by T. C. Edge
"This fort was once the main one in the area," he tells us. His eyes sway left and right, finger pointing in those directions. "There are others, of course, to the east and west, as well as further to the south. Not all have been manned in recent years. I suspect that most, if not all, will now be abandoned, with the bulk of the soldiers retreating behind the walls of the city."
"It might be a good idea for us to check," Burns suggests. "We could do so while we set up here and wait for the reinforcements."
Perses doesn't respond to the option. He remains clear enough on his desire to keep any blood off his hands if possible.
Frankly, it won't be. I'm realising that already myself, though my own determination to not harm Olympian soldiers, unless entirely necessary, will never be as strong as a man like Perses, who has led them for many years. After witnessing what happened in Hunter's Station, and hearing that the same has been occurring elsewhere from my grandmother, I feel fairly certain that I'd turn to violence if encountering such activity again.
And if my parents, if Pine Lake, is under attack?
I brace myself at the thought, knowing I'll hold nothing back to defend those I love.
"The walls look a little worn down, Perses," my grandmother says, staring ahead. "I suspect this place was abandoned some time ago. The Forgers have clearly neglected it."
"It's a fair point, Perses," adds Burns. "Might there not be somewhere more structurally sound nearby where we could make camp?"
"There are others, but nowhere for at least thirty miles or so," Perses says. "And I cannot vouch for whether or not they'll be entirely abandoned. I suggested this place because I knew it hadn't been manned for some time."
"But, if we should be attacked here?" asks Burns.
"I doubt we will be," Perses says. "But in any case, the fort is a fine place to defend. The walls may not be as durable as they once were, but that shouldn't matter. No other fort for some distance is going to provide as much space for you and your troops, Leyton. It may be a little run down in places, but it's the largest you'll find."
"Then I suppose it'll have to do," Burns says. "We will see what we can do to bolster the walls regardless. We have some with telekinetic power who might be able to do passable impressions of the Olympian Forgers. And our Brutes can manage the rest."
"I'd be happy to help myself where I can." Perses says. "I'll make myself useful for you, Leyton."
"Your use would be better served in helping us prepare for a siege," Burns says. "Your knowledge of these lands, and Olympus itself, is an asset we'd like to use." He holds a hand up as Perses prepares to speak. "I know you'd prefer it not come to that, but you have to be realistic. There may be no other way to get to the Prime without breaching the gate, or the walls. If that is your goal then you mustn't offer council that will deter us towards another path."
Secretary Burns sets a firm stare on Perses, looking up into the great Olympian's grizzled face. The benefit of being a Savant, I suppose, is that you don't really feel the intimidation that others would when facing off against a man of Perses's stature.
Eventually, Perses begins to nod, speaking sagely as he goes. "I cannot deny your words, Leyton," he says. "Seeing all of this devastation only serves to focus my desire to depose the Prime, and I understand that loss of life will come as part of that. I consider military losses acceptable," he says. "Innocents should, however, be spared."
"They will be," Burns assures him. "You have my word on that. But I would like yours, too, that you will council us on the best ways of getting into Olympus, and to the summit where the Prime resides. You're best placed to advise us here."
"I could also help in that regard," my grandmother says, adding her voice. "At least, where I can. The city has changed since I was there, but I may be able to offer some insight still."
"And we'd welcome it, Alberta." Burns says. He turns to me. "Do you think young Elian would also offer his help?"
"I'd hope so," I say. "He'll be like Perses, I imagine. He won't want innocent people dying, but other than that..."
"I think it's clear enough that the killing of innocents is unpalatable to anyone with a strong moral compass, Amber," Burns says. "Let it be assumed from now on that the innocent people of Olympus shall not be targeted."
"Well, that depends what you mean by innocent," says my grandmother.
"Usually, in war, it merely means non-military personnel," Burns says, clarifying his personal definition.
My grandmother raises her eyes. "A simplistic view," she says. "There will be many, many people in Olympus who will be happy to see every one of you burn. They will defend their city, if it comes to it, with the same fervour as the soldiers. It may be hard to know just who you can 'target' and who you can't, if you're working within such a narrow definition."
"I understand what you're saying, Alberta," says Burns. "It's a grey area that leaves some room for manoeuvre."
"Then things could get complicated," she says. "You have to be willing to fight fire with fire, Leyton. And that goes for you too, Perses. You cannot be too overprotective of your people. Many in there are rotten to the core, and will never break away from the Prime, even if they should be killed." She narrows her eyes. I see a glowing flame within them. "The Prime is the target. They must go, whatever it takes. We cannot become too worried about collateral damage. Unfortunately, it's a facet of war that is unavoidable."
Once more, I find myself taken aback for the force of her words and opinion, enough to cause even Perses to look away, knowing, perhaps, that she is right. It's as though she has decades of pent up frustration, as though the woman she once was has broken free of its shell. And now, she has a score to settle; to take down those who banished her, to those who cast her aside.
The brief quiet that descends, as we all turn to our own thoughts, is broken shortly after as several black-clad figures reappear from the fort, passing through the gate and into the afternoon sun. I perk up again as I look and see Commander Hendricks waving us over.
