by Heath Pfaff
"Where do you think it came from?" I asked him after a moment of silence. His black eyes shifted to mine.
"I think our friends from the Old Boy brought this monster with them when they came." He stated it as obvious, and I shook my head in negative, not agreeing with the older Broken Sword.
"We didn't see it when they attacked, and surely if they had such an ally with them they would have used it when they sacked our boat." I told him my own conclusions, hoping he would see the reasoning as clearly as I did.
"Unless the creature was their boat, Noble." I flinched at his words, almost as if he'd physically hit me. "Think of the craft they traveled on, how it seemed to be made of bone and flesh, and you didn't see the figure head, but it was like the head of a great drake. I think they've formed some type of bond with the monster, and used its body as a craft to cross the deep seas into places normal ships shouldn't sail."
Brutal's theory was strange, but it had its merits. I had, indeed, never seen a boat such as the one our adversary at sea had piloted, and it did explain where the giant monster had come from. A few things, though, seemed not to fit into Brutal's theory.
"What about the cannons that were mounted in the hull of the enemy ship, and what of the sails?" I asked, remembering the deadly accuracy with which those cannons had been fired only too clearly, and the glow of the blue fire against the fabric of the sails.
Brutal shook his head. "You're not thinking things through clearly, boy. Those weren't sails, but wings bent above the deck and held in place to harness the wind for sailing, and red drakes can shoot fire, so maybe they've harnessed that ability to their advantage as well, and used the drake's fire for cannons."
"Alright, I'll concede the point about the wings," I said after a moment, trying to recall the actual shape of the "sails" but not being able to. "But that just raises more questions. If the creature has wings, why not fly across the sea? ...and what of the cannons that fired from the rear? Certainly there is no drake that shoots fire from its rear?" Doubt still remained to me, possibly because I didn't wish to accept such a terrible truth, or possibly because I had always been one to be filled with questions. Kye had once told me that was an aspect of my personality she liked. I smiled to myself, despite the situation, when I remembered her.
"We could not see the cannons that fired at us clearly, so I can't say for certain what truly transpired there, but your other questions is much easier to answer. Black Drakes have wings but don't fly. They're too large to get their massive bodies off the ground with their small wings. They can glide for short periods of time, but they must travel on the ground for the most part. That is why they've been hunted nearly to extinction in these lands," Brutal explained.
It made sense, though there was still no sure answer. We were guessing at things that we did not fully understand. "Where did they go after they finished with the townspeople?" I voiced my next thought.
"I don't know how long they were here, but when they'd finished with the town, I'd say no more than a day ago, maybe a little less, they returned to sea," Brutal walked down the beach, pointing to another huge set of tracks that seemed to be facing off into the ocean. "They'd obtained whatever they hoped to get here, and left the way they came." He paused for a moment before adding. "I don't suppose you've changed your mind about going north before heading south to report to Lucidil?"
I shook my head firmly. I still needed to get to Kye, perhaps more so than I had before. I didn't know what danger was coming from the ocean, but I wanted to make sure Kyeia was safe no matter what. "We'll finish our mission, and then secure transit south as fast as possible." I told the black-eyed warrior, knowing that my 'command' was only valid so long as he allowed it to be.
Brutal shrugged his massive shoulders, "Alright, we'll do things your way. This situation though," he waved his hand at the devastation behind us, "is getting more and more chaotic. Trouble is stalking us like a hungry predator."
I nodded my agreement, not sure what else to say about the horrors we had witnessed that day or Brutal's bleak statement, "Do you have any idea how far north we have left to go?" I asked, hoping he would have been able to make some judgment based upon the village, despite its traumatized state.
"We're back inside human lands, but I'd not say by very far. You can tell by the fortifications the town's folk had erected about their village." Indeed, the town had once been well fortified for such a small village, but the walls now lay in ruin. "That means we still have a long trip north to make, but if we push ourselves we should be able to make it in just outside a week. We still have a difficult river to cross, though, and that will prove a challenge, especially with our sneaky friend missing."
I nodded once more, a foolish thought occurring to me. I would need to warn the king's men of the danger coming from the sea. It was an irrational thing for me to want to do, since I was no longer allied with king, but the king and his men might be able to create a defensive line at the shore if they were aware of what was coming. What other hope did we really have? I didn't know how many of these strange people from across the ocean would come, or how many of their giant drake-ships would sail to our shores, but I knew that if they came afield without opposition, they would be much harder to fend off. To me, that meant I would have to find some way of warning the king, despite the fact that I was an enemy to the crown, and despite the fact that Brutal would certainly not allow me to freely do so. Life had a way of growing ever more complicated.
We finished searching the town, gathering what few supplies we could find amidst the wreckage. We managed to scrounge replacement scabbards, and the proper gear to clean and treat our badly abused weapons. Travel supplies were more difficult to come by, but with our battle gear in working condition, I believe we both felt more secure, though we would have felt even better had we been able to replace the body armor that we'd lost to the depths of the ocean. I'd turned away completely, I realized as I finished taking care of my sword, from how I'd begun life. My days of being a bookkeeper were behind me. I was now a man of the sword like all the other Knights of Ethan and Broken Swords, and there was no denying the change in me. I felt most comfortable with a sword at my hip and my shifting cloak about my shoulders. Lowin the lorekeeper's apprentice was gone, and Noble the Broken Sword had come into his own, whether I was happy about it or not.
