Paragon of Destruction

Arran had little difficulty adjusting to life in the mines.

While he missed the freedom to go out and wander around the camp, he was long used to the darkness. And while the cramped tunnels were uncomfortable, a few days of carving through the dense rock provided him with quarters nearly as large as the ones he’d left behind.

Yet although the change of surroundings only briefly interrupted Arran’s training and studies, the troops did not adjust nearly as well.

The oppressive darkness and cramped quarters soon caused a feeling of gloom to descend among the mercenaries. They still performed their tasks without complaint, but when they spoke among themselves, their words carried worry — even fear.

Of course, they’d been told that their predicament would only last a few months. But only few of them failed to realize that the Rangers had no intention of honoring the deal the captain had made.

The only way they could escape the mines was if Captain Kaleesh found a way to set them free. And while they trusted the captain with their lives, the situation was dire enough that some began to doubt whether he could find a way out.

This was especially true for Arran’s group of mercenaries, who’d joined the Wolfsblood Company only months earlier. The captain had earned their trust by successfully defeating the Darian soldiers with minimal losses, but now, Arran could see that trust was slowly being eroded.

Had the captain led them in an attempt to kill the Rangers and win back their freedom, none of them would have questioned the order — even if it would likely have meant their deaths.

But instead, the enemy they were asked to face was despair. And that was a far more terrifying foe than any Ranger could be.

Arran did not fail to notice his troops’ waning spirits, and in an attempt to ease their worries, he joined them in their daily labor, standing at their side as they slowly carved their way through the dense rock.

If nothing else, at least it would show that they were in the situation together — that their commander did not shirk the labor that they all had to perform.

Yet after a few days of this, Ervin approached him just before the day’s shift started, a serious expression on his wrinkled face.

"Stop trying to help," the old man said. "While your intentions are good, it’s not what the men need. Not right now."

Arran frowned. "Shouldn’t the men at least know I’m at their side?"

"No," the man replied curtly. "They have plenty of comrades. What they need is a leader. They need to see that you’re confident in leaving these damned mines. But what you’re doing now — it makes them fear that you’ve given up hope."

Arran remained silent for a moment, then nodded slightly. "I understand."

The truth was that his own faith in the captain was wavering, as well. But for the men to bear the situation, they needed him to be confident. And that required him to show not even the slightest bit of doubt.

He spent some hours contemplating his next move, and when the answer came to him, he was surprised at how obvious it was.

For nearly a week, he worked every waking hour, slowly hewing out a large space at the end of one of the mines’ abandoned tunnels. The work was tedious, not so much because the dense rock was hard to cut — which, to his Living Shadow weapon, it wasn’t — but because he had to ensure the space was stable.

Finally, he completed the work, and he smiled in approval when he saw the fruits of his labor.

Before him lay a wide cavern, nine feet high and nearly a hundred paces across, with numerous rough rock pillars to support the ceiling. It wasn’t a thing of beauty, but for his purposes, it would do.

When his troops’ shift ended that day, he had Ervin gather them up and lead them to the large open space.

As the borderlanders gathered in the torch-lit cavern, they looked around with puzzled faces, curious to see what their commander was planning.

"Everyone! Listen up!" Arran called out. "Once we leave the mines, we’ll see battle again in short order. But you — all of you — have been neglecting your training. No more of that! Starting today, whenever you’re not sleeping or mining, I expect you to here, training and growing stronger!"

The unexpected announcement drew more than a few baffled stares. The borderlanders already spent many hours each day slaving in the mines, and now, their commander was taking away even the rare few hours they had to rest.

Yet before any of them could object, Ervin called out, "You heard the commander! Get to work!"

In the hours that followed, there were many muffled complaints. But although the borderlanders complained to no end, the effect was almost immediate — the feeling of gloom that had taken hold began to melt away in an instant.

If they had to train, then their leader did not expect them to remain in the mines. And occupied with sparring and practice, they had little time to sink into despair.