The fort, it seems, has been confirmed to be abandoned.
It is time to settle in.
The next couple of hours pass quickly, as the convoy and soldiers move into the fort, with all the vehicles parked within a large courtyard inside. It looks to have doubled as a training area once, the interior space surrounded by support buildings and barracks, those used for the storing of provisions and men.
A quick check of those buildings tells us that no supplies have been found, save for a few old weapons and ammunition crates, as well as some Olympian soldier outfits and uniforms. Elsewhere, the pantry has been emptied out, the coating of dust and cobwebs suggesting that the place hasn't been visited in some time.
It's the same everywhere, as the five hundred or so men and women set about making the place suitable for our temporary - or perhaps extended - stay. As is typical of military hierarchy, the soldiers are set to barracks and accommodations suited to their rank and position, with the Stalkers, Neoromans, and Havenite troops all staying together in their own billets and bunks.
The higher ranking officers and leaders, meanwhile, are provided the better quarters towards the top of the central castle. It's equally as run down as the other areas, and hardly anymore luxuriously adorned. Really, all it provides is privacy, and the chance to have a better view over the plains through the stone windows that surround its facade.
Burns, of course, provides me and my grandmother with a room to ourselves, along the west facing side of the main tower. Fitted with an adjoining office, Jude is allowed to stay with us, fashioning a bed for himself there. It becomes clear enough, as the colours change and clouds roll in, that we are going to stay the night, as I thought would be best. My grandmother puts up little fight, looking as though she needs a good rest after everything she's been through recently.
"My powers may be back, but I'm no spring chicken anymore, Amber," she tells me, as she sets about plumping the flattened pillows on the twin beds in our room, and sh
aking out the dust from the sheets and bedding. "I have my old power in bursts, but it doesn't last long. I don't have the stamina of a young woman anymore."
"You won't need it, grandma," I assure her. "We'll be back here in a day or so. You'll have time to rest more then."
She nods as she works, though I sense she doesn't believe me. She isn't the sort to sit idly by while her lands are at war.
I step into the adjoining room as she continues to de-dust the beds, joining Jude. With some spare bedding drawn from an old wooden cupboard, he's got plenty of material for a decent enough nest. I suggest that we go and find an actual mattress and bring it up here, but he waves away the suggestion.
"I'm not taking a proper mattress from a proper soldier," he says. "They need to rest more than I do."
It's a typically selfless response from Jude.
I move towards the small window, the stone around it thick, and set my eyes away to the west. The view is rather good from up here, four or five floors from the ground, though my eyes aren't really good enough to make the most of it. I imagine there are towns and settlements out there that a Farsight would be able to see, but my eyes draw a blank. All I see are the open plains, and the dotted rock formations and rare thickets that pepper the lands. It's earthy and brown, the distance obscured by a light haze as the sun begins to descend.
"You thinking of home?" Jude asks idly, completing his bed.
His words take a moment to interrupt my thoughts. I hear him stepping to my side, standing behind me, looking out west as I am.
"You haven't been back in months," he says. "A lot's changed since then."
I clap my hands and glance back at him. "And the prize for understatement of the year goes to..."
He flattens his eyes. "I'm being serious, Amber. Do you reckon you'd ever be able to move back there, when all this ends?" he asks.
"Move back to Pine Lake?" I say.
He nods. "Yeah. You won't be a Herald after all this. You'll just be you again, won't you? Able to do what you want."
"I...I don't know what I want," I say. "I guess...I guess I haven't really thought about what might happen after. We have to get there first. It seems a waste to think too far ahead."
"I know what you mean," he says.
"And you?" I ask, turning to him fully. "What would you want to do?"
His eyes turn off. "I haven't thought about it either," he says. He glances up at me again, some hope in his eyes, before wandering off and returning to his preparations.
I watch him for a moment, so much always left unsaid between us, before I hear a knock coming from the next room. I step away to find Secretary Burns entering, my grandmother pulling open the old, wooden door, creaking loudly on rusted hinges.
"Ah, good to see you're settling in OK," Burns says, turning his eyes around. "I just wanted to come and tell you that I'm having a jeep outfitted for your journey. It'll be ready to go shortly, though I'd advise you wait until morning, now that the sun is..."
"Fine advice, Leyton," my grandmother says, "though ultimately unnecessary. We have already chosen to do as you say," she smiles. "Travelling at night isn't advisable, and I need my rest. Old bones, you see. You'll understand soon enough."
"I understand now, Alberta. My bones aren't so young either."
"Just wait until you reach my age, then you'll realise just how young you really were. If you haven't gone too senile to remember."
Burns smiles and dips his head. "Will you be going alone?" he asks. "Just the two of you?"
"Us and Jude," I say. I look to my grandmother. "I was thinking about asking Perses, but..."
I notice Burns shaking his head. "Unfortunately, Perses will not be available. He will need to stay here and help Commander Hendricks and I fit out the fort, and map the local area. I would be happy to provide another soldier or two, however, if you'd wish."
I look to my grandmother again. "What do you think, grandma? Might be a good idea."
