Dragonhammer: Volume I (14 page)

I can see Jericho doing the math in his head.  “So you can fight in a month?” he says.

“Well,” he continues, “I could.  But it would hurt and the possibility of it fracturing again, or breaking, is high.  So it will probably be another week or two after that.”

“And you are planning on fighting with us?” says Percival.

“You’re joining too?” I question him, slightly surprised.

“Well, I can’t let you go see the world by yourself, now can I?” he says with a smile.

“Of course,” James answers.  “As soon as I can, I’ll join you.  In fact, if they will let me, I’ll join and follow you guys around for support if that’s okay.  Then fight when I can.”

“I will too,” says Jericho.  “You can’t leave me all alone at home.”

I nod.  “We’ve got each others’ backs, okay?  All four of us.  We’ll all go in, and we’ll all come out.”

They agree.

Two girls passing by notice James’s sling and Jericho’s scars.  One of them raises her eyebrows and the other smiles slightly.  They’re both pretty.

“Where’d you get that?” one of them asks, referring to James’s sling.

He stops.  “Got in a fight with a troll,” he brags.  “Got the best of me, but I was too tough to bring down completely.”

“Only because he was there to drag you out,” mutters Percival, pointing to me.

“You helped,” I defend.

“Yeah.  After you stalled the big brute by knifing him.”

I have nothing to say.  One of the girls giggles and says, “Wow.”  James gives Percival a dirty look.

“What about you?” the other girl asks Jericho.

“Just some battle scars.  I’m not the best swordsman, so he nicked me a few times.”

“Did you get him?” they push.

“Well, I’m standing here now.”  One of the girls giggles and the other looks at me shyly.  I look away, completely uninterested.

“Come on,” Percival says, grabbing Jericho by the collar and pulling him down the street.

We get back to the barracks before it gets dark.

“Come on,” says James as we walk in the door.  “You’ve got to have a little fun.”

Gunther overhears.  “What happened?”

James answers before anyone else can.  “These two girls were flirting with us, but Kadmus and Percival basically told us that we had to focus and leave them.”

Gunther raises an eyebrow at me.  “You know, I did tell you to get a girl.”

“Yeah,” I say.  “I’m not ready for one yet.”

“Fair enough,” he says.  James and Jericho go back to their beds.  Percival stays for another moment before retiring to bed.

“Thanks,” I tell him.

“It’s nothing,” he replies.  “Just tell me if you need something, alright?”

I nod.  “Will do.”

Gunther is still sitting in a chair at the foot of the bed.  Curious, I question, “Will you join with me?”

“No,” he says.  Before I can ask why, he reasons, “I am engaged, Kadmus.  There’s a girl at home waiting for me.  What a pity it would be if I never returned to her.  Our own father is already a casualty, and we can’t lose all the good blacksmiths in the war.”

I acknowledge his reasons.  “I understand,” I say simply.

Nathaniel, his eyes a little puffy and his cheeks flushed red, sits up on the bed next to mine.  “I’ll join,” he says.  Gunther makes to object, but Nathaniel continues, “If Kadmus can, then I can.  Father gave his life for this cause and he told me to keep fighting and do as my heart directed.  Well, right now it’s directing me to fight.  So fight I will.”

I agree silently.  “I will be there with you, Nathaniel.”  He thanks me with a nod and lies back down.

Then I sit down on my bed and pick up my hammer to wait for Jarl Hralfar.

He doesn’t disappoint.  Minutes after sundown he enters the barracks and summons everyone’s attention.  “Soldiers,” he begins.  “Tomorrow morning we leave Kera for Terrace to retake the city.  Make sure you have everything ready to leave tonight, because we will not wait.  Every second we spend here is another second Tygnar spends calling reinforcements or fortifying the walls of our city!  Be sure to let those on the second floor aware.  Get some sleep.  Tomorrow we march.”

He walks a little ways into the room, but the eyes don’t come off of him.  “Go on, then!” he says.  Immediately the men begin to pack and ready themselves for bed.  The room is filled with the usual quiet hubbub.

