He saw Axethane Bran standing in the center of the pass, an axe in each hand. There were two ogres in front of him, and he was dodging and deflecting swings from both of them. The other dwarves were engaged with about six additional ogres. Captain Kallen knew he had to help Bran. He increased his speed, but before he could reach the front, he saw Bran move between the two massive giants. Both swung at him, with rage-twisted faces, only to find themselves striking each other. So focused on him were they, that they had forgotten about each other. Swords clanged together as Bran hamstrung each on his way passed. Both beasts fell to their knees, and Kallen saw the head of the one on the left go spinning off into the distance. The other managed to clip Bran on his left arm near the shoulder, sending him flying about ten feet towards Kallen. The Captain leapt over Bran and ducked under the sword stroke aimed at his head. He took a two handed grip on his axe and swung it down on the ogre’s sword arm, severing it near the middle of the forearm. The ogre threw his head back and roared in pain. Kallen darted forward and buried his axe in its groin, yanking his axe free and sidestepping as the blow caused the ogre to convulse and topple forward. As the ogre hit the ground, Kallen took its head off with a single, powerful swing of his axe. He looked around and saw that the other dwarves had taken down the rest of the fiends and were standing around panting and bleeding.
Kallen looked to where Bran had fallen and saw that the Axethane had not moved. He lay on his back, both his axes nearby, but he made no effort to reach them. Kallen cried out for help and ran over to him. He dropped down on his knees beside Bran. He could see that Bran was still breathing. Several of the links on his chainmail, where the huge sword had hit him, were crushed. The arm underneath was swollen and lay at an unnatural angle. Although broken, there was no blood on the arm. The fine dwarven chainmail had saved Bran from having his arm and possibly half of his chest laid open from the powerful blow. The other dwarves gathered around. While Bran was still unconscious, Captain Kallen straightened the arm and bound it to his side with strips of cloth that Kale tore from the bottom of his own cloak. Once the arm was immobilized, Captain Kallen ordered several of the dwarves to pick up the Axethane and carry him inside the gates. He posted ten dwarves to guard the shattered portal, and then directed the others to carry Bran to a bed chamber further inside the complex.
As they lay Bran down on a cot, he groaned and his eyes flickered open. He drew in a sharp breath through clenched teeth as the pain of his injury finally registered with his waking mind. His eyes darted around the chamber and found Captain Kallen and Kale standing nearby.
"What happened? Are they all dead?" Bran asked.
"Aye, Axethane. We have won the day. The West Gate is ours once more," Captain Kallen informed him.
Bran tried to sit up, but Kale restrained him with a hand on his good shoulder.
"Lie still. Your left arm has been broken. Captain Kallen set it and bound it, but it will not want jostling."
Bran nodded then looked up at Kale in surprise.
"I thought I had lost you. I saw you hit and go down."
Kale twitched a grin at him.
"I thought you had too, but Dain was right there and managed to put me back together. See?" Kale said, holding open his mangled chainmail at his shoulder.
"Good as new."
Bran could see a pink line extending down over Kale’s collarbone about six inches.
Captain Kallen grunted in the affirmative.
"The lad showed some mettle out there today. Both of my legs were crushed from a hammer blow. Took the haft across both thighs, but as you can see, I also am as good as new. He saved Pace’s life out there as well."
"Where is Dain? Is he all right?" Bran asked, suddenly worried for the boy.
"Aye, he’s fine, Axethane. He healed until he collapsed. I had Pace bring him back here to rest. He could do no more in his condition. When he wakes, I will send him in to tend to you. For now, you will have to make do with my fumbling ministrations. I straightened the arm and bound it, but the blow you took may have crushed the bone. It will take a healer to fix it properly."
Bran tried to relax, but the pain in his arm was intense.
"Thank you, Captain. I appreciate the effort." His stare grew cold, and he fixed it on the stone ceiling above him.
"Do we have the numbers?"
