Garnuk shook off the cold-induced stupor and sluggishly turned back to look at the others. They seemed similarly affected, stumbling unpredictably, reacting slowly to obstacles in their path. Concerned, Garnuk glanced at Tarq. The captain looked back and shook his head ever so slightly.
“They’ll freeze if we are not careful,” he warned, his voice thick and slurred.
Garnuk swore under his breath, and was shocked to find his tongue had difficulty enunciating properly. “Keep an eye out for a cave or other shelter,” he murmured back. “We’ll stop there and warm up.”
“With fire?” Tarq asked.
“Maybe,” Garnuk said, shrugging. “Depends on what we find.”
It was only a few minutes later when Tarq spotted a cave, sheltered among a tumble of boulders, the entrance mostly disguised. The captain pointed it out to Garnuk immediately, and the general led his rams off to the side and directly to the cave, too tired to explain the change of plans. The others followed wordlessly, too exhausted to question him.
Inside, the cave was dry but just as cold as outside. Garnuk looked around and saw it would be a tight fit, even if everyone sat instead of lying down. There would be enough space, but only barely. If the rest of Shadow Squadron were here, they never would have managed.
The Exile dropped his pack at the entrance and ushered the others past him. “Get inside,” he mumbled thickly. “Tarq, find firewood if you can. Take two others.”
Tarq nodded wearily and quickly recruited the two vertaga who seemed least likely to collapse. The others shuffled past Garnuk and into the cave, moving to the back wall and setting their gear down with groans. Garnuk huddled down by the entrance, keeping an eye on Tarq and his two helpers to be sure they made it back all right.
The captain soon returned with an armload of wood, dumping it in a tangled heap in the center of the cave. Two rams moved forward and began stacking the wood more neatly, while a third produced flint and steel to light the fire.
“Move it a little,” Garnuk said suddenly.
They all looked at him, confused.
“To the left,” Garnuk elaborated, “So it’s not directly visible through the cave entrance.”
The fire builders nodded and did as Garnuk had asked, moving the pile slightly, then glancing up to see if the adjustment met with his approval. Garnuk nodded briefly and they proceeded with their task, quickly establishing a small blaze. As the flames began to grow, Tarq returned with his two helpers and several armloads of firewood. The fire builders added some of it immediately, stoking the fire for extra warmth.
Tarq sat down next to Garnuk, not far from the fire. “It’s a good thing we stopped,” he observed, his words slurring slightly. “I’m not sure we would have lasted much longer.”
“It’s strange,” Garnuk replied. “I’ve never had this problem before, even in the worst of winter.”
“You probably haven’t been running through the night for hours when it’s this cold.”
Garnuk shrugged and scooted a little closer to the fire. “Maybe,” he allowed. “I can’t really remember the last few winters in much detail.”
“Nor do I imagine you want to, if it was anything like what I’ve been through the last few years,” Tarq muttered.
The cave was growing noticeably warmer now, and soon the others had stopped shivering and a small amount of alertness returned to them. Some even talked quietly among themselves. Others merely stared into the flames, brooding.
“Sleep if you can,” Garnuk called to them. “We move out again at dawn.”
Several warriors nodded and immediately leaned back against the walls of the cave, eyes closed. Tarq was one of these, and he was asleep in minutes. Garnuk and a few others stayed awake though, tending the fire and keeping their eyes and ears open in case somebody stumbled on Shadow Squadron’s cave. Garnuk kept his sword drawn and ready for use, the bare blade resting across his legs.
Dawn came soon enough, weak gray light filtering through the clouds and into the small cave. Garnuk woke Tarq who in turn woke the others. The warriors ate a cold breakfast of smoked and dried meats, then crept out of the cave one by one. Outside, the air was still cold but it was not as bad as it had been the previous night. Still, after the warmth of the cave, being outside was distinctly uncomfortable.