He makes his way towards me, shaking his head.  I stand to talk with him.

“I’ve talked to the other soldiers,” he says.  “And I’ve set apart a small number of the most elite soldiers to go with you into the tunnels.”

“Good,” I say.  “And a leader as well?”

“Yes.”  I sag in relief until I realize he’s talking about me.

“What?” I object.  “I can’t lead!  I don’t know how to lead a team of oxen let alone men!”

“You’ll learn quickly,” says the Jarl.

“I said I didn’t want to be a captain.”

“You’re not.”  I make to say something else, but he cuts me off.  “Don’t worry.  I’ve appointed someone to help you.  An assistant, if you will.”

“Good.  You know my friends will want to come with me.”

“Do they know the risks?”

“They will.  And they will still want to come.”

“Very well,” he says.  “If it is their wish.”

“Good,” I repeat.

“Get some sleep,” he says, turning away.  “We march for Terrace in the morning.”

March for Terrace

O
nce again, we are walking.  We would use horses, but lack the sufficient numbers as most of them are in the west.  So we are walking.

Each of us wears issued armor:  a shirt of chainmail underneath a steel breastplate, with a plain helmet, greaves, and gauntlets.  Most hold a sword at their waist and a shield on their back.  Jericho carries his hand axe instead of a sword.  I carry only my hammer, and Nathaniel carries his.  Gunther carries a broadsword similar to Father’s.  He agreed that he would fight in the retake of Terrace, but afterward would stay home for his girl.

As I suspected, all six of them wanted to accompany me through the tunnels into the Keep.  I am glad to have their support.

As we leave the city, the girls we had seen the night before wave to us, wishing us luck.  I ignore them, but James and Jericho acknowledge and thank them.

Our first camp is a few hours after we cross Dragongate Bridge.  The waterfall at the back of the Living Vale captures my attention for the entire time it is visible, because I know at the top my fathers lies safe in his grave.  I find myself thankful the Jarl picked such a spot.

It’s at this first spot that the Jarl introduces me to Commander Magnus.

“Commander!” he calls.  Magnus responds and strides to us.  He’s of a slight build and not very tall, wearing decorated steel armor plates all over his body, including a helmet with a purple plume.  The helm covers his face but for the eyes and mouth, showing somewhat larger lips and a slender chin.  A brown cape bearing Gilgal’s insignia billows behind him.  At his waist hangs an enormous broadsword.

“This is Kadmus Armstrong,” says the Jarl, gesturing.  “He’s the young man I’ve been telling you all about.”

He nods, but says nothing.  The Jarl, unperturbed, continues, “Kadmus, this is Commander Genevieve Magnus.”

That’s an odd name,
I think.  Then the commander removes his helmet, and I see that it is most definitely not a ‘
him
.’

Her smooth skin and youthful eyes reveal her as very young.  Her hair is reddish brown and tied back into a ponytail, her face is slender, and her nose is small.

“A pleasure,” she says as she looks me up and down, tucking her helmet under her arm. Her voice is melodious and matches her pretty face.  She holds out her metal-encased hand for me to shake, and I take it.

“The pleasure is mine.”

“I have heard of you,” she says.  “The Jarl has told me all of your incredible feats.  But I will have you know that I am your commander, and I will not take orders from a lucky blacksmith.”

“Of course,” I say with a sarcastic smile.  “May I ask how you became a commander at such a young age and-”

“And as a woman?” she snaps.

“Yes.”  I say it matter-of-factly, like I’m not sorry to bring it up.

“That’s none of your concern,” she says.  “Probably the same way you’re getting up now.”

“So, surviving on luck?” I retaliate.

“No,” she answers.  “Just surviving.”  She turns and walks away.

“She’s a joy,” I mutter sarcastically to the Jarl.

He suppresses a laugh.  “Oh, that’s a word for it!” he manages.

Every night, we train.  Veterans teach and coach newer recruits around campfires.  They’re sparring with sticks or with swords if they’re more careless.  I am challenged a few times, though never by my friends.  I refuse to participate.  I know if I do, I will do much more damage than I mean with my hammer.