Arran did not go easy on them, either. Each day, whenever his troops weren’t working in the mines, he had them gather in the cavern, then drove them to exhaustion in training.

Several months passed like this, with Arran dividing every waking moment between his own studies and his troops’ training. And it wasn’t long before the other mercenaries began to make use of the cavern, too.

In the dark depths of the mines, training offered the one thing they all needed — hope. Even if the captain failed to get them out of the mines, their efforts in training would help them take revenge on the Rangers.

Doubtless, the Rangers would have objected to the mercenaries’ training had they known about it.

But neither they nor their soldiers ever ventured into the mines’ lower levels. Instead, they waited for any ore and gems the mercenaries found to be hauled up, then offered insults to those who carried the valuables.

The mercenaries bore the abuse silently, though their eyes showed a murderous fury whenever they returned to the lower levels.

Arran knew that this was something that could not last forever. Even with the distraction of training, the mercenaries’ anger would erupt sooner or later. And when it did, he had no doubt that their revenge would be a bloody one.

But for the time being, the mercenaries still managed to contain their anger, instead channeling their rage into their training.

Then, after four months, Captain Kaleesh summoned his commanders.

There had been little sign of the man since they had entered the mines. While he would occasionally stop by Arran’s training cavern to offer advice and instruction, he’d spent most of his time studying his notes and making new ones. And even when they saw him, he bore a tired expression.

When Arran arrived, he saw that there was a bruise on the captain’s face. Yet despite the bruise, he smiled as he welcomed his commanders, and his eyes held a glint of purpose.

"Today," he began, "marks the end of our five months in Kadun’s service. Earlier this day, I went into the camp and requested that we be released. As I expected, the request was refused."

"Those bastards mean to keep us here?" Gar asked, his expression one of intense anger. "Then I say we kill them all. Even if the Darians come after us, we can fight our way back to the borderlands."

"Not so fast, my impetuous friend," the captain replied. "With the deal broken and the request refused, another option remains."

"What’s that?" Lasha asked, shooting the captain a doubtful look.

"We have the right to petition Lord Kadun to honor the agreement," the captain replied. "And I intend to make use of that right. Arran, you will accompany me."

Lasha scowled. "You don’t seriously expect that to work, do you?"

"Of course I don’t," the captain said. "But while Arran and I travel to Lord Kadun, you and Gar will be in charge of the Wolfsblood Company."

"Me and Gar?" Lasha frowned. "What about Sassun?"

"He has another task," Captain Kaleesh said. "But there’s no need for you to concern yourself with that. Your task is to ensure that, in my absence, our men avoid any conflict with the Rangers."

He cast a sideways glance at Gar, then added, "And your task is to keep your temper in check."

A frown crossed Arran’s face — not just because of the captain’s words, but also because he Sensed that Sassun was carrying a chunk of starmetal ore on him. And he very much doubted that the grave-faced man had suddenly turned to petty thievery.

"So what’s the plan?" Arran asked.

"First," the captain replied, "you will need to leave your weapons behind. The Rangers won’t allow us to travel with them. So put them away somewhere safe. Once you’ve done so, we’ll head outside."

Arran quickly did as the captain said. He returned to his quarters, and produced the starmetal sword he’d won in battle from his void ring, then hid it away. If someone came looking, that would be enough to convince them that he didn’t have the sword with him.

After that, he had his Living Shadow weapon transform into a metal bracelet. By now, it took the weapon barely a second to assume the familiar shape, although he could still feel that it wasn’t particularly enthusiastic about that particular disguise.

When he returned to the captain and the other commanders, he found them already waiting near the shaft that led up to the mines’ upper levels.

But they weren’t the only ones who stood waiting. Surrounding were at least fifty mercenaries — the captain’s own group, Arran knew. And although none of the mercenaries bore weapons, Arran could see eagerness in their eyes.

"Now then," the captain said. "It’s time for us to cause a small disturbance."