by AC Cobble
Rew pressed forward, stabbing and swinging his longsword in narrow strikes, holding his knife close. In such tight quarters, much of his skill was wasted, but on the other hand, every time he attacked, he couldn’t help but find Dark Kind flesh to slide his blade into.
Beside him, the soldiers of Falvar began to advance as well, bolstered by fresh arms and swords. In minutes, they’d pushed the smaller narjags back to the gates. As the line of men narrowed and the flow of Dark Kind was bottled up in the broken-open gate, Rew took a moment to step back behind the line and look up at the walls. There, dozens of archers lined the battlements, frantically firing arrows down between the crenellations. From such a distance, with so many targets, even a child would hit something. Rew knew the archers would be wreaking devastation amongst the Dark Kind.
The sergeant who’d been in charge at the keep stumbled up beside Rew. He’d gained a cut on his scalp since Rew had last seen him, but otherwise looked hale. “Sir,” he breathed, wiping rain and blood from his face, “the archers just called down to me. There’s still one hundred of the bastards outside, but half of them are wounded, and they’re breaking up. They’re falling back, sir. Should we give pursuit and chase them out over the barrowlands?”
Rew looked around. With the narjags outside fleeing, they would have little trouble cleaning up the handful still within the walls of the town. The archers were healthy, and most of the men from the keep appeared to be in good shape, but the men who’d been guarding the gates from the beginning had suffered terribly. Dozens of them were lying dead or wounded on the cobblestone street. The sergeant didn’t know it yet, but another two score of the baron’s soldiers had been torn apart by Alsayer in the throne room. Rew had to assume that the men standing with him were the only soldiers left to defend Falvar.
“No sign of Commander Broyce’s company?” he asked the sergeant.
“None, sir,” replied the man.
Rew shook his head. “We don’t have the men to take the fight out into the barrowlands, Sergeant. We’ve got to tend to Falvar before we go looking for more trouble. The first thing we need to do is get someone to secure this gate, and we need men on these walls, Sergeant. We cannot allow night to fall without every corner of this town… Blessed Mother, has anyone reported on the settlement by the river? Were they hit?”
“I-I don’t know, sir.” stammered the man. “Sir, I’m just a sergeant. Should, ah…”
“Is there anyone here who outranks you, Sergeant?” asked Rew.
The man looked around helplessly.
Rew noticed that several other men had clustered nearby, listening to his instructions. He called to them, “Which sergeant was born in Falvar and has been in the baron’s service the longest?”
They all looked around confused, and the man Rew had been speaking to raised his hand. Despite being draped in chainmail, the crimson blood on his scalp, and the filthy black blood of the narjags on the edge of his broadsword, he had the look of a tradesman rather than a warrior. His eyes looked sharp, though, and he kept his head high. “I suppose that’d be me.”
“Sergeant,” stated Rew, “by my authority as the King’s Ranger, you are now a captain. What’s your name, Captain?”
“Gage, sir, Serg— Captain Gage.”
“Good, Captain Gage,” said Rew. “I want you to assign one sergeant to establish a triage area for the wounded and ensure anyone with skill at healing is brought there. I want another man responsible for carting the wounded to the area, working with the healers to separate the wounded into groups, and collecting whatever supplies they require. Put a third man in charge of the watch and this gate. That man is tasked with gathering whatever soldiers are needed and to conscript from the townspeople if necessary. We must make sure every span of this wall is covered and nothing gets within five hundred paces of Falvar without us seeing it. And finally, a fourth man needs to get out to the settlement by the bridge and bring those people in. Let them take whatever they can, lock down their homes and shops as best they can, but every man, woman, and child should be behind these gates before the sun sets. We don’t want to incite panic amongst the people by dragging them in by force, but those narjags could come back under the cover of night.”
The new captain swallowed and slowly nodded.
“Assign your men now, Captain,” said Rew. “If you don’t have enough sergeants, make some more.”
