“Yes sir!” answered Wint.
“Sire.” said Brelg. “How will these men be fed at the palace?”
“The supply staff will be informed of their whereabouts. Rations for thirty five will be delivered to the palace every three days. I’ll personally draft the order.”
Several of the men eyed one another cautiously.
“What is it, Osly?” asked Manfir.
“Well sir.” mumbled Osly shifting on his feet. “The order may go through to the supply staff, but that don’t necessarily mean they’ll abide by it, sir. In the past we’ve had to make deals to get the rations allotted us.”
“That type of business is at an end Osly. A man cannot fight if he is uncertain where his next meal will come from.” said Manfir as he turned to Brelg. “I’ve recently entrusted the management of the supply staff to a former militia man from the little known town of Kelky in the South.”
“Ipson the tanner?” whispered the sergeant with a smile.
“The former militia captain wasn’t much good with a blade in his hands.” laughed Manfir. “But a more honest and hardworking man you’ll not find in the kingdom. “
“I pity the poor haulers now.” laughed Brelg. “Ipson kept his tannery in perfect order. He kept his ledgers as if he were the king’s treasurer. Everything was accounted for and everything had its place. From now forward not one grain of wheat will go missing.”
“When I saw him marching through the city with a contingent of Kelky men, I knew immediately who would be running the supply staff.” said Manfir.
“What of Udas’s men?” asked Brelg.
“Most were vetted from the supply staff.” replied Manfir. “Some were reassigned within its ranks, but many chose service in the corps over the dungeons of my father.”
Manfir turned back to the men in the room.
“Well, you have your orders and I have work to do, gentlemen.” said Manfir. “Next time I see you, I hope to see a smartly dressed, professional military unit.”
“Thank you, sir.” said Osly and the other men in the room reiterated the gratitude.
Manfir nodded his head and marched from the room followed closely by Brelg. The pair moved down the hall and turned into the yard. The recruits pushed many of the obstacles to the sides of the open space and practiced their archery. The heavy clang of hammer on anvil echoed through the yard as Manfir moved into the open.
“It seems that you’ve been very busy.” said Brelg.
Manfir frowned.
“I’ve taken control of our supply line difficulties and our manpower crisis.” said the prince. “But men are no good without weaponry. The South should provide us with enough food in the coming months, but they’re woefully deficit in armor and blade. Many of the steel these men travel with is useless. Relics from the wars of their grandfathers.”
“I may be able to help on that front.” smiled the sergeant.
Manfir furrowed his brow and looked to the sergeant questioningly. Brelg walked across the yard and motioned the prince to follow.
“I discarded many of the weapons that arrived here onto the slag heap.” stated Brelg as he moved toward the ever loudening clang of steel. “But then a man arrived at the gate of the Hold and offered his services. He works magic upon many of the old blades and renders them quite serviceable.”
Manfir looked up to see smoke and steam swirling out of the small smithy contained within the Hold. A shirtless, sweat covered man sporting a heavy leather jerkin stood with his muscled back to the yard. He raised and lowered the head of a bulky hammer onto the glowing length of a broadsword. The sword rang out loud and clear each time the head of the hammer fell upon it and sprayed sparks across the man’s waist.
After a moment the smith inspected his work then stabbed the blade back into the flames of the forge. A sweating recruit furiously pumped the bellows. The smith paused and lifted a dirty rag to his brow to wipe away the sweat as the heat of the forge grew in the blade. When the blade glowed like the surface of the sun, the smith drew it out and laid it upon the flat of the anvil. A moment later the loud clang began as the smith threw the heavy hammer up and down upon the blade’s edge.
After ten strokes of the hammer, the heaving smith let the tool fall to the ground as he bent over to catch his breath.
“Goodman smith, I need enough weaponry to strike the fear of almighty Avra into our enemies?” called Manfir.
The smith slowly rose and grabbed the handle of the glowing blade. He inspected his workmanship once more then turned to face Manfir and Brelg.
“If you continue to remove the fear of the Ulrog from the hearts of our militia,” said the smith. “Then they’ll put the fear of Avra in our enemies with or without my weaponry.”