"Perhaps," she says, drawing out the word. "But, I wouldn't want to deprive you, Leyton. I'm sure we'll be just fine alone."
"And, one of you can drive, I assume?" Burns asks.
"That won't be a problem," grandma says. "I was watching your driver earlier. Seems easy enough to operate. I'm sure Amber and Jude are perfectly capable."
She looks over to me. "I...er, yeah, I guess. It's pretty simple. All automatic. No gears."
"Well, if you're sure," says Burns. "If you change your mind, just let me know."
He nods at that and departs. I wait until I'm sure he's gone before turning to my grandmother with a question.
"We should take his offer up," I say. "Why wouldn't you want a couple of extra soldiers with us?"
"Because we don't need them, Amber," she says. "And I wouldn't be able to speak so candidly with them around. I want to spend time with you and Jude, and not have to worry about a couple of those vacant-eyed Stalkers lingering in the back of the car."
"Well, I don't think we'd bring Stalkers with us. A couple of Neoromans, maybe..."
"That's not much better. I'm sure they're fine soldiers and fine people, but they'd only get in the way. I don't want to be responsible for others, Amber."
"I think they can take care of themselves, grandma."
"That's not what I mean. Look, we don't know what we're going to find, and I'd prefer to be able to make our own decisions between us, rather than having to debate with a couple of foreigners, who may have a different objective in mind."
"Hmmm," I say, not entirely sure. "But...fine, I guess you know best. But for the record, if something happens and we're outmatched, then just remember I wasn't completely on board with this."
"The things I hear you're capable of, darling...oh, I don't think we'll be outmatched."
"Well, let's hope not, shall we. I imagine any soldier's going to be gunning for the likes of me now. As soon as they find out I'm a traitor, that is."
"If they have a death wish, maybe," she says, moving around the room again, cleaning it up as best she can. "And anyway, you're not a traitor, Amber, even if that’s what the Olympians will think. You’re right for both sides, really. For the Fringe, and the people of Olympus. It’s too complicated for most people to see.”
I nod, mumbling my sort-of agreement, as I help her clean things up.
We quickly put the room in order, before a soldier comes and knocks on the door, informing us that some food is being prepared down in the old mess hall. Gathering Jude, we set off down to eat, performing a further exploration of the old fort as we go. It becomes increasingly clear that it's seen far better days. Certain areas are so poorly maintained as to be a hazard, blocks threatening to fall from the walls, staircases suggesting they may collapse at any moment, vocalising their intention through heavy groans with each passing foot.
They're immediately marked as off-limits for Titans, and anyone of the sheer weight and size of Perses. Other parts are cordoned off completely, one of the watchtowers in particular too far gone to even bother trying to restore. Other areas, meanwhile, are noted down as in need of repair, including large parts of the walls, and even the main gate looking south. A second gate, accessible to the north, is in better condition, though it's hardly much larger than a big double door.
All in all, there's plenty for the men to be getting on with. As we all begin to gather for dinner, the mess hall capable of accommodating all of us, Commander Hendricks and Secretary Burns set about dividing the soldiers into units, giving them different tasks for the days to come.
Some will be building and restoring. Others will be mapping the local area. Others still will be charged with venturing further towards Olympus itself, small units of scouts sent in to try to ascertain where any weak points might be in the outer walls.
I listen as we eat, noticing Perses sitting to one side, looking like he's not agreeing with all points being made. For my part, though, it all sounds fair. While Perses may reiterate the fact that the city of Olympus is impenetrable, a c
rack team of Neoroman scouts might just see things differently. They are, after all, far more accustomed to large scale warfare and sieges. Looking at the outer battlements of the city through a new, foreign lens might just help. And when their Emperor and army arrive, they'll be able to feed back what they know, using personal, firsthand accounts of what they've seen.
The subject of Ares and his forward team is also brought up, one that remains on all of our minds. We're nearing the end of the fifth day since they departed now, a fact that is just starting to become a concern. As their fate is discussed, it's proposed that they've been killed. The Neoromans, who make up a large proportion of the gathering, call out and dismiss the option.
"Ares would never let that happen," their standing commander here, a captain called Crastus, tells us. He stands from his seat, hands planted to the table, his words delivering without a shade or shadow of doubt. "If he is late, it is for a reason. He does not know how to die."
His men, some two hundred of them, cheer at his words, banging their mugs on the wood.
"And does he know how to get himself captured?" asks Hendricks bluntly in return. "It's possible Ares and his team failed in their mission to retrieve Brie, and were taken themselves as a result."
"Not likely, Commander" calls out Crastus loudly. "Ares is as wise as he is strong. He would never allow for such a thing."
"Then where is he, Captain Crastus? Do you have an answer for that?"
"Of course I do not," Crastus responds. "I have no answer, but I do have trust." He calls the final word out loudly, the Neoromans cheering again.
I see Hendricks all but roll his eyes. He looks to Burns, standing beside him.
"Would you, perhaps, be willing to send out a team to search for them?" Burns asks, looking to Crastus. "I'm sure you're right, and they'll return soon. But there's no harm in sending a few good men forward to see if they can track his whereabouts."