"Not yet, Axethane. We are just returned from the battlefield, and the wounded are still being tended. I will go and see to the report now," Captain Kallen answered.
"Please do that, Captain. Make sure the defenses are tight and that the men eat and rest. We do not know when we may have to make another stand. Send for a crew of Delvers. I want those gates fixed and reinforced as quickly as possible, and have them add another set on the vale side of the mustering chamber. That will give us a secondary hold if it becomes necessary."
"It shall be done, Axethane," Captain Kallen confirmed, thumping his right fist over his heart. He turned and strode from the chamber.
Kale pulled a chair over to the bedside and sat down. He handed Bran a flask.
"Here. Drink some of this. It will help take the edge off the pain."
Bran took it, and raised his head a bit in order to drink. The movement caused him considerable pain, but he took a long drink from the flask. The liquid burned going down causing him to cough several times as he handed the flask back to Kale. Bran grimaced and shook his head.
"How do you drink that vile swill? It goes down like dragon fire."
Kale chuckled.
"Mighty Axethane you may be, but you have always been a lightweight when it comes to drinking."
"I would not call that drinking. That rot is worse than Kara’s biscuits."
"I will tell her you said that," Kale replied raising an eyebrow at Bran.
"You do, and I will deny every word."
"She would believe you, too. She always did take your side."
"Serves you right for telling the poor woman her biscuits could be used for forge hammers." Bran admonished him lightly, happy to see that Kale seemed to be accepting him again as a friend and not just as Axethane.
"You know it’s true. You just said so yourself," Kale replied indignantly.
"I said no such thing, and you cannot prove it."
Kale chuckled.
"I don’t know why she puts up with you," Bran stated.
"It’s my looks," Kale said deliberately trying to smooth back his blond hair.
Bran burst out laughing and immediately regretted the act as a flare of pain shot up his shoulder.
"Your looks, huh? Well, if she could see you right now, she would probably throw you in CarvenLake. You’re a mess."
Kale ran his hand down his beard, and realized it was stiff with dried blood, and his whole left side was covered as well. He made a displeased face.
"Aye, she would at that. Will you be all right for a bit? I really do need to go get cleaned up."
"Aye, I will be fine. Before you go, though, could I have another swig of that marsh sludge you call whiskey?"
Kale handed him the flask, and he took another long drink from it. This time he just made a sour face instead of coughing. Bran handed it back.
"Thanks. After you get cleaned up, why don’t you get something to eat, and then go get some rest? Captain Kallen can handle things for a while, and I am not going anywhere until after Dain has had a look at my arm."
"I’ll do that. I will be back to check on you before I go to my cot."
Bran nodded to him and closed his eyes. He heard Kale’s footsteps as he walked away. A few minutes passed as he lay there reliving the battle in his mind.
"You cannot let the death of one dwarf, no matter how dear to you, affect your judgment. I cannot help nor guide you if you let your rage take over so completely. When you thought Kale had been slain, you rushed headlong into the fray, with no regard for your own safety. Your death would assure the death of more than just your friend. You, alive, can potentially save many lives. Do NOT let
your anger control your actions. On that path lies death, and not just for you," the voice rebuked him.
"Seeing him go down like that, I lost it. I know I should not have, but Kale is the closest thing I have to family. I wanted them to pay for his death in blood," Bran thought in reply.
"The only way to achieve vengeance is to live long enough to carry it out. Remember, I can only help you if you let me."
Bran understood.
"I apologize. I will try not to let it happen again."
"Good."
Bran waited, but the voice had fallen silent. He tried again to relax. He could feel the whiskey starting to do its job. A warm, slightly detached feeling settled over him. Kale was correct. He was indeed a lightweight when it came to whiskey. Bran thought of Dain. The wound that Kale took should have ended his life. He had never heard of a healer being able to mend so severe an injury. By all rights, if not dead, Kale should be unconscious from the blood loss alone, but he had been up and walking and talking.