A broad smile crept across Manfir’s face. The prince took several powerful strides toward the smith as his hand shot out in greeting.
“Who minds the forge and bellows in the good town of Quay?” asked Manfir. “And what became of my Elven companion’s bag of gold, Master Hindle?”
Hindle reached out and took the prince’s hand in a firm grip.
“What good is a blacksmith shop if you’re bound in Ulrog chains of slavery?” shrugged Hindle. “I’ve set the gold aside and will open a smithy when this business in the North is put behind us. For now, Master Chombi resumes his place as Quay’s blacksmith.”
“Chombi?” questioned Manfir suspiciously.
“I’m aware of Lord Teeg’s problem with my former employer.” said Hindle. “However, I believe the man changed.”
“Oh?” said Manfir quizzically. “And what have you decided for yourself?”
“When last we spoke, I said I would never face the enemy.” said Hindle. “But since that time I grew to realize that I’m no different than the militiamen who stream through Quay. These men left home and family to head North and fight for my safety. I’m not trained in warfare but I have skills to offer.”
“And what of Chombi?” asked Manfir.
“ I fully intended to set up my own smithy as we discussed. Then I realized that raising myself up was the easy part, but to raise another at my own expense proved the hard task.” said Hindle smiling deeply. “I’ve always held an affinity for the difficult task.”
“Were you successful?” asked Manfir.
“Chombi hasn’t touched the bottle in the three weeks before my departure.” replied Hindle. “His hands grow steady and with it his skills return. The pot handles and plows of the sleepy town of Quay are in capable hands. As for the saber and broadsword of the Hold, I shall try my best.”
“Do you have what you need?” asked Manfir.
“What I’ve been able to salvage from the armory, I repaired to good stead.” said Hindle. “The weapons dragged from the South in the hands of farm boys are a different story. Many may last one or two encounters, but the steel is old, rusted and weak. To sharpen a simple edge on some of these weapons causes them to to snap or grow far to thin. We will grow short of weapons after the second major encounter.”
Manfir furrowed his brow and stared into the blazing flames of the forge.
“What of battle-ax and cleaver?” stated Manfir.
“Pardon?” asked Hindle.
“In the field.” said Manfir. “Will you be able to repair and improve the weapons of the enemy.”
“I can repair and improve anything made of metal, my lord.” said Hindle confidently.
“Excellent.” said Manfir turning to Brelg. “We must start training in the use of both battle-ax and cleaver. We’ll form scavenger parties of those men without weapons. Any fallen enemy must be stripped of their weapons. I want our men prepared to use those weapons as soon as they are thrust upon them.”
Brelg stroked his salty beard and frowned.
“Soldiers are superstitious of using a dead man’s blade let alone one retrieved from the enemy.” said Brelg.
“Then you’ll convince them that their superstitions are lunacy.” said Manfir. “We are alr
eady outnumbered. We cannot allow ridiculous notions to leave our men unarmed.”
“I will do my best.” said Brelg. “At the very least I will prepare our men to use these weapons even if I cannot force them into their hands.”
Manfir turned back to Hindle.
“You have much to do, my friend. I’m happy to see you here.”
Manfir slapped the boy upon the back then spun and headed toward the main hallway of the Hold. Hindle smiled and saluted the retreating figure, then grabbed the broadsword laying on the anvil and thrust it back into the white hot forge.
“I need it hotter than the floor of hell.” growled the smith to the recruit pumping the forge’s bellows.
CHAPTER 14: THE POOL AND THE PEDESTAL
Kael woke and stood. As he stretched he saw Nostr standing in the same spot the Ulrog occupied the night before. The Southlander quickly turned away and readied his things.
The group left the camp after a light meal of dried bread. After a few moments on the road , Kael glanced behind and saw the now familiar vision of Nostr steadily trekking behind the group.
“They don’t need to eat, nor do they sleep.” commented Teeg. “You’re getting a rare glimpse into the habits of our enemy. As I’ve said, they’re creatures built for death and destruction.”
