Tarkon could focus the Forge energy into the Sacred Steel plates of his light armor if he wished. Doing so would drain him, though. He wanted to save all his magical energy in case something went wrong, but he kept those details from Gormer.
Tarkon was willing to be cold and uncomfortable for his sometimes-clueless friend.
Gormer slipped the hat over his head while Tarkon took off his gloves and removed something from his fur coat. Steam rose from his hands that suddenly began to glow red, revealing the shadows of veins and bones.
Tarkon transferred several glowing, steel balls into one hand and removed a square of thick leather from his saddlebag. He wrapped the hot steel in the leather and tied it with a piece of string. He tossed the bundle to Gormer.
“That’ll warm you up,” Tarkon said. “Put this under your tunic and keep it near your heart for a while. I know you have that weird vest on under everything—the thing with all the straps and pockets.”
“Hey, my pocket vest has kept me alive for years,” Gormer replied. It also let him hide stolen goods, weapons, cheat cards, drugs… anything his twisted heart desired.
Gormer was still shivering, but soon after he followed Tarkon’s instructions, he stopped.
An owl call came to them from the path ahead. Astrid took off her gloves and shaped her hands into the instrument that returned the call when she blew across her thumbs.
“That’s the first perimeter,” Vinnie said. “Two hoots means all clear.” The large, scientist-mage pointed ahead, riding point on his draft horse.
“I thought it was one hoot,” George said. “We don’t use signals up north. We just know. The woods themselves speak to us.”
George rode behind Astrid, along with Woody. The two men were the respective leaders of the two bandit clans that operated in the Eastern District of the Lungu Protectorate.
Astrid took a quick breath and sighed. Rolling her eyes, she resisted the urge to scold George. But she couldn’t fault him. Only she, Vinnie, and Tarkon had any military experience. Besides, despite his massive size—six-feet-five, only four inches taller than Astrid—George was ridiculously and surprisingly sensitive.
He also had a massive crush on Astrid.
No, the best management technique with a man like that was patience. To win his loyalty, she’d already kicked his ass in a show fight in front of his clan mates. Astrid didn’t need to draw energy from the Well to defeat him, but he did give her a run for her money.
That fight was the source of their mutual affection, but for Astrid, things stopped there. George had been like a large, very dangerous puppy dog around her ever since.
Astrid simply pointed out the obvious. “We all need to know the system,” she said. “The Bandit Clans, former members of the civil guard; we’re becoming an army. Success depends on the strength of our ways.”
Gormer groaned and said, “Between your meditation exercises, Moxy’s damn elixir check-ins, and military training, I don’t even know who the hell I am anymore.”
“I know who you are,” Woody said. “You’re the bloated puke piper that owes me money from the cut you stole from our last raid together.”
“Oh, come on,” Gormer said. “I thought we were past that. Didn’t I save your ass when—”
Astrid held up her hand, and Gormer instantly fell silent.
The Dregs seemed like an unruly rabble, but Astrid was their guiding force. She was their leader and they followed her every command. Watching Astrid in action taught them they would be fools to ignore her.
Up ahead, on the border of the path, a mound of snow moved.
Moxy burst from her furs and sprang up twenty feet into a tree. Gormer drew his crossbow while Tarkon summoned two small fireballs that danced in his hands. Woody and George drew their swords and readied saddle postures to charge.
Only Vinnie seemed as if he had not a care in the world. Astrid knew better. In spite of his massive gut, Vinnie could somehow move short distances faster than most people could see. As a bonus, could also create localized earthquakes.
“It’s a friendly,” Astrid said quickly. To the moving snow drift, she said, “You’re supposed to signal.”
“Lips too cold,” the young woman by the name of Darla said, shaking the snow off her bulky clothes.
A few branches danced around on her shoulders as she adjusted her winter camouflage suit. Another living snowdrift rose up. “Shift change,” David said, smiling at his twin sister.
“I didn’t hear your replacements,” Astrid replied, testing them.
“Because they’re already in place up the path,” the Darla answered. “Just like you taught us.”
Astrid glared at her. “How do you know? I didn’t hear their call signal. I taught you to wait for the signal before moving.”
“Well, no, but…” David stammered. Darla just stood there, mortified. “We got the first signal and it’s been a few minutes and—”
“I get it,” Astrid said. “But we have the protocol because it might save your ass one day. Follow orders. Follow protocol. I promise you it’s worth the discipline. You don’t move until you get the signal that your replacements are in position. You got that?”
“Yes, Protector Astrid,” the twins said.
“And you don’t have to call me ‘Protector.’ Just Astrid is fine.”
The two exchanged strange looks, then nodded their heads gravely. “I’ll do better next time,” the woman said. “Astrid,” she added after another moment.
“That’s good,” Astrid replied. “You’re doing great already. I want to see you doing better than great. That’s why I put you out here.” By right and ritual, she might have claimed a title, but somehow, she just didn’t feel right in doing so. Maybe it was because of what happened to her former home.
The sentries smiled as they slipped back into the snowy forest and disappeared into the shadows.
“I can hardly hear them,” Moxy said after she jumped down from a tall pine in a single leap. She hopped back onto her horse again and covered herself in the furs. The skin of her cheeks changed from nearly translucent to ivory white.
