The Scorpion of Suldaria

The thing about scorpions is they are small, but deadly. Out in the open desert, they can easily be avoided. But if they get inside your tent, your bed, or your boot? They can be absolutely devastating.

The soldiers were restless. They had been walking for days, and had finally made it to the walls of the city in the sand. Their bellies ached. They craved water. And yet, they were restless.

Because they had a mission. To save their kin. Those who had been taken by the monsters. The Gorgun. Vicious animals with sallow grey skin and jaws filled with razor sharp teeth. They walked on two legs, but they were beasts all the same. Two years ago they had started a war with the Kingdom of Valnour, and tried to take the mountain city of Shindala. But they were driven back.

The Gorgun amassed an army and made for Shindala again, and the Kingdom rallied their troops to send them back from whence they came. And so the Kingdom descended into a war with the Gorgun, driving the beasts back from every spire and peak they tried to claim as their own.

But the monsters were cunning, resourceful, and deceptive. And now, two years into the war, they had done something truly unforgivable. They attacked the northern city of Nquthu. It was a trading post, filled with merchants, families, and nothing more. Ill-prepared to repel an attack, the Gorgun easily took the city, and left it in flames. And those they did not kill were taken down the mountain, to their twisted city in the desert, ten leagues east of the mountains—Suldaria.

Meanwhile the bulk of their force was marching on Shindala once again, and the Kingdom could only afford to send a handful of soldiers to rescue the prisoners. So they sent the Ardentian Guard, the best troops in the army. They were battle-hardened and ready, but none had been tested in this way. None had been in Suldaria before. None had seen the inside of a Gorgun city.

A great trench encircled the city a few hundred yards from the wall, leaving a ring of exposed earth between the trench and the walls. The scouts lay on their bellies just outside the trench, looking up at the city. They were Gunter Velkin, Renée Dubois, and Sonia Radovan.

Velkin was a sturdy man, all muscle. He had a fresh cut down his right cheek, which was healing into a rather impressive scar. Dubois was slender, agile, with piercing grey eyes. They say she had elven blood, which would explain her deadly efficiency with a bow. If she had you in her sights, you were dead already. And then there was Radovan. She was a survivor, and had seen more battle and bloodshed than the other two put together. The only thing Velkin trusted more than a sturdy blade in his hand was Radovan by his side. She never failed.

Velkin stared toward the red walls of the city, which sliced up from the ground like the bow of a crimson ship resting on a sea of sand. Beyond the walls, jagged towers and spikes could be seen within the city, rising up towards a citadel, where the tops of green trees glimmered in the afternoon light. Velkin licked his lips, knowing there was fresh water within those walls.

“What do you see?” he whispered, and Radovan narrowed her eyes.

“The walls have been worn by the sand. There should be handholds enough to climb,” she said, and Dubois nodded, peering at a row of spikes moving along the top of the wall.

“Looks like there are soldiers every ten feet. Patrolling,” she murmured, and Velkin sighed.

“You think they’re expecting us?” he asked.

“What does it matter? We have to get in there.”

“Yeah, I suppose.”

Velkin sniffed the air, then scrunched his face.

“What’s that smell? Sonia, did you…”

Radovan looked at him and scoffed, “No! It’s the trench.”

Velkin looked down at the trench and sniffed.

“It smells like…”

“Yeah.” Dubois nodded, “Their toilets must empty out into here.”

“That’s disgusting.” Velkin said, and the others chuckled quietly.

The trio returned to camp and reported what they had seen to their captain, a gruff man named Alvaros. He listened, then made a plan. The company would attack under the cover of night, and scale the wall on the north side of the city. Enough Gorgun had been captured over the course of the war for them to have a rough idea of how the city was laid out, and how the Gorgun operated within it. Suldaria was built in a series of concentric circles, around an inner sanctum where only priests and royalty were permitted to go. Most likely the prisoners would be held in a barracks just north of the sanctum.

The attack would be quick and surgical. Archers would take out the Gorgun guards on the north wall, cutting an opening just wide enough for the troops to sneak in and make directly for the barracks. Keeping to the shadows, the troops would avoid any alarm, taking out only the Gorgun who stood in their path. The barracks itself also had a side entrance, which was used when the guards rotated their shifts. Using the side entrance, the troops could sneak into the barracks, free the prisoners, and bring them out the way they had come, without raising an alarm.

Velkin raised his eyebrows as he listened to the Captain explain the plan. “Okay, so we climb into a vipers nest, get the prisoners and get out,” he whispered to Radovan.

“Without getting bit,” she replied.

