by Susan Faw
She joined the rest of the camp followers, riding up to a round woman sitting on the bench of a wagon loaded with goods.
“Good day, mistress,” Ziona said politely. “Where might I find the supply clerk of the legion?”
The woman’s eyes peered out at her from a dusty bonnet. “Quartermaster Higgs is the short, balding man other there.” She pointed to the left side of the camp where it appeared a large tent was being erected. She eyed Ziona’s packs with interest.
“Thank you, mistress.” Ziona rode toward the edge of the camp.
A pair of soldiers stepped into her path before she was able to cross half the distance to the tent. “What is the nature of your business?” the larger of the two demanded.
“I have come to see the quartermaster, good sirs. I wish to offer my services to the camp as a seamstress of renown. I have experience creating army garments for the lowest recruit to the highest ranked officer. I assure you my prices are very reasonable.”
“Very well, report directly to the quartermaster. He will tell you where you are permitted to set up camp.”
Ziona nudged her mare forward and rode the short distance to the quartermaster’s tent. She dismounted and then pulled a bundle of samples from her side pack. As she entered the tent, she observed a flurry of motion, as supplies were unloaded and stacked onto makeshift shelving. It appeared they intended to stay for a few days.
She approached the man who appeared to be in charge. “Good sir? May I speak with you a moment.”
The hulking quartermaster, annoyed with the interruption, barked, “What do you want?”
“The good men at the entrance told me to come see you. Where should I set up my seamstress’s tent?” She held out the samples for his inspection. “They are of the finest quality, I assure you.”
He glanced at them and waved her away. “You can leave those here and set up your tent with the other merchants. I will come find you.”
“Thank you, good sir.” She left the tent.
On her way out of the camp, she spied activity on the back side, where a practice yard appeared to have been set up. A group of men were chasing a lad about Avery’s age. He dashed here and there, trying to avoid their weapons. He glowed blue the entire time.
Smiling to herself, she searched for a place to set up camp.
***
Cayden dodged to the left, rounding a tree which saved his head from being split open by the wooden mace swung into it. He had not been issued any weapons, not having earned the right by keeping his feet for ten minutes. He was at eight and a half minutes now by his reckoning. However, Sergeant Perez seemed to have a longer accounting of time.
Cayden had dropped one of the trainees, having kicked him as he swung his weapon, a staff, leaving is belly exposed. He had gained a weapon at last out of the exchange, but it was impossible to swing it in the trees where he had fled, the men chasing after him.
His eyes searched frantically for a spot from which to defend himself with his commandeered weapon. He spied an outcropping of rock too steep to climb. It would protect his back, however. He sprinted toward it, arriving just in time to spin into a defensive position.
He couldn’t only defend. He had to attack. He had been the rabbit for two weeks now. The daily beatings were wearing him down. He was a mass of bruises and cuts even Laurista’s administrations couldn’t eliminate. Seven men were left and they formed up around him. Two were short, three were tall, and the other two were of medium height.
Cayden took a deep breath and calmed himself. He thought about the eagle he had called when carving its flute back home. Thinking of the eagle gave him an idea. He reached out with his senses and found an eagle nearby in the forest. He nudged it with his subconscious mind and the eagle responded, winging toward the camp.
The tall man on the left swung at Cayden with his sword. Cayden easily deflected it with the long staff. A man on his right dashed in with another sword, which was easily pushed aside. Suddenly, they rushed him at once, attempting to overwhelm him by sheer numbers. Cayden lay about with the staff, panic lending him speed if not accuracy. He knocked one on the head, dropping him to the ground, out cold. On his return swing, he took two more out at the knees. They fell on top of one another. A sword caught him, slashing a long cut down his upper arm. Thankfully the practice swords were left somewhat dull; however, they could still break bones and blood welled from the wound, dripping down to his hand and making the already slick staff, slippery in his grip. Cayden butted his attacker in the stomach while his sword completed its arc past his arm and he doubled over in pain, retching. He did not get back up. The remaining men backed off and reorganized. The two he had tripped got back to their feet. They moved a little more warily now, attempting to flank him.
