Nara jumped from rooftop to rooftop as she watched the charity in action, witnessing the reactions of the parents, the children, and, more importantly, the soldiers. They loved it. They sang and whistled, and those who were suspicious at first soon relaxed and smiled. Citizens thanked the soldiers, and there were more tears and hugs exchanged than she could count.
As night approached, Jahmai summoned them all back to the outpost, pockets empty but hearts full. Several large bonfires raged in the open area, and pigs roasted on spits propped on braces between boulders and columns. Spirits were high among the army, with many laughs and songs throughout the evening.
“That was a good thing today,” Mykel said as they sipped from mugs of hot apple wine. “I don’t think the men are worrying about a thing right now.”
“It’s our job to lead,” Nara said. “It’s theirs to follow and fight. But leading is more than just battle. It’s about leading their hearts, and I’m glad they could have this.”
“Me too,” Jahmai said, joining them, holding a mug. “You two are a blessing. I mean that. Whatever happens, many will remember this day. I’ve never seen these men so happy on the eve of a long march, and the recruits are swelling our ranks by the hour.”
“How many so far?”
“You have an army of almost three hundred right now. More by morning, for sure. Able is keeping a roster and giving updates.”
“How many are garrisoned near Fairmont?” Mykel asked.
“At least two thousand. Probably three, since Kayna will summon more from outlying areas when she hears what happened here.”
“Three hundred against three thousand?” Nara shook her head. “We’re gonna need a miracle.”
“No, we won’t,” Jahmai said, looking at Nara. “We have you.”
29
Beast
Kayna stood in a sentry tower as training exercises took place in the open area below. Ennis never envisioned the compound to be a training ground, but General Almit didn’t want either of the two projects to be far from their cells, just in case something went wrong. Staying close would allow Kayna to manage things if they got out of control. With what was at stake, she was happy to oblige.
The Dimmitt boy fought with a hammer and shield among a dozen armored opponents, his size and strength giving him an advantage over the soldiers that prodded him with wood sticks and guarded themselves with shields. Teaching the monster to fight well would be difficult, and they may not have time for him to develop much skill, but the armor was nearly complete and his ability to heal would serve well in battle. The men called him Beast, and the name had stuck. His size, ferocity, and slightly misshapen form certainly fit the moniker.
Although his growth had finally stopped, he was easily eight feet tall, thicker than an oak tree, and ate as much as ten men. He took to the health rune quickly, but even with a week of practice, he still couldn’t flare the strength rune. In truth, he didn’t need it—his size provided a strength that approached that of a bear even now. Still, he almost flared the rune twice today, so it wouldn’t be much longer. When he found it, he would be a juggernaut on any battlefield, even without skill. But they had erred with him, going too far on the conditioning. He remembered nothing of his former life, which was good, but he’d even forgotten most words. Ennis sent an officer to hire tutors so the boy could learn to speak again, but progress was slow, especially since he murdered the first tutor they sent—a redhead—crushing her the moment she entered his cell. A foolish error.
Kayna’s other project was a girl who now practiced against a large circle of dummies holding pikes and spears. She stood over six feet tall and darted about with unnatural speed, holding wooden knives she used to stab at the mannequins, shredding her silent opponents. They had found her in a village near Glennway, at fifteen years old. Her transformation hadn’t cost her memory or her words, showing a resilience not seen in the males.
Health didn’t work on her, though. Even after an accurate inscription, she couldn’t see it, much less flare it, which was disappointing. Cursed had perplexing limitations, but Ennis moved forward with the project anyway, burning off the scar to try again. She took to the steelskin rune and recently mastered speed, a great talent in combat. Kayna wondered if they should try another rune but was cautious about getting greedy this time. With two cursed and many new gifted, her army should easily overcome Nara’s little rebellion.
Kayna climbed down from the tower and approached the circle where Beast trained. As she got closer, he noticed her and turned, immediately taking a knee in the middle of the fray. She walked up to him, smiling.
“How are you doing today, Beast?”
“Goot,” he said in a booming voice. Even kneeling, he was taller than Kayna, and she reached up to brush his black hair aside and put a hand on his cheek. Then she moved around to rub his back.
Beast closed his eyes. “Mama,” he breathed, and his shoulders relaxed.
He called her that whenever she touched him. Mama. Odd thing. And strange how her touch calmed him so. How much he desired to please her.
“Now fight!” Kayna ordered, then rose into the air upon a gust of wind.
Beast bolted upright at her command, springing into action with eyes wide, brandishing the hammer at the soldiers who challenged him. He swung feverishly and advanced, the vigor in his assault increasing markedly with Kayna now watching from above. Even without a strength rune, the hammer struck shields and sent men flying backward.
“Harder!” Kayna said.
He charged directly into three men. One of them braced the butt of his spear on the ground, putting the tip through Beast’s left shoulder. Beast bellowed and crushed the man’s head with his hammer, then dropped his shield and removed the impaled spear with his left hand. The wound closed instantly, and Beast charged several more men, who ran.