Velkin chuckled, “You make it sounds so simple.”

The trio chuckled, and the Captain looked toward them.

“Radovan! You have something to say?”

“No sir! Just ready to get the job done!” Radovan responded. The Captain continued to address the troops, and Radovan elbowed Velkin in the ribs.

They moved out that night, using the cover of darkness to prepare their position north of the city. Keeping low and out of sight the next day, they slept, sharpened blades, and drank the last of their water. After the sun set, they prepared to attack.

Radovan was the first over the trench, keeping low to the dirt and sprinting across the open ground toward the wall. Exposed for a few moments, she reached the wall and slunk back into the shadows. A waxing moon shone down overhead, giving her more than enough light to see, but not enough that she was obvious against the rust-coloured walls of the city. Velkin, Dubois, and the others joined her as she found her first handhold and began to scale the wall—quickly, quietly, carefully.

Alvaros watched the soldiers climb the wall. Like a line of ants moving up the trunk of a tree they ascended, disappearing over the wall one by one. After the last soldier disappeared, the Captain shook his head. “Fortune guide you. Now we wait.”

The minutes slowly dragged by without a sound. The city was quiet. Sleeping. The Captain waited in agony, but he didn’t need to wait long.

Suddenly there was a commotion from behind the walls—shouting, roaring, and the clanging of steel. Alvaros stared at the wall, trying to make out where the sound was coming from.

Suddenly an explosion was heard, and a spout of flame rose up from just inside the walls.

“Dear gods. What is happening?” the Captain whispered as a second explosion was heard, followed by a third. The city was now lit up by the flames from within, and Alvaros stared in disbelief at the flickering light.

A horn blared in the darkness. A call to arms. They had been found out. The Captain watched, helpless as he saw spears and lances moving behind the walls. The Gorgun were rallying.

“We can’t…we can’t-” The Captain shook his head, desperation taking hold. “Get out of there. Get out of there now! Fall back!”

As if on cue, a flickering light appeared atop the wall. It was a soldier, engulfed in flame. Alvaros watched in horror as the man threw himself over the precipice, falling to his death. Another burning soldier appeared and did the same. It was the entire squadron. They were running for their lives, fleeing the devastation within.

One by one the soldiers appeared over the wall, retreating from within the city. Some were on fire, and leapt over the edge. Others scrambled down. But now the Gorgun had them in their sights. Archers on either side fired at the fleeing soldiers, hitting some and chasing the others away.

Alvaros leapt over the trench, running to help his comrades get back to safety.

“This way! To me!” he cried, deflecting the Gorgun arrows as they rained down all around him. The soldiers who were still alive rallied to their Captain, following him back towards the trench, and the safety of the darkness beyond. Velkin was among them, hobbling forward with a Gorgun arrow sticking out of his calf.

The sky was suddenly illuminated as half a dozen flaming arrows were launched into the air, landing in the trench that encircled the city, and Velkin learned the true purpose of the trench, and the sickly liquid that lined it. The moment the flames touched the liquid it was ignited, and the soldiers watched in disbelief as the entire trench was set ablaze, lighting the entire ring of exposed earth between the trench and the walls.

The troops were sitting ducks, and the Captain pointed towards the flames,

“Run! Run! Leap through the flames!”

The soldiers didn’t hesitate. They ran towards the flames, leaping through them to the safety of the desert beyond. Dubois rushed to Velkin’s side, helping him get a running start at the trench, and pushing him as best she could through the roaring flames. She soon joined him, and frantically worked at putting out the fire that had caught on his trousers and boots.

They both looked up, gasping for breath to see only a handful of soldiers who had made it back to safety.

“Report! What happened?” The Captain cried, looking to the survivors, and Velkin shook his head.

“The Gorgun. They were ready for us,” he replied.

“Ready? How?” The Captain asked, and Dubois answered.

“Somehow they knew we were coming. They were ready.”

“The prisoners, are they alive?”

Dubois nodded, “Yes. In the heart of the city, just as we suspected. But guarded by an entire battalion of Gorgun. So many, they…” Dubois’ lip quivered, and Alvaros placed a hand on her shoulder.

“It’s all right, soldier. You’re alive.”

“So many dead. For what? The prisoners are still taken. They are still in there.”

The Captain shook his head, looking back towards the city.

What could they do? The Gorgun had the high ground, had greater numbers, and were on high alert. Even if the soldiers could somehow get into the city, there was no way to rescue the prisoners now without a fight. And Alvaros was not willing to shed more blood needlessly. He stared at the flickering light of the city, his hope dwindling.