We traveled night and day, stopping rarely to sleep or rest. The miles fell away as we made our course northward, avoiding populated areas to the best of our ability. Always I kept my eyes open and ears alert for a chance to give warning to the men of the king, so that they might know of the enemy from across the sea. Coming from one who was to all appearances a member of their Black-Eyed Devils, perhaps they would take my words seriously, and see that my message reached someone in a position to do something about my warning. The opportunity, though, had not yet arisen for me to send word. Brutal was intent upon making our journey as fast and stealthy as possible. The few times we did stop, we did so to hunt for game or to make a brief stop in a small town to buy supplies. The towns, for the most part, went out of their way to appear empty as we entered, but Brutal was ever able to coerce the people into selling him what was needed for our time on the road. They, of course, begrudged him every item he bought, but he always paid more than the going rate for what he took, and I respected his ability to keep his cool in front of the people. In that way, he seemed like a great contrast to the violent tempered Lucidil, who had destroyed an entire shop, and possibly dispatched the owners, simply because they angered him. I wondered, and not for the first time, why the often gruff natured fighter had been given the name 'Brutal' when it only fit his outward attitude.
Though I respected Brutal, and learned much from him as we traveled, there was always a tension between us, a hostility that bubbled just beneath the surface of the truce thrust upon us by Lucidil. He was ever eager to teach and talk as we went, showing me the best ways to get the most from my weapons, both claw and sword, and teaching me how
to use my body's natural talents in ingenious ways, but his lessons were always tinged with his dislike of me. Brutal, for all that he was not a bad person, was the instrument of his ruler, Weaver, and did not wish to make important decisions for himself. He was a man who did not want to be a leader, but a strong follower, and he did it well. Privately I considered him a more apt leader than the man he followed, but Brutal scoffed at such ideas and became agitated any time I hinted at such a truth. I knew that I, with my unusual strength and ability, nettled the older warrior by the pure act of my existence. He saw potential in me, but he also viewed me as a direct threat to his position in Lucidil's army, despite the fact that I wanted nothing to do with the rebel leader or his plans. Things between Brutal and me remained civil, but our sparring matches were heated, warmed by the fire of an animosity sparked by our vastly different views of the world. Brutal was my companion on my journey to retrieve Kye, but I was certain there would come a time when we would stand on opposite sides of the field of battle. I also knew that when that time came, one of us would have to die, because if we both were to live we would only come together again and again to fight. I trained hard with the experienced warrior, and every time he had the best of me in our matches. He was always a step ahead in his strategy. He always had one more trick up his sleeve that I couldn't account for. I learned, and was a far better swordsman and general fighting man for it, but he was ever my superior.
We were a little over a week on the road before we finally reached the Iol Adjot river valley. We crested the top of a large hill and below us only a few miles away a massive river flowed, white and frothing in its haste to cut a path through the land. I had never seen the great Iol Adjot, and so it took me by surprise just how immense the river was. Many times I had heard rivers described as "ribbons of water laid upon the land," but if a normal river was a ribbon, this one was a sash, two to three times wider than any I'd seen before. I understood, as I stared out over that violent run of water, how the Iol Adjot had stood as a natural border between two neighboring peoples for so long before either had attempted to encroach upon the other's lands. Few men could ever wish to lead an army across such a swift flow.
"Now comes the most difficult portion of our journey; we must find a way across the river, and with any luck, one that will see us alive on the other side," Brutal said, pulling my attention away from the hypnotic surge of the water.
Looking at the mighty river I was at a complete loss for ideas as to how we might get across. The project that would be involved in simply creating a rope drawn ferry would be dangerous enough that I doubted anyone would have bothered. Making a little bit of cash to ferry folks across the river wasn't worth risking your life to the white rapids of the Iol Adjot. My attention shifted to the fortified bridge that stood at the end of the road on which Brutal and I were standing, a massive stone structure wide enough to ride six carriages abreast that stretched the expansive width of the river. It stood as a testament to the skills of whoever had designed it, and more than likely, I thought, a monument to those who must have died in its construction. Each end of the bridge had a tall gate structure with a wall that stretched out some fifty feet to either side of the entrance along the edge of the river. I guessed that these structures housed a barracks so that the bridge could be guarded both night and day and replenished with fresh men as needed. The gate itself stood over thirty feet tall and looked to be made of heavy forged iron, the same material used in the portcullises of many fortresses. With a gate set at either end of the bridge, even if an enemy force made it through one, they would have to break through the second gate and would be forced to launch an attack on the relatively narrow span of the bridge, which would be risky under any circumstances. It was a brilliant defensive structure, and therein lay the majority of our problems.
