by Eric Ugland
“You noticed huh?” I asked with a smile. “I’ll go use the shower now.”
“As you wish, your grace, and might I offer to take your armor off to be repaired?”
“Oh, great idea,” I said.
“My pleasure, your grace,” he said, bowing as he left the bedroom.
I looked around at my new digs. They were definitely the most spacious I’d ever had, at least to myself. There were a few issues I wanted to address at some point — the lack of glass for one. With all the shutters open, the room was cold as fuck. It was basically like being outside, except with bonus wind because of the altitude. I went around and shut all the various windows, though I did take a moment to stand on each of the three balconies. There was something really cool about seeing the river through the canyon below me. The fit and finish of the place was incredible. It really felt like it had been carved out of the rock, which, I suppose, it had. The bed was comfortable — more-so than the ground I’d been sleeping on for the last umpteen nights — and it was kind of nice to lay out some clothes instead of just pulling a random ‘shirt’ from my bag of holding. Which reminded me, I needed to unpack my clothes into the closet. My walk-in closet. Another first for me.
Still, the most impressive thing was the shower. Well, shower was a bit much; it was more like standing under a waterfall. It was above and beyond the most water pressure I’d ever been under, but it did a phenomenal job of getting a body clean. And waking me up. The water was cold, painfully so. And yet, I got used to the temperature, and it started to feel amazing. I felt refreshed like I hadn’t in quite some time. There was even a large bar of soap in its own cubbyhole. I snagged it, gave it a sniff, and it smelled great. It got a great lather up, and I rubbed it all over my body. Spending a little more time in some places than others. With all the blood and guts off me, I was smelling clean, like a tree of some kind. Ready to face the day.
Chapter Eighteen
I finally got to Nikolai in the cantina, where he was eating. Dude had a real breakfast: eggs, sausage, and biscuits. I wasn’t jealous. At all. I sat down and reached over to snag a biscuit. He slammed his fork through my hand and into the table.
“My food,” he hissed.
He wrenched the fork back up, and tossed it to the side, choosing to finish using his hands to eat. Which was more hygienic, I supposed. In a way.
“Fuck Nik,” I said. “That hurt like—”
“Has it healed already?”
I held up my hand and saw my skin knitting itself back together. Always an eerie, if welcome, sight.
“But it still hurt.”
“Toughen up, you baby.”
“Fuck you, man.”
“You were in a fight today.”
“That’s right.”
“And you won?”
“Obviously.”
“How did you win?”
“What do you mean?”
“Did you let your opponent take you down to a single hit-point, then unleash your inhuman strength upon them?”
“That does seem to be my usual strategy, yes.”
“Montana of Coggeshall, you are the greatest fool I have ever met.”
“Go me?”
He slammed his hand flat on the table, and everyone in the cantina looked over at us. Nikolai couldn’t care.
“How many times do I have to tell you it is not something to be proud of?” he yelled. “It is beyond time you learn to fight. With skills and tactics. It is beyond time you learn to use the abilities you have. Abilities I know you have. I have read your character sheet time and time again, and yet I see you using nothing but your regenerative powers and your strength. It will not keep you safe forever. Worse, it will leave your followers vulnerable at the worst time. You will soon realize that others know of your abilities, and they will know how to turn them against you. You cannot continue—”
“I get it,” I said. “I hear you—”
“And yet it is a conversation we have every time you fight. You ask for my advice, I give it to you, and you promptly forget we have ever spoken. Either you commit to bettering yourself under the tutelage of those who know what they are doing, or you release me from your hirð and allow me to leave.”
“What? Come on now — you lose everything if I release you. You’ll be a sneeze away from death.”
“Better to die that way than watch you drag all of these people into a hell of suffering because you cannot be bothered to better yourself.”
That took me back a bit.
“I thought I was doing that,” I said.
“When was the last time you trained?”
“In what?”
“In anything, Montana. Anything.”
“Um, I learned a lot out with the ranger—”
“Were you training? Have you put his lessons into play? Have you worked on tracking or identifying birds or whatever it is you felt you learned in the two days you were out there?”
“No, not yet—”
“Then it was not training. At best, it was learning. And even then, it was learning while someone else was the student.”
“I’ve been kind of busy.”
“Yes. I recognize that fact. And yet, you must make time for training and practice.” He lowered his volume, and leaned across the table. “This world is different than yours. You must continue to improve and you must use the skills, abilities, and whatnot you have gained and been given. Otherwise you die. And since I know you cannot really die, the results will be worse. For you will be reborn elsewhere while all those who chose to follow your banner will perish most horribly.”
He sat back and took a harsh bite of a sausage, his baleful glare never leaving my face for a moment.
“You’re right,” I said. He was. I had asked for his advice, and the advice of others plenty of times, and I’d never really taken any of it to heart. “I’m, I guess, I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do though.”
“I suppose admitting the problem exists is the first step,” he said. “But the hard part is doing the work. As long as the siege is going on, you will be trapped in here. That will give you plenty of time to train. Sword and board comes first. You have skill with the shield now, but you need actual time with it to master the combination.”