So I disappear into the forest.

Why?
the voice inside me burns. 
Why?
  I’m asking myself this for a couple of reasons.  First of all: 
Why did Father have to die!?  What did he do to deserve death?  All he did was love his family and protect them.  Does that mean he had to die?  It’s my fault…

No it’s not,
another part of me says. 
You know it’s not.

But that arrow was aimed at me!

It was his decision to save you.

…Why did I need saving?

Because Tygnar was attacking.  Lucius Swordbreaker ordered that attack that resulted in the death of your father.

I must avenge him.

Secondly, I wonder: 
Why did they attack?  Why is this war happening?  What did we do to offend them, to bring them to war against us?

I cannot answer these questions.  I stop walking, and turn to make sure I can still hear the swords and see the firelight.  Then I begin to train myself.

I take my hammer from my back and look at the head.  Then I swing at the nearest tree.

The impact jars my hand. 
Come on.  You must be stronger than that.
  I swing again, though I’m not sure exactly what my goal is.  As I twirl and smash the bough of a nearby tree, I look again at the head of my hammer.  Then my eyes narrow and I fight.

Every tree becomes a Tygnar soldier, a pawn of Lucius Swordbreaker.  I twist among them, snapping branches, shaving bark.

They are evil,
I reason. 
That’s why.

I fling my hammer around my back, slamming it into a tree on the way around, and use the momentum to crack another bough of the one opposite.  Images of fire and steel are racing around me.  Men dying. 

They desire only power.  They want to destroy all who oppress them.  They want to rule all, own all, destroy all.  How many fathers have died?  How many more will die before the evil conquers or is conquered?

Blind rage boils in my blood.  Despite the anger and adrenaline flowing through me, I find my muscles all to be relaxed.  They must be to wreak destruction upon my enemies.

An involuntary yell escapes my mouth and I smash a tree in two.

It’s a small one; only a few inches in diameter.  Half of it lies, still connected by stringy still-living wood remnants to its other half, reaching to the ground.

As I stare, a voice says behind me, “Kadmus?”  I turn to see the visitor.  It’s Percival, standing only ten feet away.  “You okay?” he says.

I wait a moment, studying the broken tree.  “Yes,” I whisper.  “I’m fine.”

The next day the Vale and its beautiful waterfall go out of sight.  I make a silent promise to my father that I will visit him every time I pass the Vale.  Then I turn forward.  We march for Terrace.

We follow the river north, downriver.  On the fourth day we come to the hidden path in the trees that leads to Fort Greymane.

“Here,” says Jarl Hralfar.  The legion stops.  “This is where we part,” he says to me.  Then he shouts to the soldiers, “Those of you who have been appointed to go with Armstrong and Commander Magnus will travel to the left.  They will lead you.  All others will travel to the right, where we will confront the main gate.”

Some of the soldiers seem confused, but we split the legion successfully.  I and Commander Magnus, along with Percival, Jericho, and Nathaniel, stand at the head of one hundred and fifty men.

“I can’t yet fight,” says James.  “I’ll go with the others to the gate and stay at the back.  I’ll see you in a few days, okay?”

“Yes,” I agree.  “I’ll see you later.”  I shake his good hand, and then he disappears into the thousand men that will travel to the main gate.

Jarl Hralfar walks towards us.  “This is where we part.”

“I will listen for the horn,” I say.  Commander Magnus gives me a dirty look.

“I will watch for the fire,” replies Jarl Hralfar with a slight smile.  “Remember the dove.”  I look back, where a white dove sits unhappily in a medium black cage.

“We will be there,” Magnus butts in.  “We will take the Keep.”

“I trust that you will,” responds the Jarl.  “Remember.  We will attack under cover of night.  I suggest you do the same.  Until then.”  Then he walks away, leading his army further down the main road to the main gate of Terrace.

Magnus looks at me disgustedly.  “I am the commander, not you,” she says.

“The Jarl gave me authority here as well.  My word means just as much as yours.”