From our distance, it was difficult to make out exactly how many men were on watch in the valley below, but I could make out the telltale traces of movement enough to know that the number was considerable, at least at the gate nearest us, and I guessed the numbers would be equal on the other side of the river. Despite Brutal's bluster about us attacking head on, and that had been when we still had Silent with us, I wasn't sure it was possible for three, and almost certainly not two, Broken Swords to fight their way through both of the fortified positions. However, it seemed equally unlikely that we would find another way across the river any time soon.
"Perhaps the other bridge isn't so heavily guarded." I suggested, remembering that there were two such bridges across the Iol Adjot, but Brutal shook his head.
"That's the north bridge. It runs closer to the capital, Kreo. That bridge will be more heavily guarded than this one," he stated, sounding indifferent. The older warrior didn't seem fazed by the number of guards, or the amount of fortification at the bridge, leading me to believe that he had known if not exactly, then approximately, what we would find upon reaching this point. Silence descended upon us for a time.
"We're going to have to go straight through," Brutal said after a few moments.
"That would be suicide. There are too many of them." I replied, but while the words were true, there was no real weight behind them. We didn't have any other option that I could see.
"Indeed," he replied, surprising me with his candor. "So I guess we'll just have to fight better than normal. I'm up to it, you?"
I looked at my travel companion, and noted the way his black eyes sparkled with seeming glee. He was honestly looking forward to the fight, though I couldn't guess why. "I'd better be," I said, trying to instill confidence in my voice. This would be my first fight against humans, and the thought sickened me a little. I didn't have any desire to kill men who were fighting for what they believed in. I could walk away, I realized, and leave my mission behind. I didn't have to do what I was setting myself up to do, but what would happen to Kyeia then?
"This is war, Noble. People die in wars, and those soldiers didn't train to be fighting men so that they could live long and peaceful lives," Brutal said, as if reading the reason for my hesitance in my expression. "I don't pretend to understand what you're fighting for, but if it is important enough to have brought you this far, isn't it important enough to take you the rest of the way?"
I thought about that for some time before nodding. Kyeia was important enough to fight all the armies of the world. I hoped it wouldn't come to that, but I could not rest while her future was uncertain. "You're right," I said quietly, taking a deep breath to settle my nerves. "Let's go."
"Not so fast." Brutal said, putting a hand on my shoulder just as I was about to take my first step down the road. "We're not going to walk the road, and we're not going to attack while there is still light. Why give the enemy all the advantage? We will make our way through the woods, in the dark, when we are most difficult to see, and we will come upon them like hungry phantoms in the night and devour their numbers before they even know what has befallen them."
The older warrior was good at maintaining a level head, and better at finding a way to turn any situation to his advantage. Again I found myself thankful that he was with me. Had I been by myself, I don't know what I might have done to try and get across the river, but I probably would not have been successful. With Brutal, I at least stood some chance, though I didn't doubt it would be a hard fight, one that bordered on the impossible. The older warrior turned to the tree line and started for it, moving down the hill into the valley as he did so. I followed him in the relative darkness of the deep woods, and together we traced a path toward our target. As we drew nearer, the sound of the river became louder and louder, and I realized, with some satisfaction that the chaotic rumble of the water cutting through the rock would also be an advantage to us when we attacked. Not only would we be nearly invisible in our cloaks, but the noise would make us impossible to detect audibly. The bridge was only twenty feet above the water, and so would be blanketed in the roar of the river.
We found a safe place to bide our time, spying on the fortifica
tions throughout the day. The guards did not come to the outside of the bridge at all. There were two towers on either side of the gate, one from each side facing out in either direction. These were manned with three archers each, for a total of twelve archers. Just beyond the first portcullis, for the gate on our side of the river had two, stood six armed and armored guards, and beyond them stood more, though they were hard to identify from our place of concealment in the woods. The guards changed out every four hours like clockwork, and there was never a moment when the numbers seemed to lessen. What lay beyond the gates was anyone's guess, but there were no external doors to the wall or gate that Brutal or I could make out, only the portcullis provided access to the other bridge beyond. There did seem to be doors into the walls between the first portcullis and the second, but getting even that far would be a challenge if the guards never raised the gate.
"What are the odds of them opening the gate to allow travelers through?" I asked Brutal after we'd watched the gate with little action for several hours.
"The area beyond the bridge is still considered contested territory. Only those with the express permission of the king can pass through. We could wait here for weeks or months without another soul passing this way," came the disappointing answer. I had thought to sneak through when the gate opened, or to at least to pierce the first portcullis without needing to fight, but it seemed that such an opportunity was unlikely. We did not have months of time to spend waiting for someone to open the gate for us.
"How are we to get past the wall?" I asked, looking at the intimidating gate that barred our path.
"We'll scale it." Brutal answered.
My eyes opened wide. "The hand holds appear few and far between, and that wall must be nearly forty feet high. If we are seen in mid climb, we will be defenseless."
"Well, if that isn't motivation to move carefully, then I don't know what is." Brutal's tone held a sardonic edge that angered me. "Unless, of course, you've thought of a better way to get through two layers of cast iron portcullis, and several groups of sentries?"