Captain Gage turned, surveyed his fellows, and began designating roles. Then, he began immediately berating them for not moving quickly enough and called after them as they started to hurry off, collecting their own assistants and issuing the next layer of orders. “Hurry up, now, boys. You heard the man. You’ve got an hour, then, ah, I want a report in an hour, and you’d better tell me you’ve made progress! Go, go!”
The soldiers scurried about, still disorganized and afraid, but men like them required direction, and they were finally getting it. Rew hoped that in a little time, they would fall into their roles and handle them adequately enough.
Captain Gage turned to Rew. “And me, sir, what would you have me do?”
“I want you to oversee these efforts, Captain,” said Rew. “Make sure it’s all done properly. I’m afraid that will mean a long night for you, but first, you’re coming with me to the keep. I may need your help figuring out what the hell just happened.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Rew stopped by the arcanist’s tower first but found Anne and Jon had left. Other than their disappearance, little had changed. There were no new signs of violence, which Rew took to mean that Zaine had found the healer, and they’d determined Jon would be easier to move than the other two.
Captain Gage, following quietly in his wake, gaped like a dying fish at the wreckage in the room. “What—What happened here, sir?”
“Wait until we get to the throne room,” replied Rew.
The newly promoted captain clearly wanted to ask more, but he refrained, and when they got to the throne room, he panted like he was waking from a terrible nightmare. Rew worried for a moment the soldier might be having a heart failure, but after a while, the other man got himself under control.
In the throne room, they found sheets had been hung to give some privacy at the edge of the room, and servants were scurrying in with piles of pillows, pitchers of water, and towels. Jon was slumped in a chair against the opposite wall, where petitioners could sit while awaiting their turn with the baron. The young ranger looked sweaty and in pain. His gaze was locked on the corpses of Baron Fedgley’s soldiers, but when he heard Rew enter, he tried to stand. Rew waved him down and walked over.
“I’ll live,” claimed the junior ranger through gritted teeth.
“Glad to hear it,” said Rew.
“The attack outside of the city?” asked Jon.
“It was a bit ugly, but we’ve chased off the Dark Kind,” responded Rew. “They’re working on securing the walls now. Anne?”
“In with the nobles,” said Jon, gesturing at the shroud across the room. “The staff is checking on me. I’m all right out here if you want to go in. Just need a bit of rest, I think.”
Rew nodded and turned toward the sheets.
“Where’s the baron and—“ Captain Gage cut off as Rew pointed to the immolated body of the baroness. Even without her head, it was clear from her attire who it was. The captain staggered to the side and was violently ill.
“Can we get a sheet over the baroness’ body?” Rew asked a passing servant. To Captain Gage, he said, “Catch up when you can.”
Rew walked to the curtained area and ducked inside. Raif and Cinda were both there, propped up on pillows, their clothing drenched, their hair matted from sweat. Their faces were bright red, and their breathing was heavy, but their eyes were open and turned to him as he entered the enclosed space.
Anne was tending to a small censer which spilled a nearly transparent smoke. She was feeding herbs into it and then waving the smoke toward the two ailing nobles. Noticing him enter, Anne
remarked, “They said Alsayer hit them with some sort of invisible wall. Said it felt like being hit with the real thing. They had severe internal bruising, but luckily, none of their organs were damaged irreparably. I don’t think it would have been fatal, but it would have taken months to recover if I wasn’t here.”
“Sounds about right,” confirmed Rew. “Alsayer used a twist on the sonic lash, I believe. I’ve never seen anything quite like it. He’s more dangerous than I anticipated.”
The ranger left it there and didn’t comment on the destruction laying outside of the curtained alcove. Anne would have seen the scores of dead bodies on her way in. Rew had known Alsayer was a killer, and he’d known the man was treacherous, but he hadn’t taken the time to see what was happening. He should have known that Alsayer was lying, was using them to get access to his target. He should have… He should have what? He’d known Alsayer was a back-stabbing bastard, but even if he’d suspected a betrayal was looming, he never would have guessed what the spellcaster had planned.
“They said this sonic wall struck you as well,” remarked the empath, jolting him from his thoughts.