Bran heard light footsteps enter his room. They moved slowly, obviously thinking him asleep. Someone was moving cautiously, trying not to wake him. Bran opened his eyes when he heard Dain’s voice. He was speaking in low tones to someone else.
"I thought you were asleep, Dain," Bran said.
The boy straightened his gray tunic. He had taken to wearing the healer’s tunic over his chain vest. Bran initially tried to discourage him, thinking it made him a readily identifiable target, but Dain insisted that he would be instantly recognizable to the men as well. Bran had acquiesced, but only with the provision that Dain wear his chainmail under it. Dain cleared his throat.
"I am sorry, Axethane. I did not mean to wake you."
"You didn’t, lad. I was not yet asleep," Bran assured him. He raised his head a bit and saw another dwarf standing behind Dain. It was Pace.
"Pace, I am glad you are here. I was going to have you summoned later anyway."
"Axethane," Pace said bowing.
"I have a special assignment for you, if you would be willing to undertake it."
"Anything you wish, Axethane."
"I would like to assign you permanently to Dain, as his personal guard. I want two dwarves, at all times, to be with him, especially on the battlefield. He must be protected. I would do it myself, but being anywhere near me on a battlefield is too dangerous."
Pace’s face brightened.
"I would be most honored, Axethane."
Bran raised his head again to look at Pace.
"It will mean you will not be in the main fights. You will be giving up a position in the vanguard in order to keep him safe. You will go where he goes, no matter where that is. You will defend him while he heals, and aid him when he needs it. He will still have to answer to you," Bran said now eyeing Dain.
"I would have you protect him from himself as well. If a situation is too dangerous to his person, I do not want him anywhere near it. Is that understood?"
"Aye, Axethane, it is understood." Pace smiled.
Bran continued to look at Dain. The boy looked surprisingly rested for only having had about an hour's rest.
"Shouldn’t you still be resting? Captain Kallen said you collapsed out there."
Dain flushed in embarrassment.
"I apologize for that, Axethane. I do not yet have the stamina of a fully trained, battle healer." Dain hung his head.
"If I did, I might have been able to save more of our men."
"I am told you saved a great many of them. Do not hold any blame, lad. We can each only do what we can. As Axethane, I cannot save all my men. As healer, neither can you. It is war, and in war there are casualties. Place the blame where it belongs, on the enemy. For if they had not attacked, those dwarves would still be alive."
"I know that is meant to make me feel better, but it does not. I still feel I let everyone down," Dain said softly.
"Welcome to the real world, lad. Now you know how I feel as well. When you are given the power to make a difference, it never feels like you can do enough. No matter how well I fight, no matter how many of the enemy I kill, it is never enough to keep them from killing some of us. That makes us alike. The difference is that you can save some of those that I cannot. Between the both of us, hopefully, we can save as many as possible."
Dain raised his head to look at Bran.
"I will do my best, Axethane."
"That is all any of us could ask." He turned his head once again to Pace.
"Can you find another to help guard Dain?" Bran asked.
Pace nodded.
"That should not be a problem, Axethane. Dain here saved many of us today. The problem will be in only finding one."
Dain reddened again.
"I was only doing what I could. I wish it had been more."
"Wishing gains us nothing. You did all you could. Take comfort in the ones you were able to save. I am sure many who died today would have been beyond your ability to help even had the time been available to you. Now, go get some rest so you can see to my arm," Bran ordered.
"That is the reason I am here, Axethane. I knew you had been hurt," Dain cocked his head and stared far off.
"I am not entirely certain how I knew, but I knew. So I got up and came as soon as I could."
"You should rest first and then see if there are others that require your aid. I am sure there are those in greater need than I."
"I am sufficiently rested, and there are no others in greater need than you. I have checked already. Most are minor cuts and bruises. Let me do what I have come to do, and I can then tend to the others."
"I am fine, lad, see to the men first."
Dain smiled.
"Don’t make me pull rank, Axethane. You may be the leader in the field and in the war council, but in the hospitals, I am the authority. Now, let me do my job so you can get back to yours."
