Page 24 of Of Empires and Dust

Even King Lakar’s severed head held residence in her thoughts. She’d not known the dwarf long, but he’d not deserved a death like that.

Kira groaned as she arched her spine, agony igniting along her lower back. She lifted her hand, her breath catching as she touched the short tufts of hair at the side of her head.

They’d sliced her long blonde hair with a knife on the first day, taken away the rings of service she’d spent her entire life earning.

Her pride, her honour, her legacy.

That coward Hoffnar hadn’t even had the courage to do it himself. She supposed he’d wanted to disgrace her, to make her a traitor by more than simple words alone. Or perhaps he meant to break her, crush her spirit. If that was his aim, he had clearly never taken the time to truly learn who she was.

She clenched her jaw as she fingered at the remnants of hair that sprouted from her scalp.

Kira let out a short laugh, coughing at the pain. If she ever got out of this place, she would give Hoffnar his own braid and his own ring when she took his head from his shoulders. She would wear his death like a trophy, dye a scarf with his blood, and make a necklace from his bones. She would carve the beard from his face and toss it into the forge fires, watch his rings melt amidst black smoke.

Metal creaked and groaned, Kira’s pulse quickening at the sound of the door’s bolts opening. She pressed herself harder against the cold stone wall, clenching her jaw.

The door swung. Kira hissed, raising a hand to her face as the greenish blue light of Heraya’s Ward sprayed through the passage, blinding in the darkness. Two silhouettes followed,indistinguishable against the light, the sound of armoured boots clinking.

Kira waited for the dwarves to draw close, then hurled herself to her feet, roaring. Pain flared in every muscle, burned in every fibre of her body. She buried it. She would not make this easy for them.

She bunched the fingers of her right hand tight, then struck out at the closest of the two guards. The top of her hand scraped against the bottom of the dwarf’s helmet, stripping skin. But she followed through, her knuckles slamming into his throat.

The dwarf staggered backwards before his companion rammed a heavy steel gauntlet into Kira’s stomach. She doubled over, the blow dragging the air from her lungs and conjuring blood. A second strike crashed into her cheek, steel crunching against bone.

Kira crashed against the wall at her back, her head spinning, stomach turning. Her head pounded like an anvil. With her vision blurred, she caught a flash of motion and threw herself to the side. A violentclangsounded as the dwarf drove his fist into the wall where Kira’s head had been.

Before he could recover, Kira launched herself at him, sliding her fingers into the gap between his collar and helmet and wrapping her hands around his throat. She squeezed, throwing her weight forward, and they fell together.

Kira’s grip loosened as the dwarf smashed into the ground and she fell on top of him, the vibrations jarring her starving body. She squeezed the dwarf’s throat with every ounce of strength she had, losing herself in the effort.

Something stirred deep within her, a primal call, an unyielding urge that lit a fire in her belly. The call of the bersekeer – Hafaesir’s rage in her veins. Finding power deep in her bones, she tightened her grip and lifted the dwarf’s head from the floor before slamming it down as hard as she could.Again and again, she beat the dwarf’s head against the ground until his helmet skittered across the stone.

That same primal call roared in her heart, a fervour consuming her, and she continued to smash the dwarf’s skull against the stone. Cracks and snaps sounded in her ears, but she didn’t stop. Her hands were covered in blood, shards of bone twisted with brains and gore splattering the stone.

When the dwarf’s skull all but crumpled in her hands, Kira fell backwards, her chest heaving. Her heart felt seconds away from breaking through her ribs. She looked about the cell, seeing the other guard still lying on the ground, gasping for air, his hands clasped around his throat.

The flowerlight flooded in through the open doorway, painting the scene in hues of green and blue.

Her eyes landed on the two bearded axes strapped to the hips of the dwarf whose skull was now smeared across the ground. Her body still crying out in agony, she scrambled across the floor and pulled the nearest axe from its loop, then turned and brought the blade down against the chain that connected her to the floor.

Steel clanged against steel, and the axe head skittered. She swung again, arms shaking. The sound of clinking chainmail and hurried footfalls rang through the corridor outside.

She swung again, chipping away at the steel links.

The footfalls were joined by shouts.

“Hafaesir, if you bear any love for me…” Another swing, another clang of steel on steel.

A voice sounded at the door. “What in the…”

Kira didn’t turn to look. She swung again, the fury of the bersekeer rising in her, sweeping through her like a flood. The axe connected with the chains and cleaved the steel link in half, the head jarring off the stone beneath.

Kira scrambled to her knees, the shackle still locked around her ankle. But as she tried to pull herself to a standing position, a weight crashed into her and she lost her grip on the axe. Once more she collapsed to the ground, her head smacking against the stone.

She tried to pull herself up, but a boot connected with her stomach, causing her to curl into a ball and gasp for breath. A second boot slammed into her face, her vision blurring, pain splitting her skull.

“Traitor,” a voice spat.

Fingers grasped the loose, torn tunic at her neck and hauled her upright, before a punch to her gut sent her back to her knees.

---