Cayden breathed heavily, sweat pouring from his pores and mixing with the blood of his cut, causing it to sting and burn. Suddenly, he heard a screech from the sky. A lone eagle circled above him and then dived toward Cayden. The men glanced up at the sky, alarmed by the plummeting eagle.
Cayden swung his staff, clipping the nearest man on his ear. He fell to the ground, out cold. Cayden pulled back on his staff and rammed the butt end into the stomach of the man standing opposite. He clutched his stomach and spilled its contents, dropping to his knees.
Cayden then swung at the third man who raised his sword arm in defence. Cayden rapped his wrist, causing it to go numb and drop the sword. Cayden then tapped the man in the head and he dropped.
The eagle clawed at the remaining two men, wings flapping, talons raking their backs and arms. Sergeant Perez, watching from the sidelines, cursed and called for archers. Cayden cried out to the eagle to flee. The eagle lifted back into the sky and vanished into the trees. Cayden lowered his staff. The remaining two men were no longer interested in fighting. Blood dripped from the shredded skin on their backs. Cayden breathed in heavily, trying to catch his breath. He had won for a change.
Sergeant Perez marched over to where the men lay groaning on the ground. He glanced at them and then frowned at Cayden. Cayden thought he saw a glimmer of respect in his eyes. Respect, yes, but hatred was reflected there too.
“So the rabbit has teeth at last. It’s about bloody time. Lucky for you the eagle took a liking to their arms. You lot, up on your feet and off to the healer’s tent. Since you helped cause this mess, you can help get them there, Cayden. Dismissed!”
Chapter 16
NELSON SQUEEZED HIS SKINNY FRAME into the gap, holding his lantern aloft as he shuffled sideways through the break in the stone wall. Hands took the lantern from him and then grasped his arm to give him a tug. He popped out of the crevice like a cork from a bottle, overbalancing on the landing.
He brushed his shirt and pants down and then examined his surroundings. He found himself in a rough, naturally formed cavern about the size of the stables of his inn. The ceiling was covered in stalactites at one end, close to a narrow stream of water that trickled through the rear of the cave. Matching stalagmites formed on the floor, giving the appearance of a tooth-filled jaw about to snap shut.
This limestone cave was promising. Of all the stones they had tunnelled through to date, this was the first that matched the stone construction inside the castle. The castle foundations were built on limestone, but the upper structure was of quarried granite from the mountain ranges to the northeast. Finding a limestone deposit was like finding gold. They were not far from their goal.
“Hector, how far does this cave extend? Have you had a chance to explore deeper yet?”
Hector rubbed his dark chin in thought, rough hand rasping across the stubble. “Yes, sir. However, we ran low on lantern fuel and had to turn back. If we follow the stream, it runs in a southeast direction that should bring us inside the castle walls. The stream is flowing away from the castle, which means there must be a water source up ahead. I suspect a spring of some sort.”
Nelson nodded. The spring could be the one that fed the wells inside the castle.
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“OK, let’s work on widening this cleft. It needs to be wide enough for men and supplies to pass.” Hector nodded his head in acknowledgement of the instructions. “I think this is a good place to set up a base camp. The cavern is wide enough to hold twenty men plus supplies. I’ll head back and let Denzik know of our find. Erik, Hector, come with me and put together an exploration crew.”
They squeezed back out through the crack and into the main tunnel. Men were busy clearing the debris from the latest tunnelling efforts. They were using pickaxes and water combined with fungus to soften the limestone wall. One of the men had discovered the pasty mixture easily dissolved the white powdery veins in the limestone rock, making it easier to knock out larger pieces of stone. The pickaxes clanked against the stone surface as they chipped away at the walls.