Bran’s mouth fell open in shock, and then he started to laugh. He cut it short when the pain shot up his shoulder again. To be commanded by this slip of a dwarf was startling, but he knew Dain spoke the truth. The healers were in command when it came to the wounded.
"Very well, Healer. I am in your hands."
Dain approached and placed one hand on Bran’s shoulder and the other on his wrist. He closed his eyes and opened himself to the injury. The bone was completely crushed just down from the shoulder. They had pulled the arm straight and bound it, but that was not going to help.
"Pace, could you give me a hand again, please?"
Pace moved forward.
"Sure, Dain. What do you want me to do?"
Without opening his eyes, Dain replied.
"I need you to unbind the arm while I try to mend it. It is pulled too far out of place."
Pace removed a dagger from his belt and started cutting through the strips of cloth that bound Bran’s arm to his side.
"Leave only the one at the elbow," Dain instructed him.
"Ok."
Bran had to clench his teeth to keep from making any noise as Pace cut the bindings loose. Even though Pace was gentle, he could not help but jar the arm somewhat as he worked. Bran didn’t want to distract Dain from his healing, so he closed his eyes and tried not to think about the pain.
"That’s all of them except the one at the elbow, Dain," Pace said once all the other bindings had been cut away.
Dain merely nodded once and then his body went rigid. Bran felt warmth on his arm where Dain’s hands were, and opened his eyes to look. He could not see anything, but Dain’s face was twisted with pain. Bran felt the pain in his arm intensify, and he nearly cried out. But then the pain began to lessen, slowly at first, then with increasing speed. Finally, the pain was gone completely. He saw Dain’s face relax, and they both almost simultaneously took a deep breath and released it with sighs of relief. Dain removed his hands and stepped back. Bran tentatively sat up and flexed his fingers, feeling no pain. He slowly bent the elbow, still no pain. He pulled his own dagger and cut the final binding. Bran rota
ted his shoulder. Finding no discomfort, he smiled and looked over at Dain.
"Very good job, Dain, or should I say, Healer Dain. I cannot even tell it was broken." Bran swung his legs over the side of the cot and stood up. He glanced around and saw his axes propped against the wall near the head of the cot. He picked up both and hung them at his sides. Since he had become Axethane, Bran had taken to using two large one-handed axes instead of his usual two-hander. He found it more efficient in battle and a lot of the techniques the Axethane had made known to him required the two axe fighting style. Bran was instructing the men on the style, but they were slow to pick it up. It required the use of the off hand and proficiency was only slowly built there.
"You should go tend to the men. I have to see to the defenses."
"That I shall do, now that you are taken care of," Dain assured him.
"Pace, see to getting another to help guard him. I want two Forgers with him at all times before another hour has passed."
"I will see to it, Axethane," Pace said bowing.
"I will see you two at breakfast then," Bran said walking from the room. Pace and Dain followed him out. They turned a corner and found Captain Kallen walking purposefully towards them.
"Axethane, I have the report you wanted," Captain Kallen informed him.
"So what were the numbers, Captain?" Bran asked slightly apprehensive.
"One hundred and eighty six ogres slain. The countsman says three got away. Of our original company, we lost six. That number would have been over three times that amount if it had not been for Dain. Commander File lost twenty one in the first engagement and only two after we joined up with him. His men managed to take out eleven of the enemy in the first battle before they were routed. He tells me that, at the onset, there were five hundred ogres. He knows that only a hundred and eighty nine came against us this time. His concerns mirror my own. What became of the other three hundred? I feel we may not have seen the main battle yet," Captain Kallen remarked.
"Thank you, Captain. What of the Gates? Are the repairs underway?"
"Aye, Axethane. They are proceeding as we speak. I have the men guarding the gate portal, ten at a time, rotating out every hour so they can rest."
The Chronicles of the Myrkron: Book 01 - The Nine Keys of Magic Page 31