“It did,” he admitted.
She paused and turned, looking at him over her shoulder.
“I’m fine,” he assured her. “A few scrapes and some bruises that are feeling tight, but nothing worse than I’d get in a normal day’s work.”
Anne frowned at him, disbelieving, but he returned her stare. Snorting, she turned back to her herbs and her censer.
“How?” asked Cinda.
Anne shushed her, but the girl kept talking.
“That wall struck you full on before it hit us. I could see it warping around you,” Cinda said. “He meant it for you, not us, and you took the brunt of it. We were merely caught the wave that broke over you. It still nearly killed us.”
“He meant to slow me down,” acknowledged Rew.
“How did you fight it?” asked Cinda.
Rew frowned, not responding, and when she opened her mouth to ask further, he held up a hand and explained, “There are a few tricks one can do to defend against high magic. Some are simple physical acts like dodging out of the way. Others are similar, like bearing the weight of an attack where you’re most able to absorb it. Taking the blow on your shoulder instead of the face, for example. Then, there are more complicated responses that can diminish the effect of a spell. Cantrips one can whisper, wardings one can maintain, ways to anchor oneself to your surroundings and leverage external strength.”
“Low magic,” gasped Cinda. “You’re saying you used low magic to combat high magic.”
“Aye, I used low magic,” agreed Rew. He gestured to Anne. “Nobles assume high magic is superior, and many times, that’s the case. But not always. Low magic can be just as effective when used in the right circumstances. When someone knows what they’re doing…” He shrugged, hoping he’d given enough to satisfy the girl.
Cinda made as if to speak again, but Anne shushed her. “Girl, you’re right, you nearly died. I know you have questions, but they can wait. High magic, low magic, you’re not doing anything with either one of them before you recover.”
“Our father?” asked Raif, rasping out the question.
Rew winced. “Taken by Alsayer.”
Raif closed his yes.
Cinda whispered, “I saw what happened to mother.”
“There’s nothing anyone can do for her,” said Rew. “I had someone put a sheet over her body. The servants will treat her with respect, and when things settle, you can make arrangements for proper—“
Behind him, the curtains parted, and Captain Gage entered. He gasped at the sight of the younglings and immediately offered a bow.
“Senior Ranger,” asked the captain, “if the baroness was the body out there, then where is the baron?”
“He was betrayed and captured by the spellcaster that came bearing warnings yesterday,” explained Rew. “Captain, Raif here is Baron Fedgley’s heir. For now, he’s in command.”
The captain bowed again, a nervous hand rising inadvertently to tug at the collar of his chainmail. Raif and Cinda stared back at the soldier, lying slumped on their backs on the floor of the throne room, propped against a pile of pillows. It was a pathetic sight, all around.
Raif raised his hand and said, “Ah, Raif Fedgley. Pleased to meet you. I, ah…”
“I’ll retain command for the moment, I suppose,” said Rew, rubbing his hand over his freshly shorn head and looking down at the boy. “Raif, Cinda, this is Captain Gage, newly promoted to the role. He’s the most senior man I can find in your service, and he seems a good sort. I took temporary command of the garrison to fight off the Dark Kind, but as soon as you’re back on your feet and able to shoulder your responsibilities, I’ll happily return command to you, or I can grant the authority to Captain Gage, if you’d prefer.”
Raif stared back like a rabbit surprised by a fox.
“Dark Kind… what do you mean? What has happened?” asked Cinda. “I mean, aside from… from what happened here?”
“You haven’t heard?” muttered Rew. He turned to pace but stopped. With five of them in the curtained area, there was nowhere to go. “Where were you before… Ah, I’ve more questions than we have time. Of course you haven’t heard. The city was attacked. Hundreds of narjags mustered outside shortly after Commander Broyce left with the bulk of the garrison. A pack of thieves snuck in and struck down Arcanist Ralcrist. Then, they used his staff to destroy the artifact he was maintaining that dampened high magic in this vicinity. When the crystal was destroyed, Alsayer attacked your parents, killing your mother, capturing your father, and escaping through a portal. Following the attack, I ran out and saw that there was no one left in authority. I took command, and we defended the city against the narjags. The Dark Kind were driven off, but there are still close to one hundred of them loose in the barrowlands. We’ve made preparations to secure the city and provide what care we can to the injured. We’re bringing in everyone from the outlying areas, and I believe that’s everything.”