Despite the cold, or maybe because of it, Shadow Squadron formed up quickly, ready to march. Garnuk counted them all, berating himself for not doing so when they had arrived at the cave last night, and determined he had the right number of warriors. None had been lost in the confusion of the freeze. With a sigh of relief, the Exile turned and began running again, making for Dun Carryl and the nearby peak where they would meet up with the others.
The hours went by slowly, measured by the pounding feet of Shadow Squadron. Garnuk called rests every half hour or so to be sure his troops would be in condition to fight when they finally arrived. But the rests just served to make everyone colder when they stopped moving, and the small column tended to reform after the barest of breaks.
Finally, around midday, the massive, majestic mountain which housed Dun Carryl came into sight. Garnuk slowed the column to a halt without even realizing it, gazing longingly at his old home. The others stepped up beside him, some more nervously than others, to see what once had been.
“We are close,” Tarq murmured from beside Garnuk. “So close. After this battle, we can have our old lives back if we want. The Sthan will be driven out, the Usurper thrown down, turned on by those he commanded because of his failure in this war.” He glanced at Garnuk. “Just as you were.”
“Yes,” Garnuk agreed. “But he will not become an exile with a price on his head. He can remain here as a prisoner, or he can choose death if he wishes. If he should escape . . . I do not think I will hunt him. I’ve been on the other side of such events, as have you, and it is not a pleasant experience. Nobody deserves to live their life in fear.”
Tarq nodded distractedly, then tore his gaze from the mountain stronghold and gestured to a nearby peak. “Is that where we’re supposed to meet Harg and the rest?”
Garnuk glanced up at it and nodded. “Yes.”
“It’s a little exposed.”
“Not from the direction of Dun Carryl,” Garnuk promised. “There is an outcrop that will shield us from eyes in that direction. We can build some small fires for warmth.”
“I thought you said no fires,” Tarq reminded him.
“I did,” Garnuk agreed. “But the weather had other plans, and I’d like to keep our force from freezing.”
“And when the others do get here?” Tarq asked. “What then? What is the plan?”
Garnuk smiled to himself. “You’ll find out when they get here.”
“I should have known,” Tarq murmured with a slight smile of his own.
They stood together in silence for a few more minutes, contemplating the sight of Dun Carryl, then Garnuk tore his gaze away and looked up at their goal.
“Let’s finish this journey,” he said suddenly. “We don’t have time to waste.”
“Right,” Tarq muttered. “Everyone, fall in!”
The warriors formed up reluctantly, with many a backwards look at the stronghold. Garnuk took one last look himself, remembering why this fight was worth it. For his mate and cub, for all vertaga, he would fight. Even if it meant he and his warriors were marching to their deaths.
They climbed the final mountain together, moving carefully, picking their way up the steep slope. They did not stop again, not with the end of the journey so near. In fact, it seemed Garnuk was standing near the top of the mountain in no time at all. Everything was as he remembered it, the view of Dun Carryl, the massive outcrop of rock which mostly hid the camp from view. He even remembered precisely where the lookout ledge was, startling Tarq when he quite suddenly swung out of sight into apparently empty space.
“It’s fine,” he called back to Tarq as he sat down on the narrow ledge. “Have the others start setting up camp,
light some fires. Small ones,” he added quickly.
He heard Tarq grunt and turn away to organize the camp. When he was gone, Garnuk relaxed, leaning back against the stone outcrop and breathing deeply. The cold stung the inside of his nose and lungs, but it also helped to clear his mind, helped him focus on what was ahead. During the final ascent, he had realized what he had to do. There was only one path now that might result in the saving of his people. It was risky, and outrageous, but it was necessary.
From the ledge, Garnuk could see the entirety of Dun Carryl’s western side. He could see the access canyon and part of the lake, could see the front gates of the mountain, and the long spurs that framed the canyon. It was a highly defensible stronghold, with more tunnels and secret entrances than he could count. And, he reflected, probably more than he knew about.