“Down, Beast!” Kayna shouted, and the monster immediately took a knee, breathing heavily.
She knelt at his side, rubbed his back again, and felt him relax again under her touch.
Ennis walked up, cautiously. “Did he get strength yet?”
Kayna turned to face him. “Not today. But we’re close. Tomorrow maybe. I can’t imagine what he’ll be like when he finds it.”
“Me either,” Ennis said.
“What’s your report?” she asked.
“Armor is done. Fitting this afternoon, if he’ll do it.”
She turned to Beast, continuing to rub his back. “He’ll do anything I say.”
30
Nightlight
When Nara awoke, she expected to eat and begin preparations for the march north but immediately sensed something was off. She left her tent to find soldiers packing wagons here and there, but to the north of the outpost, she heard a noise. It wasn’t fighting. It was cheering.
She ran through the destroyed gate and out into the field where Lieutenant Martel, Wileman, and several dozen of her men were trying to organize a rowdy crowd of citizens, mostly young men. Were they demanding more food?
She reached to the nearest soldier, who didn’t seem to be concerned. “What’s happening?”
“They’re here for us, Majesty.”
For us?
“They want to join. They want to fight in Fairmont.”
“Oh,” she said. She looked at the long lines. Dozens. Maybe hundreds. “Wow.”
Mykel was talking with some men off to the right, and Nara walked over to meet with them. As she approached, Mykel looked to her and spoke to the men, who took a knee and lowered their eyes.
“Stand up,” she said. “Please.”
They stood slowly, apprehensively, and she introduced herself, shaking hands with many of them. “I’m Nara.”
The men smiled and shook her hand vigorously.
“Your plan worked,” Mykel said. “They want to join. Jahmai thinks we’ll have close to seven hundred before we leave today.”
She nodded. Seven hundred. More than they expected, for sure. They didn
’t have seven hundred swords, though. Or seven hundred suits of armor. But with a couple of weeks of travel before Fairmont, they’d find time to make spears along the way. She smiled.
They might have a chance after all.
The trek north from Ankar would be a challenging one with such numbers. Jahmai explained that with such a force, Kayna would know they were coming long before they arrived, so scouts would perform reconnaissance along the advance flanks to prevent an ambush. They would avoid travel through narrow passes. And because carrying enough food for such an army would slow them down, much of it would be purchased along the way.
They piled food for the initial march into wagons. They purchased other supplies and equipment, including tents for sleeping, medical use, and a command center, and grabbed as many weapons as they could from the Ankar outposts and local weaponsmiths. Jahmai even bought two bone cepps from a nobleman whose steward sold them some armor. The cepps were empty, but Nara filled them from her own reserves right away and they now dangled from her belt. They would come in handy if she ran low on strength.
As tedious as the preparations had been, once they were moving, there was an enthusiasm in the air. Young soldiers sang and laughed as they marched, confident in victory and eager to begin the contest.
Nara spent much of the early trip walking among the soldiers, listening to their stories and asking about their families. Most of the newer volunteers were poor and spoke of how they had been mistreated by Fairmont. Some told of friends in nearby villages who had disappeared or been murdered. These people wanted to fight back, but they didn’t know how. Laborers, farmers, or simple city folk, few knew anything about real combat, and that would be a big handicap when facing trained soldiers and the Queen’s gifted.
They trained in the evenings, breaking into groups of twenty to practice formations. While several elite groups of soldiers trained together, including Jahmai’s mounted regulars and the archer corps, many of the others included raw recruits that needed guidance. By the end of the third night, all were accustomed to the routine. Break camp, march until midday, eat lunch, march until sundown, make camp, train, then eat again. Those less suited for battle made spears from trees they’d cut down along the way. Light in the evening was provided by torches at first, enabling them to train in the dark. The routine changed on day five, however, as they stopped in the middle of a large, flat plain near a small group of woods outside the small town of Canty.
“You’re not training them tonight?” Nara asked.
“Can’t,” Jahmai said. “It’s too dark, and we’re low on torches.”
“We should stop earlier in the evening to train in the daylight.”
“Hurts our forward progress if we do that,” Mykel said, as he walked up to join the discussion. “We will run out of food before we arrive if we don’t keep our pace.”
“But so many are new. They need training,” Nara said.
“Nara, all the training in the world won’t make most of these young folks fight much better. The moment they face an armored man with a sword or spear, most of these greenhorns will break no matter what training we give them.”
“Well, that’s not very encouraging,” she said. “Train them anyway. Tonight. Even if it doesn’t help them fight, it helps them have hope. They need hope more than anything. I need hope more than anything.”
“No light. How could we—”
Right then, in the middle of the camp, Nara rose on a column of earth high into the air, then flared the light rune. The entire plain lit up with her brilliance, approaching daylight in its intensity, like a new sun. The suddenness of it must have scared many because they dropped their tents or bedrolls with the sudden illumination.
“Holy Dei,” some said.
“Praise Him,” said others.
After a few moments, Nara shouted. “Get to work. To your drills!”