“Arcanist Ralcrist is dead?” asked Cinda, a catch in her voice.
Rew nodded. He watched the young noblewoman, thinking she seemed more upset about the arcanist than her own parents. He supposed that before she’d been fostered to Worgon in Yarrow, Ralcrist must have been her tutor in high magic. Her tutor and perhaps a parental figure as well. After speaking with Baron Fedgley and learning the man had fostered his children to his enemy as a distraction, Rew found it hard to imagine baron and baroness had ever shown much love.
“We have to go after Alsayer,” hissed Raif. “We have to recover Father.”
“Maybe,” said Rew. “First, you’ve the town to look after. You’ve hundreds of soldiers to bury. You’ve got to get in touch with Commander Broyce and get him back to help fortify Falvar. Then, there are still the Dark Kind roaming the barrowlands. They must be hunted but only after the people are safe.”
“I will not leave Father with that… that man,” growled Raif, tears leaking from his eyes.
“Quiet,” said Anne, wafting more of the smoke in his direction. “You’re larger and it will take you longer to heal than your sister. My healing will be most effective in the first few hours, and the more you speak and move about, the longer your recovery. So stay still.”
“With Mother and Father gone…” stammered Cinda, “I don’t know where to start.”
“Start by healing,” advised Rew. He turned to Captain Gage. “The baron is in enemy hands. His children were subject to a magical attack but will recover. The baroness is dead. There are still Dark Kind out in the barrowlands, and we don’t know where Commander Broyce is or, frankly, if he still lives. You understand the situation, Captain?”
His lips twisting in consternation, Captain Gage nodded.
“Get back into the city, then,” instructed Rew. “Get it into order, but share little of what you saw here. For now, the rumors won’t be any worse than the truth. I want th
e men focused on the Dark Kind and rebuilding the gate, not on what’s happening in the keep or with the baron.”
“Father,” croaked Raif. “You are talking about our father.”
“I know, lad,” said Rew, turning back to him. “I know. We’ve got to sort Falvar first. We’ll sort Falvar, and then… then we’ll talk about the baron.”
The captain ducked out, and Anne looked up at Rew, a question in her eyes.
He sighed and looked away. He was quiet for a moment before turning back to her, “I want you to care for the younglings, Anne. When he left, he told me… Alsayer isn’t done with them. That man and his plans! These children… They’re at the heart of it, Anne.”
“I will do as much as I can,” promised the empath.
“They need to be healthy,” insisted Rew. “Quickly, Anne.”
Cinda and Raif looked between the ranger and the empath, confused. Neither Rew nor Anne bothered to explain.
“Healthy even at the expense of others?” she asked quietly. “During the attack outside, how many were—“
Rew took a step forward and put a hand on Anne’s shoulder. His mind screamed at him to turn away, to leave instructions for Captain Gage, to flee. He could feel it, a relentless pull. He could feel the swirl of need building around him. He closed his eyes. “At the expense of others. Alsayer felt it, and I can feel it too. I don’t know how, but they’ve a further role to play in this drama. Falvar is just the beginning.”
Anne drew a deep breath, let it go, and stuck more herbs into her censer. “I understand.”
Nodding, Rew stepped back. The pull was like a fishing line, hooked into him, tugging, inescapable.
He frowned. “Where is Zaine? I didn’t see her outside. She was supposed to wait with you.”
“I don’t know,” said Anne. “She came to find me and helped me bring Jon here. I looked at the back of her head again, and she didn’t seem badly hurt…”
Rew sighed. “If Captain Gage needs me, I’ll be back shortly. I’ve got to go collect a—No, I’ve got to go collect two thieves.”