The day passed uneventfully as the horses lowered their heads and trudged on into the steady Northwest wind blowing across the scrub land of Northern Zodra. Their hooves kicked up tiny whirlwinds of dust that skittered across the road like hares spooked from cover. Kael took out a handkerchief and tied it around his face. The wind and the grit of the open road left his mouth dry and lips cracked.
“Lord Ader!” called Cefiz. “We’re not far from a known campsite frequented by the Guard. If it’s vacant, the site will make an excellent stopping point this evening.”
Ader nodded his head and motioned to some brush off the path. Sprig darted from behind the brush and raced ahead.
The road before them climbed a great hill straddling its path. To the West of the hill, the land dropped off into a forested valley. To the East, a ridge line ran from the hill toward the heights of a massive stone butte. The butte rose from the scrub land like a giant pedestal, hovering flat-topped over the entire region. It was weathered and beaten and the hill at its feet resulted from ages of rainwater washing into the valley below.
Cefiz smiled.
“I know this place well.” said the lieutenant as his eyes searched the landscape and his mind searched his memories. “We often stopped here on our retreats from the North. There is a pool at the foot of the great rock.”
The party reached the base of the hill and Cefiz dismounted.
“The pool is cradled from the Northwest by the great hill and from the Northeast by the giant stone tower. It will provide fresh water and a place to wash away the grime of this desolate road.”
The Zodrian led his mount toward the edge of the road and Kael noticed crude trails cut through the brush toward the stone tower. The others followed Cefiz’s lead and soon the entire party hiked through the brush. After several minutes of winding through the thickets and brambles, Kael stepped out into a glade filled with towering Elms. The Elm’s branches reached up toward the stone tower above them as if in prayer. Their roots clutched the dry earth and snaked toward a large, placid pool filled with clear water. The far side of the pool lightly rippled against the grooved and scarred base of the soaring granite block.
The group led their mounts to the water’s edge and dropped their reins. The horses drank deeply and feasted on the succulent grasses near the water. Cefiz smiled as he became lost in memories of his youth. The smile quickly faded to a somber expression.
“What is it Guardsman?” asked Granu.
“This glade holds both joy and sorrow for me.” stated Cefiz.
The Guardsman turned to the Southern edge of the glade and spied weed encroached piles of stone. He walked toward the piles.
“King Macin demanded my units return to Zodra. We’d been heavily engaged. Many of my comrades were gravely injured and needed treatment. But an order is an order and old Brelg was nothing if not a stickler for orders.”
Cefiz pulled his saber from his scabbard and hacked a few of the larger weeds away from the piles.
“The Ulrog pushed us hard during our retreat. This glade was our sanctuary. No pack had ever come this far South before. When we reached it , we knew we were safe. Unfortunately, we lost several men. Their wounds and the toll of the journey overcame them. They’ve rested here for eighteen years. I pray their sacrifice wasn’t in vain.”
“No soldier’s sacrifice is in vain when fighting for the freedom and well-being of his people.” said Granu. “If the cause is just. So is the man.”
The pair turned to the noise of a loud splash. Eidyn had stripped and plunged into the cool clear water.
“No better way to refresh yourself than a quick swim.” smiled the Elf.
Kael looked about the glade then back to Cefiz. The Guardsman smiled.
“Hop in. The bulk of the army still lies to the North. We needn’t fear an Ulrog pack here.”
Ader and Teeg filled water skins from the pond and retreated to the soft grasses spreading under the Elms of the glade. Cefiz and Granu stripped from their dusty garments and joined the others in the pool. The number of scars that covered both men stunned Kael. The boy remembered the story of Granu’s scourging at the hands of his brother. He became acutely aware of what others sacrificed in this struggle and felt shame that he focused so much energy and attention on himself. Prince Granu lost a father and a brother over his beliefs. The Keltaran lost his people, even his identity.
“Come on in, Kael.” called Eidyn. “Get that handkerchief from your face and wash the dust from your eyes.”
The Zodrian boy snapped from his thoughts and smiled at the Elf. He stumbled toward the pool as he struggled to strip away his filthy garments. A moment later, Kael was up to his neck in the cool, sweet water of the pool. He shivered and laughed.
