Marked for Death

Chapter 39

Kandler stood on his knees and waited to die. He figured it was only a matter of moments before the new Superior gave the order. He wondered if Burch was still alive, and if so, what was keeping him.

“Don’t do it!” Xalt said to the warforged guards standing behind the kneeling prisoners. “I’m warning you.”

Superior stared at Xalt for a moment then threw his head back and let loose a tinny laugh. “I’m impressed, greaser,” he said. “I didn’t think you had that much metal in you.”

“I’d hoped you were better than the last Superior. It seems I was wrong. Your soul is twisted.”

Superior shook his head. “You spent too much time among the breathers,” he said. “They built us, put a sword in our hands, and pushed us out the door to kill. It’s what we were made for. It’s what we’re good at. We have no souls. Soldiers don’t need souls. They just get in the way of what we need to do. Maybe that explains it. You weren’t created to kill. You were built to fix. You’re a patch instead of a blade.”

While Superior ranted on, Kandler looked around for a way out. As he turned his head, the guard behind him slapped him across the face. It felt like getting smacked with the flat of a sword.

Superior didn’t miss a beat. “Maybe your makers gave you a soul,” he said to Xalt. “They wanted you to care about the rest of us. Otherwise, you’d just cower behind a rock while we died, calling for you to help us. I hope that soul rests easy inside of you. The rest of us, we don’t want them. We don’t need them. We just need these trespassers dead.”

“Say what you like, Superior,” Xalt said as he tapped a thick metal finger against its chestplate. “There’s something that moves us more than the magic that first sparked life in our shells. I’ve seen it in every one of us. I’ve even seen it in you. As your ‘greaser’, I see us each at our lowest points, when we need someone. when we’re in pain. I see how the others come by as I work on a fallen friend, wanting to know if there’s a chance. I’ve watched you all grieve at funerals held over our lost compatriots’ graves. I’ve seen souls-in all of us.”

Kandler stared at the artificer. He had never known warforged to be so eloquent. Until now, he’d only met them on the field of battle. There they seemed like nothing more than remorseless killing machines. At the moment, Kandler believed Xalt would be shedding tears if he could.

“Call it what you will,” Xalt continued. “Deny that you even have one. But my soul cries out against this injustice.”

Superior slapped a massive, three-fingered hand over its face and shook its head. “Justice is a breather concept,” he said. “It means nothing in the Mournland.”

“It means nothing to you.”

Superior nodded. “In the end, it’s the same thing. If you have a problem with that, you can take it up with Bastard.”

“I could go straight to the Lord of Blades.”

“Let me know when you do. I’d like to add your head to my collection.” Superior turned to the guards standing over the kneeling prisoners.

“Is there a means of appeal?” Deothen asked.

Superior waved the question off. “Don’t let this greaser give you hope. This is your end.”

“Go ahead and kill us,” Kandler said. He wasn’t sure where he was going with this, but he hoped it would buy him and the knights a bit more time. “You warforged are all cowards. We couldn’t expect a fate better than this.”

Superior folded its arms across its chest. “Cowards? Who attacked us out of nowhere? Who invaded our camp?”

“We came to save our friends.”

“By killing us?”

“You killed Levritt. It seems death is the only thing you understand.”

Superior stood as still as a statue then unfolded its arms. “What would you have me do? Release you so we can slay you in the heat of battle? Would that satisfy your breather sense of justice?”

As Kandler shook his head, an idea blossomed. It was crazy, but he didn’t see how he had anything to lose other than the chance to be the first one executed. “I challenge you to a duel, one on one. If you win, you can do with us as you wish. If I win, you let us go.”

Superior stood stock still again. Kandler was unable to read the creature, no matter how he tried. Then the warforged shook its head at the justicar.

“You must think they made me with half a mind.” Superior looked up at the guards over the prisoners and said. “Kill them.”

“No!” Xalt said.

The guards raised their swords high in the air.

Xalt held out its clenched fist. A wide band of gold shone on its thick, outside finger, a ring forged for a warforged. “Stop!” he said.

Superior scoffed, but the guards stayed frozen with their arms in the air. After a moment, the warforged leader lost his patience.

“What’s going on?” Superior said. “Kill them!” He tried to point at the prisoners, but his hand couldn’t move either.

Xalt walked up to Superior and flicked a finger into the center of the leader’s face. It rang like a muffled bell.

“You!” Superior growled. “What have you done, greaser?”

Xalt turned to the prisoners and gestured for them to rise. Sallah and Brendis looked to Deothen for guidance. Kandler jumped to his feet and helped the old man to stand. The other knights rose, and Sallah freed Brendis from his bonds as Kandler untied Deothen.

“Xalt!” Superior said.

The artificer in the grubby tabard turned back to Superior. “You mean, ‘greaser’?” he said. “You called me that to disparage me. You never thought much of me until something broke on you. Until you needed me.”

“Undo this, Xalt,” Superior said, desperation creeping into its voice. “It’s not too late. I understand your frustration. Put an end to this, and all will be forgiven.”

“I don’t need your forgiveness,” Xalt said. “I wanted respect, from you and the others.” He put his hands to the sides of its head. “How I ever expected to get that, I don’t know. That’s how we got into this situation. It’s why you insisted on killing these people. You don’t respect any life but your own!”

“Xalt. I am… I am sorry.”

“You’re a bad liar.” Xalt knelt down and picked up the prisoners’ swords. Deothen’s staff lay among them. The war-forged handed them back to their owners one by one. “You’d better go now,” he told them. “They won’t be frozen for much longer.”

“What did you do to them?” said Kandler.

Xalt chuckled. “A little invention of my own. I worked on everyone in this camp at one point or another. It wasn’t hard to guess that I might want a fail-safe installed on each of them at some point.”

Kandler clapped the warforged on the back. “Smart,” he said.

“Not smart enough!” Superior said. He drew his sword.

Xalt stood stunned, frozen to the spot like most of the other warforged around. “H-how?” he said.

Kandler brought his blade up to parry Superior’s blow, but it wasn’t aimed at him. Instead, it sliced into Xalt’s hand. The thick finger bearing the golden ring tumbled into the dirt.

“You think I didn’t see what you did?” Superior raged at the maimed warforged. “I found what you implanted into me. I removed it weeks ago.”

“But-but…” Xalt stared at its unmoving finger lying on the ground.

“I faked being frozen when you betrayed us,” Superior said. “I wanted to give you a chance to redeem yourself. I believed you were still one of us.”

Kandler spun about, his blade at the ready. The other warforged were no longer frozen. They surrounded him and the knights.

“You made your choice, greaser,” Superior said. “You chose to stand with the breathers. Now you’re going to die with them.”