Around the sides of the mountain, Garnuk could just see a tiny portion of the fields which were normally tended by the slaves, the fields where he had sighted his family months earlier. As far as he could tell, no vertaga worked outside of Dun Carryl today. With the enemy so close, they were all likely barricaded inside the mountain.
Garnuk continued sitting on the ledge for several hours, until late in the afternoon when he heard a scrabbling of boots and claws on rock and another vertag swung down onto the lookout ledge easily, sitting beside the Exile.
“Enjoying the view?” Harg asked casually.
Garnuk grinned at him, baring his teeth wolfishly. “It’s impressive,” he said simply.
Harg nodded. “It’s home. Being back in Dun Carryl, walking those halls, it reminds me what we all lost, Garnuk. And it’s difficult.”
“I know,” Garnuk murmured. “But soon, we will return as heroes. Saviors of our people.”
“If we succeed.”
“My plan cannot fail.”
Harg glanced at him, scratching his horns. “You seem confident,” he said at last.
“You think me foolish.”
“No!” Harg said quickly. “It’s just, no plan is completely foolproof.”
“This one is,” the Exile promised. “It puts all of us in a precarious position, and it will require some investigative work on your part.”
“Just tell me what you need, and I’ll do it,” Harg said immediately.
Garnuk chuckled. “Slow down. I’m going to wait for the scouts from the pass to arrive. They should be here by this evening. Then, you will all hear the plan.”
“And not before? Even those of us with larger roles to play?” Harg asked, frowning.
Garnuk nodded curtly and the captain sighed, disappointed. “Then I’ll wait,” he said at last. “But only until tonight. You’ve got us all wondering, general. The others all believe you’re somehow going to make this whole war a success, but none of us can come up with such a plan.”
“That is why I am the general,” Garnuk replied, standing. “Anything new from Ruekig or Gorit?”
“No,” Harg said, shaking his head. “And with the Sthan marching this way, the Usurper has doubled down on hiding in the mountain. I suppose you noticed there is no sign of vertaga anywhere on the slopes?”
“I did.”
Harg grunted. “Well, it means the mountain is full to bursting. If the Sthan breach it, most of our race will be gone. I hope you have a plan.”
“I do.”
“Will I like it?”
Garnuk glared at the grinning captain. “You’ll find out,” he replied before swinging off of the ledge.
The main camp was quickly being set up on the other side of the outcrop. A half dozen small fires were burning in the clearing, and several of the warriors were working on building long, flat walls of vegetation, though Garnuk did not know why. He moved over to where Tarq was standing with a flat pointed rock in his hand, surrounded by others with similar rocks. As the Exile approached, Tarq bent over and drew a long, straight line with his rock. The others grunted in agreement, then stepped forward and began to dig.
“What’s going on?” Garnuk asked as he approached, confused.
Tarq chuckled. “You are back, good. Harg found you?”
“I was never lost.”
“But we could not get to you.”
Garnuk shrugged apologetically. “Sorry. I needed some time to think. What is going on here?”
“Precautions,” Tarq said evasively. “Setting up camp.”
“The fires I understand,” Garnuk said, glancing over his shoulder. “But these mats? What are they for?”
“Not mats, walls,” Tarq explained. “Made to look natural from a distance, like trees and bushes. We will stand them up in the trenches to block eyes and the wind, help our warriors stay secure and warm.”
“Not bad,” Garnuk murmured, kneeling to inspect one of the walls. The wall was composed of fir branches intertwined with each other. The needles were clustered in irregular patterns, and the inside of the wall was backed by canvas. From a distance, it would look just like another part of the snowy mountain landscape, particularly if there was a storm that night.
“Not bad,” Garnuk said again, getting to his feet. “Where did you get the idea?”
“Don’t know,” Tarq admitted. “I just thought that it would be something worth trying. And it keeps the warriors busy, keeps their minds off of what’s coming.”
“Aye,” Garnuk agreed. “That is important. Any sign of the scouts from the pass yet?”
“Not yet. Should be here soon though.”