They exited the caves into the cellar of his basement. Nelson climbed back up into the inn and set off across the village square to Denzik’s home. He found him out back tending to the vegetables in his meager garden. Denzik was bent over his hoe, chopping at the weeds attempting to take over the bed. Sweat glistened, streaking the dust coating his shirtless back as he hoed. Nelson stepped up to the side of a row of string beans, and peering over the laced stakes, he whispered, “The men have made a discovery. You need to come have a look at this.”
Denzik straightened from his work, swiping his arm across his forehead and leaving a dirty smear. He nodded. He worried about what ears were about during the daylight hours. “I will share a pint with you as soon as I am finished here. I accept your invitation gratefully. There is nothing like cold ale after slaving away in the hot sun,” he announced in a loud voice.
He nodded and Nelson headed off for the bakery.
Opening the door set the chimes to tinkling. His senses were overwhelmed by the sweet spicy scent of apple dumplings. He spied Fabian with his head emerging from a wall oven, a steaming tray of the sugary treats in his hands. At the sound of the bell, he spotted Nelson.
“Some great things are cooking in my kitchen too. Care to stop by for a bite after work?” It was his code to Fabian.
Fabian lips twitched. “I would be delighted to stop in. It beats going home for a lonely dinner. Around the usual time?”
“Certainly, I will save a table for you. In the meantime, I need fifty of your crusty dinner rolls for this evening.”
Fabian rounded up the requested rolls and placed them in a paper sack for Fabian. “Cash or on account?” he enquired as he placed them on the counter.
“On account, if you please. See you at dinner.” Picking up the bag of buns, Nelson walked out of the bakery and back down the dusty street to his inn.
The inn was a two-story wooden structure, framed by a verandah running the length of the front exposure. Rocking chairs were placed randomly along the front and were frequently used by guests to relax after their evening meal, lit pipe in one hand and a brandy glass in the other. The porch afforded a clear view of the highway, which did not disappoint for entertainment, day or night. A constant stream of traffic moved back and forth from the castle.
When Nelson had taken it over, the entire building had had a definite lean to the right. The wooden shutters were missing slats and the door creaked on hinges nearly seized up. The inside had been infested with mice and rats. Nelson walked up onto the porch and bent down to scratch his favourite cat, Sally, under her chin. She purred and wound around his legs, tail held rigidly in the air. He had found her, drowning in the rain barrel she had fallen into while attempting to get a drink. Scrawny and near dead, he had taken the kitten in. She had rewarded him by becoming a prime mouser, earning her keep every day. In fact, she was the best mouser he had ever had.
Entering the inn, Nelson waved to the assembled patrons who called out greetings. He stepped up behind the bar and put a note in the store’s ledger about the bun purchase and then delivered them to the kitchen.
Inside he found his head cook, Tabitha, spoon in hand, tasting the broth from her soup pot. With a satisfied smacking of her lips, she gave the pot another stir and placed the lid back on it with a clatter. He handed off the rolls to her.
“There will be a few extra for dinner tonight. I hope you have made enough to feed everyone.” She squinted at him and seeing his expression, nodded.
“I always cook for the regular crowd plus ten percent in case we have unexpected company like those soldiers that came through. Why don’t you check the pantry and see for yourself? I will not be accused of slacking in my duties. Now let me get back to my work,” she said primly. Scowling, she focused her attention on the large bowl of potatoes waiting to be peeled.
Nelson snorted a laugh then wandered off to the pantry. She really was the best cook he had ever had…along with being the main food supplier for their underground endeavors. It amazed him how she stretched the inn’s budget to keep the underground crews fed. I really must give her a raise some time, he thought.
The pantry was located in a separate room from the kitchen. This was also where the trap door to his cellar was located. Usually, it was covered with a woven mat and a vat of potatoes sat on it to disguise its presence. The mat was attached to the door so it would settle back into place when someone pulled the hatch closed after lowering themselves into the cellar, effectively disguising the entrance on entering or exiting.
Hector and Erik were waiting for him when he entered the room.
“The men are assembled and the supplies are down in the tunnel. The crews are about halfway through the cleft. I would say it will be about another hour or two before they have it fully opened,” Erik said.
