamed, babbling and hysterical as the shadow moved faster than anything had a right to and fell upon her with a wet crack. Meetra’s screams became piercing, sounding out as I forced my eyes shut and bit back a sob. I did nothing for Meetra but offered a terrified prayer to the gods as her screams became a gurgle and then silence.

I held still, the crossbow was a terrible weight against my side as I tried to keep my eyes shut but my body would not listen. I opened my eyes and peered through the fabric only for my heart to skip a beat as two blood red orbs peered at me through the gloom. I considered the Crossbow at my side but thought better of it and after what felt like an eternity, the shadow’s gaze turned away from me and towards the exit.

Wordlessly the figure hopped out of the room and into the wet streets leaving death in its wake.

I did not move from my position. Not as screams and the beating of bells and pans sounded out across the city. Not as the sound of marching filled the air outside of the apartment. Not as the fire went out and the cold night pressed into the room.

I did not dare to move until darkness gave way to the day and I prayed that it was over.

I begged the Gods to let me live.

But I heard only silence and was beset by the rank smell of death.

------------------------------

Kontia

Godasen Graci, Imperial Senator, General and Master Mage

Pandamonium overtook the City.

While the upper classes of the city calmly organised a withdrawal, rumours began to spread among the plebs, both human and otherwise. This was always going to happen but the speed and insanity of the rumours reflected poorly on the Governour. That he was incapable of maintaining a sense of order as assets and people were withdrawn from the city hinted that his failure to hold the walls was more likely a matter of incompetence than a plot by Leporous hands. 

I watched as the panicked Governour tried to organise a caravan of slaves, constantly listing out orders and considerations to be minded to the poor man who had quite enough to manage already. Still I did not have time to intervene as I stalked out to the street outside of the Governor's palace. 

The crowds were huge with many poorly dressed and tired people milled about without purpose. Questions were asked by confused housewives and pointedly ignored by the few soldiers left to defend the home of the Governour and his family. 

I led a fair sized party of cavalrymen, still not fully recovered from the rapid march south, though the crowd towards the slaves quarter. The area was dominated by tall and poorly constructed Insule. Drains in the street were poorly maintained and filled with compacted filth and the entire area was vastly overcrowded. But here, unlike the rest of the city. There was a sort of order.

We were watched carefully as we entered the quarter and the young men at my back began to look rather worried at the attention, choosing to rest their hands on their weapons as I simply marched through the streets without much concern.

It did not take long for a tall and bulky man to step in front of us with a host of demihuman men behind him. His face was set, allowing no nonsense, the broad shouldered man looked as if joviality was foreign to him.  

“I am Vicco.” He said crossing his thick arms and looking me up and down.

“I don’t care.” I said simply. “I need men with picks and rope, and men to take whatever food they can carry.” He looked taken aback for a moment before collecting himself.

“You will tell me the purpose of this.” He demanded.

“We are leaving the city and destroying the bridge.” I replied without complaint causing muttering to spread among the slaves watching us.

“What is your name?” He inquired carefully, intensity raiding from his tone.

“Graci, I am a Senitour if it matters at the moment. But more importantly, I am the only way you will escape this city and I will see you do not suffer for saving your own lives.” I waited a moment as he regarded me before he turned and nodded to a short and dangerous looking dwarf.

“How much time do we have?” He asked as bells and pots began to clang in the distance and screams could be heard faintly on the wind.

“You have your answer.” I said, looking out at the city as the slaves around us began to quickly disperse. “I will be expecting you at the bridge.” I said at last.

----------------------------

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1WXCTpGK1pfScOrcjC3t3AK7ja6PYjI-7oROY_p8Zz8g/edit?tab=t.0