“Another thing, though. Not to interrupt where you were going with that, but I got a quest from a god last night.”
“This is not going to be good is it?”
“No. Well,” I paused, trying to think of some way it could be anything other than a gigantic pain in the ass, but, “no. It’s not good. I have been tasked with killing, well, ridding the world of the corrupt ursus. Kill, cure, banish to another realm, whatever the case may be.”
“Did this god give you a number?”
“She gave me a stone,” I pulled out the rock and set it on the table. Nikolai’s eyebrow raised at the glowing edge, but I noticed he didn’t touch it. “And she gave me a bow.”
“Does she know you?”
“We’ve met before—”
“I meant you are uniquely suited to many things, yet archery is not one of them.”
“She was pretty clear in saying, without saying directly, that close combat with the corrupted ones is a bad idea. Also, that our initial encounter may have lead to the spread of the corruption amongst our own people.”
“Did this goddess tell you anything about the nature of the corruption?”
“No. I asked, but she said she couldn’t say. Which is weird, right? Like, why can’t a god say something? Who’s the one that’s keeping the reigns on the gods—”
“Greater Gods. I assume she is not of the Eight?”
“She’s not.”
“Then there are likely many above her in power. And there might be some below her who still might successfully challenge her.”
“The bow she gave me is made out of her bone, or one of her bones. So, I also have to return that when the quest is done or she’ll be, uh, weakened. And I guess easily kille
d.”
“Eventful night.”
“They all seem to be. Also, there’s one of her clerics here now. And someone who’s a LifeWeaver. He used to be a farmer, and he said he’d stay here and farm, teach the others how to farm, that sort of thing. Provided we let him continue his experiments blending nature together next year.”
“And you agreed to this?”
“I did. It seemed prudent. He’s got some ideas on growing food in the mountain. Or under the mountain. However.”
“Back to more pressing matters: Wian sent Alexios out over the wall last night, I expect the ranger to return soon, give us his update on the movements of the ursus. I know they told you they were leaving, but I do not believe for a moment they actually left. At least, not all of them.”
“So, we wait for the ranger to come in from the north. Then what?”
“Weather the attacks from the south.”
“Actual fighting is taking place?”
“According to the scouts we have watching the tunnel, Caticorix’s men are bringing a battering ram up. I have yet to order the murder holes used for anything other than scouting. We may wish to save that trick for a rainier day.”
“I think the gates will stand for a time.”
Nikolai nodded, then said, “The stone will hold. At least long enough for us to ignore them and focus on our other enemy. Our food problem will grow quickly though — that is something we cannot let lay low. This quest of yours—”
“Ours, buddy. You’re in the hirð.”
“I have little time for this quest. Perhaps you have yet to notice, but someone has to run this camp of ours.”
“We are definitely almost a village.”
“Camp, village, town, whatever you want to call it, I am trying to keep this dream of ours alive. That requires I sit and read over papers and make the decisions no one else want to.”
“Bah, stop with the self-pity. Your job is important and cushy. You sit inside, get good food, and don’t have to stop enemy spears with your face.”
“If you would learn proper fighting, you would realize there are better things to use as a shield than your head. Though I doubt there is anything we can do to salvage the damage already done to your face.”
“Yeah, well, you’re an ugly motherfucker, too.”
He smiled, a rare thing from Nikolai these days. Then he shoveled food into his mouth.
“First thing,” he said with a fine spray of eggs, “we get some of our minds together. Every ursus we can save is a potential ally and removes a soldier from our enemy. Curing should be preferable to killing. Since I doubt you have the requisite skills or attributes to assist with finding a cure, you need to train with the bow. Get to the point where that can be your main weapon. I fear it could be more difficult now that you’ve gained some levels and have proficiencies outside of ranged combat. You will undoubtedly have developed bad habits, and I am not sure who we have able to train you adequately in archery. I will speak with Wian, have him talk to the soldiers—”
“Talk to Nathalie,” I interrupted to say. “Have Nathalie speak too Wian.”
“And why is that?”
“We made Nathalie in charge of security—”
“Wian is in charge of the Thingmen.”
“I am in charge of the Thingmen,” I said.
Nikolai smiled again. “A good thing to remember, my lord.”
“I don’t want Nathalie to think she’s being pushed out. We need to rope her into any discussions about soldiers and security. Maybe Wian is in charge of fighting outside the city, soldiers and what not, and Nathalie is in charge of fighting inside the city. Guards and the like.”
“A good idea, my lord. I will initiate those changes if you give me leave.”
“Were you just trying to get me to do that on my own? Was this a lesson?”
“I would never stoop to such deception, my duke.”
“I liked it better when you just threatened me with a naked blade.”
He had a butter knife to my throat in half a heartbeat.
“They are not mutually exclusive,” he said with a sinister smile, “my lord.”
“You think I need an assistant?”
“No.”