“Well the Jarl’s not here, is he?!” she exclaims, gesturing to the mountain pass with her arms.  “You are going to do as I say, when I say to do it.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that,” I mutter.  I was unaware that she could hear.

“What did you say?” she seethes.

I merely look at her mockingly.  She moves to slap me across the face with the back of her hand, but I catch it in an iron grip before it reaches me.  Then I say, “Oh.  We’ll see about that.”

It takes her a couple of tries to wrench her hand from my grip.  I let her get away.  She only gives me a death stare and then shouts to the army, “Move out!”

“You’re a real charmer,” says Jericho quietly.

“Tell that to her,” I reply just as softly.  Percival only chuckles.

She refuses to even look at me for the next two days.

On the third, we approach the location of Fort Greymane.

I approach her.  “It may be swarming with enemy soldiers,” I warn.  “They will have followed us into the tunnels.”

“Do you not think I may have already thought of that?”  She looks at me with contempt.

“And your plan is?” I push.

“Why do you care?  I didn’t think you were going to follow my orders anyway.”

“As true as that is, I still want to know what your plan is so I can explain to the Jarl what exactly was going through your head when you died.”

She rolls her eyes and stares at me like I’m a moron, most likely because she has no comeback.

“We need to be discreet,” I say.  “If they raise the alarm, our cover is blown and the army inside will be expecting us when we try to get inside.”

“So what do you suggest?”

“Exactly what the Jarl said.  Wait for cover of night.  We can try to sneak in and take out the guards before moving in our main force.”

“Or we can wait until night, sneak past the guards, and kill them once we are inside.”

“That’s what I just said.”

“It was my idea.”

I take a deep breath.  “Let’s go with it.”

She smiles in the victory I gave her.  “Good.  We wait until nightfall.”

Then she turns to the army and starts to spread the word.  We wait until nightfall, and then send scouts and wait for the signal to proceed.

I turn to Percival and pretend to wring her neck, breathing deeply.

“You’re doing better than I would,” Jericho says.  “Or James.”

Luckily we don’t have to wait long until nightfall; it’s only about an hour or so.  At that time, Magnus comes to me and says, “I’m moving out with several men.  We’re moving in the trees to the left.  I’ll give you a signal when the Fort is clear.”

I nod.  “Good.”

Then she moves out with her ‘several men.’

We wait, without building fires.  We huddle in blankets and bedrolls, as the high altitude night quickly becomes cold.  Some of us eat a little something.  This may be our last chance before we enter the Keep and begin to battle.

After only a few minutes, Magnus appears out of the darkness bearing a torch.  “The fort is taken,” she says.

The small army rises and we get into view of Fort Greymane.  Torches line its wall, making its entire shape visible in the moonless night.

There is a yell.  Somebody on the wall turns our way.  Then a man only a few rows behind me falls dead.

We panic.  “I thought you said the fort was taken!” I growl angrily.

“It was!”

“With how many men?!”

She doesn’t answer.

“That’s what I thought,” I mutter.  “Ready!” I shout, rallying the forces.  “Form ranks!”  The men form into lines behind me.  “CHARGE!”

Our line has nobody to cut down.  Still we charge, up to the wall of the Fort and into the open archway.  Then there are guards to fight.

I’m the first one in.  I slam one guard across the room and charge further into the Fort, running for the second door on the right.  Nobody stands against the might of my hammer.  Percival, Jericho, Gunther, and Nathaniel stay close behind me.

In the door, I sprint down the stairs and incapacitate the three guards I see within.  Quickly I open the heavy door that leads into the tunnels.  I see no one.

I take a deep breath and close it, shutting myself in the fort.  “Do not let anyone in or out of this door,” I command some of the men that have followed me down.  “No one leaves.  You understand?”

“Yes, sir!” they obey.  Then they make a formation in the center of the room.  One of them hides to the side of the archway that leads back up.  I and my friends dart back up to the battle.

There’s really not much of a battle left.  The last few guards have been killed or disarmed and bound.  I find Magnus in the center entrance room.

“What the dingflies was that about?” I rage.