Behind Tarq, the first part of the trench had been nearly completed. A group of six vertaga heaved one of the walls upright, the canvas side facing inward, and stood the wall in the ditch. Two held the structure upright while the rest packed down the dirt around its base, securing it. Garnuk eyed the structure quickly, then gestured to several leftover branches that were thicker than those used in the wall.
“Use those to prop it up on both sides,” he suggested to Tarq. “Might help keep it from falling down during the night.”
Tarq nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, yes, good idea. Of course, once all of the walls are up they will help stabilize each other. But your idea is good, we will do it.”
The captain moved off to help his workers and Garnuk was left alone in the center of the camp, watching the scene of busy industry. The warriors worked without complaint, happy to be doing something to pass the time. Garnuk watched a few moments longer, then moved over to the ditch digging team and scooped up a rock of his own.
“Need some help?” he asked the warriors.
They looked up at him, surprised, then glanced at each other uncertainly. Then, finally, one of them shrugged.
“We won’t stop you, general. Extra hands are always appreciated.”
Garnuk grunted in acknowledgement and stooped beside them, shoveling dirt aside to continue the trench around the edge of the camp. His team completed a section long enough for a wall, and Tarq immediately filled the space with one of the canvas-backed mats, propping it up as Garnuk had suggested. The diggers continued their quiet, simple industry, moving dirt as though it were the most important and rewarding task in the entire world.
Despite himself, the Exile found that he was enjoying the menial work. There was something simplistic and mindless about it, an experience he usually did not have. He was the thinker, the planner, the one responsible for making sure operations moved smoothly. It was a demanding, complicated role that took every ounce of his creativity and ingenuity. This was far easier, this mindless digging. And while it lasted, Garnuk enjoyed every moment, ignoring his other problems and taking a break from the demands of being a general.
When the ditches were finished and the last of the walls were being slid into place, Garnuk stepped back and surveyed the work. Woven mats stood in trenches all around the campsite, shielding it from the wind and from unwanted visitors. A single, smaller mat stood along one section of the wall, just about the width of a single vertag. This one could be removed easily, and would act as a gate when they needed it too. As Garnuk
was contemplating the afternoon’s efforts, Harg stepped up beside him curiously.
“This is different,” he observed, looking around. “When did this happen?”
“While you kept watch,” Garnuk chuckled.
“Good thing someone was. Otherwise, you wouldn’t know your scouts are on their way.”
“Good,” Garnuk grunted. “Gather everyone together with Tarq tonight. It’s time I revealed my plan to save our people.”
Chapter 54:
The General’s Plan
The scouts arrived within the hour, all twelve of them. They reported the Sthan were only seven days away now, moving slowly but unerringly towards Dun Carryl. Garnuk nodded his thanks for the report, then directed the scouts to join the others around the six fires for the evening meal.
When all had eaten their fill and conversations had died down to occasional low murmurs, Garnuk stood before his warriors. Immediately the camp went silent, and all eyes turned to him. For a long moment, only the crackling fires were heard as Garnuk looked around at his comrades.
“Look around,” he told them. “These next few days were ten years in the making. We all fought together once, for a different cause. We were betrayed. Since then we’ve been driven from our homes, hunted. Some have died who should be here with us. But despite all this, we came together and trusted each other. We joined forces to accomplish something great, something that mattered.”
“We are not here for war,” Garnuk continued. “We are not here for ourselves. Not for vengeance. Those reasons may have driven us initially, but now we fight for one goal: the security of our people. Our families, our clans and tribes. From the far south to Dun Carryl to Banta Kodu. We fight for them all.”
The others growled in agreement, baring their teeth and touching their weapons. Garnuk paused for a moment, then continued.
“You have trusted me as your leader during that time. Accepted my commands, done your best to make the mission a success. I am about to ask you to do something very difficult. Listen well and carefully, and hold your questions until I have finished. Tonight, everything will be made known.”
The Ramshuk (Heirs of Legacy Book 3) Page 54