“That’ll wash away the road, eh boy!?” laughed Cefiz.
“Absolutely!” shivered Kael.
The group swam for a short time and Kael relaxed. It reminded him of summers several seasons ago with his brother. The pair would finish chores early and run off to a watering hole on the edge of Hamly’s ranch. Aemmon and Kael would swim until the last late hour of summer sunlight. Aemmon liked to climb onto a low thick willow branch that stood near the edge of the pond and dive into the water. Kael looked at the Elms surrounding the pool. He spotted a suitable branch.
The boy climbed from the cool water and stood next to the tree gauging his climb.
”Eidyn.” called Kael over his shoulder. “Watch this.”
The Elf prince made no response. Kael turned and looked down into the pool. Eidyn treaded water, staring past Kael to the edge of the glade. Granu and Cefiz retreated to the far side of the pool and stayed low in the water. Kael furrowed his brow and turned to follow the Elf’s gaze. On the far side of the glade, Teeg and Ader stood with their backs to the pool. Facing them stood the delicate figure of Lilywynn. The young woman dutifully reported on her patrol of the surrounding area. A hint of a smile crept across the girl’s face as she continued to converse with Ader and her eyes drifted past him to the pool. Kael’s eyes went wide. He froze and his face ran a deep red. Lilywynn calmly finished her report and bowed lightly toward the two men. A shiver ran up Kael’s spine.
“Kael Brelgson! Either return to your swim or put some clothing on!” called Lilywynn. “I’m tired of looking at your backside and you’ll catch your death in this northerly breeze!”
Kael blinked hard then jumped into the pool to the loud laughter of his companions. Ader began giving Lilywynn instructions as Teeg turned and approached the pool.
“Lilywynn informs us that a troop of Guardsmen marches from the North.” said Teeg. “They are three leagues away.”
Cefiz looked to the sky.
&nb
sp; “The light is fading fast. They’re making their way to the pool.”
“Perhaps they are on a hard march to the South.” said Granu. “And will bypass the pool.”
Cefiz shook his head.
“Probably a retreat unit. Sent to prepare a campsite for a larger group that will arrive in a day or two.” stated the lieutenant. “What does Lord Ader suggest?”
Cefiz stepped from the pool and dressed. The others looked nervously at Lilywynn. Even Granu fidgeted in the water. Lilywynn absently stared at the pool intently listening to Ader’s instructions. Teeg continued.
“Sprig is finishing a sweep of the butte and the area East of our position. Once that is completed, Lord Ader plans to send the Sprites farther afield to search for the main body of the Guard. He feels it would be detrimental if our group were discovered by this Guard unit. Our .... make-up might spook a battle weary force into an encounter.” stated Teeg glancing at Granu. “We might be better off by avoiding this group, or at least by making our encounter less.... stressful.”
“Agreed.” responded Cefiz. “But we cannot change campsites now. There are no suitable destinations nearby and our light fades fast.”
“Milady!” rumbled Granu across the camp. “Do you mind? I must alight from this pool and dress before the Guard is upon us.”
Lilywynn’s smile broadened.
“I don’t mind at all, Prince Granu.” chortled the girl. “By all means dress. I’ll finish my conversation with Lord Ader and be on my way.”
The girl turned back to Ader and resumed her conversation, the entire time fixing her eyes on the pool’s edge.
“My Lady, please?” coughed an exasperated Granu.
“Prince Granu!” snapped Lilywynn. “I have four brother’s not including Chimbre. Although you’re most certainly double their height, you’ll be displaying nothing I haven’t seen before!”
Lilywynn turned back toward Ader, this time slightly averting her eyes from the pool. Granu grumbled and quickly lifted himself from the water. The big man snatched his clothes from a willow’s branches and tried to rapidly force his large frame into them. In his haste the giant lost his balance and tumbled onto the soft grass of the glade’s floor. The group burst into laughter at the giant’s misfortune as Granu wriggled on the ground attempting to get a tree trunk between himself and Lilywynn. The young woman’s laughter fell like light rain on the group and for a moment their cares washed away.
The Pool And The Pedestal (Book 2) Page 19