“Good work. Head into the common room and get yourselves something to eat. It might be a long night.”
The pair left as instructed. Nelson approached the left wall of the storage chamber. He stored his extra lamps next to a large barrel of lamp oil he kept for just this kind of occasion. He pulled out twenty lamps and began filling their bellies, trimming the wicks as he did so. Task completed, he placed them on a shelf near the entrance to the basement.
Next, he pulled a blanket off of a storage chest. Fishing his key ring out of his pocket, he searched for the brass key that matched the lock. He turned the key in the lock and it opened with a metallic click. Stored inside was a stash of weapons, swords and halberds, spears, and shields. He hesitated and then took out five of the swords and placed them beside the trunk. He locked it back up and replaced the blanket, concealing the trunk from curious eyes. Wrapping the swords in spare linen from the cupboard, he placed the bundle behind the lanterns and left the room.
Chapter 17
CAYDEN STRETCHED AND RELAXED HIS SORE MUSCLES as he lay on his pallet, idly rolling the stone his sister had given him between his fingers. The stone felt curiously warm, like it had been sitting in the sun of the south-facing garden of their cabin all day.
The tent flap opened and half of his tent mates clambered in, returning from dinner and flopping on their respective mats.
Darius dropped onto the pallet next to Cayden’s, groaning in contentment. He rubbed his distended belly. “I don’t know whether the eats were better than normal tonight or if I was extra hungry.”
Pieter, the lad next to Darius, snorted and with a laugh flopped down on his own space. “If it wasn’t for Cayden whooping us out in the practice yard, we wouldn’t have been allowed those extra helpings. So kind of Laurista to send that note with us saying we required ‘extra helpings’ to assist with her healing…and so kind of the cook to oblige.”
“Well, I for one do not plan to have Cayden ‘whoop us’ again anytime soon. He got lucky. That’s all there was to it,” said a third tent mate, James.
“How so? I was out cold from the beginning.” Darius gazed intently at Cayden, his stare so intense that Cayden looked away.
“You missed the eagle attack,” said James. “I’ve never seen such a thing before. That eagle dived from a clear blue sky and went straight for those of us who were attacking Cayden. Cayden
didn’t get a scratch from the bird. It was like it was protecting him.” James stared at Cayden.
The others’ eyes fell on Cayden too, watching his reaction. Cayden sat up, tucking the stone in his pocket. He stared back at the others, trying to think of what to say. A slow flush crawled up his neck. His ears heated.
“I can’t explain what happened. I was as shocked as any of you when the eagle appeared.” He dropped his eyes. This was stretching the truth, he knew, which only made the flush rise higher. “I’m not sad for its help, though.”
Darius’s toothy grin broadened, seeing his friend’s embarrassment. “You beat us fair and square, Cayden. We all know it. We were curious about the bird, that’s all. It did seem like it was protecting you or something. I know Perez was livid after you left. He felt you had cheated somehow. We can’t see how that’s possible, though.”
The rest of the tent residents filed in at that moment, interrupting their conversation.
“Oh, before I forget,” said Darius. “Perez says that you are to report to the supply tent first thing in the morning. You are to be fitted for a private’s uniform like ours.” Darius leaned over and whispered softly, “If you ever need someone to talk to, I am here for you.”
“Thanks. I think I will sleep now.” Cayden pulled his blankets up to his chin, rolled on his side. Before the lamps were dimmed, he was fast asleep.
***
The morning dawned cloudy and grey. A damp mist hung in the air, which soaked through Cayden’s shirt long before he reached the supply tent. He wished he had pulled out his cloak, although it was really too warm for such a heavy garment.
He knocked on the wooden plate at the door of the supply tent, announcing his arrival. “Come!” Drawing aside the flap, he entered the tent he had visited on his first day. The supply clerk was seated at his makeshift table, scribbling in a ledger. He glanced at Cayden as he entered. “Name?”