For two hours, the tired army drilled, practicing formations, charges, regrouping, and shield work. Legs ached from the long day of marching, but hopes were high, and they trained with fervor. When Jahmai finally called for them to retire, Nara stayed alight long enough for them to erect tents and build fires.
So it went for the next week. March during the day, then train at night by the light of Nara. She became their inspiration, and they became hers. Spending most of the day walking among them, she learned their names, their fears, and their hopes for the future of the Great Land. Some cried when she hugged them, others saluted. Still others knelt and prayed. Despite the frustration she felt with Dei, the men of her army seemed to have no such problem with their faith, praising Him and calling her ‘angel.’ Some said the evening sun who guided them was the ‘Light of Dei.’
Nara tried to dissuade them at first but, eventually, gave up. Since she didn’t have much of her own anymore, the piety of these simple, honorable people would be useful in carrying them forward. To win this fight, they would need every bit of hope they could get.
31
Assault
Gwyn was no stranger to wilderness survival. Hunting, fishing, and making shelters were activities that occupied her life as a young watcher, but she’d never been required to perform those tasks in the company of a seven-foot-tall half-naked barbarian cursed who could barely speak. And she’d always been given a purpose, someone to follow, someone to watch. Something to do. Now, however, they just waited. For Anne. “Find the boy,” the old woman said, “then I’ll find you.”
Their first night in the wild was uneventful, and Yury’s obvious gratitude kept him close. They stole some clothing for him from a shop in a small town, and all was well as they kept moving their camp, always staying less than a day’s walk from the compound. Several days later, however, he began to wander, watching the roads intently and even following groups of soldiers from time to time. His words started to come back, but he still spoke in fits and starts. Slow progress.
At least finding food was no problem, her vision and his speed making it easy to hunt. Yury had even taken to fishing. He’d stand in a stream, motionless, watching, then, like lightning, he had a dagger through the gills of their lunch, its tail flapping in futility. One afternoon, several days after the rescue, they sat around a fire eating a fairly large sheefish, when Yury remembered something.
“I have family,” he said.
There it was. This would change things. “Yes, you do.”
“Sister.”
“Yes.”
It was bound to happen, and she worried what he’d do when he remembered. She’d allied with a giant racer who now carried a grudge and plenty of ability to act on it. But to attack a compound full of armed men would be foolishness. They’d surely have increased the guard by now, probably augmented by gifted warriors, and stealth would no longer be their ally. It’d be brute force against a vastly superior enemy with better arms and a fortification.
“We will save her,” Gwyn said. “I have friends coming to help.”
It was an empty promise, but it might stall him. She hoped so. Anne should find her, and if she was with Nara and Mykel, they could attack the compound straight on, even against several gifted. She pictured Nara leaping over the wall, or perhaps Mykel smashing right through. Earth would trap the legs of soldiers, and they could save every child in the compound in just a few minutes. But Gwyn and Yury alone would be a different story. They could kill a few soldiers, then would be slowed by efforts to rescue the children. There was no way of making an exit, and they would need to escape through one of the gates. That would require fighting nearly every soldier in the compound, including gifted. Suicide.
“When?” he asked.
“Um. I’m not sure. Soon.”
“Two,” he said. Then shook his head, struggling to articulate. “Days. I wait two.”
“Okay.” Frustrated, she didn’t know what else to say. The boy wanted his sister, and Gwyn had failed to save her. He would go alone if he had to.
Where are you, Anne?
The two days passed,
and despite her reluctance, it was time for Gwyn to make good on her promise. Both she and Yury crouched near the edge of the tree line overlooking the outpost. As expected, the compound had fortified the guard, even building more sentry towers and adding lighting. Gwyn’s eyes surveyed the torches that now circled the outpost, seeing some even scattered about the open area on posts between the trees and the fortification’s walls.
“We can’t approach without being seen,” she said.
He turned to her, smiling, then pointed at the nearest torch post. “Burn.”
Burn it? She looked at the posts, torches flaring. Interesting. And it might work. Yury was fast enough, for sure. It would be hard to hit him with an arrow unless they got lucky. Even if they did, he could heal. “If you stack enough torches at the base of the wall, it will surely alight. Heck, they use oil sealer to keep that wood from rotting. Should go up pretty quick.”
He nodded.
“The buildings are all made of brick, so the children should be fine, and the chaos will be to our advantage.”
“Gate.” He pointed at the western gate. “Out.”
Their escape. They’d have to get the gate open. Children didn’t climb walls very well.
“After you start the fire on the east side, we’ll go around the outpost and enter over the western wall. It’ll be a lot of running, for both of us, and we will battle several guards on the way to the main building to rescue the kids. I’m not sure how we’ll get in, but maybe we’ll get lucky.”
“We go.” Yury jumped to his feet, heading straight at the first torch.
“No! Not that way. Other side. East.” The look on his face showed that he didn’t know what east meant. “Follow me.”
They headed straight south, then east, skirting the wall, then north again. There was no gate on the eastern wall, but the open area had plenty of torches.
The Godseeker Duet Page 49