Suddenly there was an earth-shattering explosion, and Alvaros gasped as he watched the roof of a great building in the heart of the city blow wide open, sending debris out in every direction.

“What was that?” Velkin said, and the soldiers shook their heads.

“Someone must still be in there,” the Captain replied.

“Yes, but who? The prisoners?” one soldier asked, and Dubois shook her head.

“They were all in chains. It must be one of ours.”

The troops murmured amongst themselves, and realized that there was only one soldier who had still not been accounted for.

“Sonia,” Dubois said, and Velkin nodded.

“She’s a survivor. If anyone could make it out of that mess, it’s her,” Velkin replied.

“Yes, but she’s not out of that mess. She’s still in there,” the Captain said, looking towards the burning heart of the city.

Another massive explosion blew the roof off of a second building, sending more flaming debris into the air.

“What do they have in there?” the Captain asked, and Dubois squinted toward the firelight.

“Warehouses. Filled with that accursed Gorgun blast powder.”

Velkin looked to the wall, “What can we do? Can’t we help her?”

The Captain shook his head, “Not a chance. With this trench lit up, there’s no way we’d make it to the wall. We need to wait here.”

“Wait here? But she needs our help!” Velkin cried, wincing in pain as he tried to stand.

“There’s nothing we can do, soldier! She’s on her own!” the Captain said, and Velkin sat down, looking back toward the burning city. They were helpless.

The soldiers watched in silence as the city continued to burn, and then something strange started to happen. More fires began to appear across the city. First one to the east, then one to the west.

Dubois smiled, “She’s not done in there.”
 “No indeed. What is she doing?” the Captain replied, falling silent as more shouts rang out from within the city, followed by another horn blaring in the darkness.

Velkin smiled, “They don’t know where she is.”

The soldiers leaned forward on bated breath, scanning the city for any sign of their comrade.

“The Guards have been called back!” Dubois cried, pointing to the wall as the Gorgun spears disappeared one by one. She looked to the Captain, “We can go! We can help her!”

The Captain frowned, “Archers could still be hiding in position.”

“I’ll move quickly, they won’t catch me. Captain,” Dubois said, leaning in. “We must try.”

The Captain stared at the city in silence, then nodded. “All right. Every able-bodied soldier, follow me,” he said.

Velkin grunted as he tried to rise, and the Captain put a hand on his soldier.

“You sit this one out, soldier. Hold the fort.”

Velkin sighed, then nodded, watching the Captain lead half a dozen soldiers over the dwindling fire in the trench, back to the wall. Not a single arrow was fired down at the soldiers, and Velkin watched them climb the wall once more, disappearing over the top.

Then all he could do was watch, and wait. Minutes passed into hours, and Velkin waited, wondering if anyone was still alive within the city. Soon the cries of the Gorgun died down, until all that remained was the dull roar of the flames. Of Suldaria slowly burning. A flickering light within the darkness of the desert night.

The flames of the trench had died down now to a few burning embers, and the troops still gazed towards the city. Then a soldier pointed towards the wall.

“Look!” he cried as a figure appeared over the wall.

“Is that one of ours?” a soldier asked, and Velkin shook his head as the figure dropped a rope over the edge of the wall.

“No! It’s a prisoner!” he replied as the figure began to climb down the rope. Another figure appeared at the top, followed by another.

“It’s the prisoners! They’ve saved them! Come on!” Velkin cried, clambering over the trench to help the prisoners. The rest of the soldiers followed Velkin, rushing out into the open to help the prisoners cross to safety.

One by one the prisoners descended, and one by one they were escorted over the trench to safety. The Gorgun didn’t fire down at them from the wall. There were none left. They were all dead, or dealing with the flames in the city.

Dubois, Alvaros, and the rest of the soldiers followed the prisoners down the wall, and as he had helped the last prisoner cross to safety, Velkin looked up at the wall to see a figure silhouetted by the light of the fires within—Sonia Radovan. She had a blade in her hand, dripping with the blood of the Gorgun. The troops fell silent, looking up at Radovan as she raised her blade to the sky. Every soldier with breath still in their body cried out in victory. The prisoners were safe, the mission was accomplished.

The thing about scorpions is they are small, but deadly. Out in the open desert, they can easily be avoided. But if they get inside your tent, your bed, or your boot? They can be absolutely devastating.

Her superiors called her Radovan. Her friends called her Sonia. But those who heard the tale called her by a different name. The name she received as she walked away from the city she put to flames.

This is the first of several short stories set in the world of Alduna, leading up to my fantasy novel Journey to Khaldor, releasing in 2026. Keep an eye out for more tales—this is just the beginning.