“But—”
“No. You need to learn the fine art of the bow. Go find someone to teach you. And stay in range of the gates. I have a feeling fighting will find us today.”
“Joy.”
He just shook his head and focused on finishing his breakfast.
“Last thing: Emeline.”
“I have yet to see her.”
“I’m starting to get worried.”
“She is a capable girl. I am confident she—”
“Maybe in a city. But out here?”
“I will have Wian get all his men looking for her. All the ones not on duty at least.”
“When you find out where her room is, or if you need me,” I summoned a prinky, “send this guy to me.”
“If you have them bring me shiny rocks again—”
“A one-time joke.”
“I believe it has been multiple—”
“It’s been funny every time.”
He glared at me. I smiled, and darted off.
Chapter Nineteen
A shiver jolted through me as I walked outside. It wasn’t bitterly cold, but it was still the type of weather to make you want to stay inside and watch movies. Or play video games. And drink hot cocoa. Instead, I walked along the wall looking for someone carrying a well-worn bow. I’d have preferred to talk to one of the rangers, but I only knew of one, and he was out spying on the ursus.
A young woman with red hair streaming behind her leaned against the battlements. She looked out over the cleared land as the snow struggled to cover the ground. She had a large quiver of arrows on her back, and a second hanging from her belt. A strung bow rested in one hand.
She looked over as I approached, saw who I was, and seemed to relax ever so slightly. Then I think it registered who I was, and she stood up straight and snapped her hand to her chest in salute.
“My lord,” she said, bowing her head. “Do you need something?”
“Are you on duty?” I asked.
“Not officially, no. But, and begging your pardon my lord, there is little for some of us to do here, so I thought I might best serve you and yours by adding my eyes to the wall.”
“If you’ve got time to lean, you’ve got time to clean, right? There must be a way to make that work with guarding, but…” I trailed off, realizing my joke wasn’t even close to landing.
She peered right through me, I think really trying to figure out what I was trying to say.
“You would like me to clean—”
“Let’s pretend that last thing I said never happened,” I said.
“Yes, your grace.”
“I recently, uh, how to explain this. You look like you know about archery — is that true?”
“I am an archer, your grace, yes.”
“Can you teach me how to shoot?”
She looked me up and down and gave the most polite raise of an eyebrow I’ve ever seen.
“I believe you are, perhaps, more suited for other styles of combat.”
“Yeah well, as that may be, I need to learn how to shoot. If you can’t teach—”
“No your grace, I am able to. I, uh, I would be happy to instruct you.”
“Great,” I snapped, “let’s get to work.”
She saluted and turned to lead me away, but then a cry went up from the northern gates.
I looked out across the field to see Alexios the ranger sprinting from the trees. His armor ruined, his clothes torn, blood streaming out of a number of injuries.
A roar came out of the trees, and a flock of birds flew up, startled from their roosts. Ursus streamed out of the woods after the ranger. I’d seen the ursus charge before, and had not exactly been impressed with their speed. I figured a human in reasonable shape could outrun one. But an injured
human running through uneven terrain while exhausted? That made things a bit closer to equal. In this case, the ursus were catching up.
I pushed the archer-lady out of the way, and sprinted along the wall toward the gate.
More of my soldiers ran onto the wall, but even more were at the gate, muscling the doors open and shouting encouragement to Alexios. Soldiers worked to shove a long wooden plank across the open pit, a de facto drawbridge of sorts.
Plenty of the cursed bears were howling behind Alexios. Even though he was well over a hundred yards away, I felt like I could see the whites of his eyes. Fear pumped through the man in an almost palpable way.
I stepped out onto the plank, noticed it was already starting to bend a bit, and looked at the men and women around me.
“Get a stronger bridge,” I snapped, jumping into the hole. I ran across and pulled myself out on the other side.
The guards inside Coggeshall ran around trying to find something to act as a bridge while I pulled the fancy new bow out of my bag.
Looking it over, I could feel a thrum of power pulse from the bone. It felt like it was a living thing, ready to do my bidding, happy to fight for me and Eona. I was eager to use it.
One minor issue.
“Arrows,” I shouted back to the wall. “I need arrows.”
The redheaded archer caught my eye, and though I could tell she was questioning the wisdom of it, she tossed one of her quivers my way. The arrows mostly stayed in, though more than a few scattered around on the ground as I caught the quiver.
I grabbed the first arrow, nocked it onto the string, and pulled back. It was actually a little hard. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that I struggled, but considering I hadn’t really been challenged physically in a while, it was surprising. I had no real idea how or where to aim, so I tried my best to line up the arrow head with where I wanted it to go. Then, I released.
There was an immensely loud crack, and the arrow disappeared. I barely followed where it went, it was nearly impossible to see as it shot over the trees and vanished into the sky. Whatever I’d done, I certainly didn’t hit any of the plentiful targets I’d aimed at. And it was ridiculously loud. Which was ridiculous. Why was the arrow loud? Enough that Alexios hit the deck as the arrow flew overhead, and the ursus did likewise.