“You don’t even need those furs,” Tarkon said. “You’re just going to make yourself uncomfortable going from warm to cold.”
“I know,” Moxy replied. “I can survive with nothing on, but I enjoy being warm sometimes.”
Tarkon’s face softened, and Astrid caught sight of a rare, soft smile from the normally hard-faced man.
They all knew to exercise noise discipline as they passed through the last security perimeter. The hidden patrol up ahead gave them the final ‘all clear’ and ‘pass’ owl calls as they moved through.
It would take several more hours of picking their way through an icy forest to reach Keep 52. They kept a watchful silence as they progressed, ever sensitive for signs of the enemy.
About an hour’s walk from the keep, they met up with the rest of their party. Ten soldiers stood under a lean-to made from branches and partially covered in snow. Another similar structure, deeper in the woods, would partially conceal and shelter their horses. To be extra-quiet, they’d have to leave their mounts and walk the rest of the way.
Three stayed behind to guard their temporary camp. Vinnie handed them his new crossbows and some ammunition.
The former bandits could barely contain themselves. They nodded their heads in thanks, and not shouting looked like it was about to kill them. They wanted to blurt out their gratitude, but Vinnie could only spare a few, very softly-spoken words about how to operate the new weapon. The rest, he communicated by operating the crossbow.
The bandits actually covered their mouths to keep from yelling their enthusiasm as Vinnie pulled down the heavy wooden lever that drew back the string. He loaded a bolt, fired it, then fired another one in just over three seconds.
Astrid glared at him and shook her head violently. She couldn’t believe he’d done that. They were far enough away from the keep that it wasn’t a great risk that someone
would hear. But it was still a risk.
Crossbows were quiet and lethal, especially Vinnie’s new design. But they still made sounds that any soldier worth their salt would recognize. Astrid shook her fist at him. Vinnie grimaced and bowed his apology.
Vinnie finished supplying crossbows to everyone except Astrid, Tarkon, and Moxy. Moxy and Tarkon were practically living weapons themselves.
So was Astrid, but she preferred her trusty rope dart that she wore coiled around her waist and draped over her left shoulder. She adjusted the blunt, egg-shaped darts at either end of the rope so that she could throw them quickly at anything within range.
Gormer tapped Tarkon on the shoulder and handed him back the steel shot that had long-since grown cold. Tarkon thanked Gormer with a severe nod and made the fist-in-palm gesture of honor that was common to his order.
Gormer returned the gesture awkwardly, wanting to get it right.. He shrugged and mouthed the words, “Good luck.”
After a quick weapons check, the party moved out.
Moxy scrambled up into the trees and leaped ahead from branch to branch. She was their scout. She disappeared quickly in her winter armor, made from bleached white leather that covered her chest, abdomen and upper thighs. The half-legs and arms were made from spun spider silk. In that outfit, she didn’t even have to use her invisibility powers to fade from view.
Tarkon followed her with worried eyes for the few seconds that was possible. Gormer sidled up to him and risked a few low words in his ear.
“She’s better at this shit than any of us,” he said. “So, don’t worry.”
Tarkon offered yet another smile that always seemed to hurt him. He gave Gormer a pat on the shoulder.
It took more than an hour in the deep snow to get within a hundred yards of the keep. Everyone waited for Astrid to give the signal. She only did so when Moxy jumped out of a tree and nodded her head. “All clear,” she mouthed.
Astrid waved her hand at group one. Four bandits took off running with eerie silence through the snow. She waited a full minute, then waved her hand at the second group of four. They took off with equal stealth.
A few minutes later came an owl call, followed a few seconds later by another. Astrid moved out with her core team.
Soon, the gray, stone walls of Keep 52 came into view. It was far different in winter. In the fall, the carts of Assessors, merchants, and various Protectorate functionaries would gather around the gates. Merchants would park their carts along the side of the wide Toll Road leading up to the keep.
Now, only a single wagon sat by the gates.
In the fall, the Ale house on the other side of the road was brightly-lit and loud voices escaped its windows with their panes of wavy glass. But now, that drinking establishment was shuttered against the cold. Only a few Keep Guards were visible as they hurried inside the warm building, and while Astrid surveyed the scene for a few minutes, nobody came out.
Part of her wished she was inside. The other part just wanted to get the mission over with.
Where was her informant? He should have been here by now.
He had gotten word to her that he would come out on his standard patrol, then slip away from his group and meet her.
Moxy had scurried up a tree somewhere. Tarkon, Vinnie, and Gormer stayed with Astrid under cover at the edge of the tree line. Vinnie risked moving closer to talk low into her ear.
“It’s past time. He should have been here by now. Maybe he couldn’t slip away.”
“Psst,” someone signaled.
People were coming. It looked like the patrol. Since Astrid began fighting against the Protectorate last fall, they’d doubled the guards from two to four. Something was strange. Usually, the guards spread out in pairs. This time, they were all bunched together.
Astrid was about to slip back into the forest and disappear when one of the guards broke away from the group. The figure stumbled, and the other guards fell on him. That’s when she realized it was Arthur, their informant.
Before Arthur was run through with short swords, he bellowed, “It’s a trap! Run, Astrid!”
But Astrid was already running. As much as she wanted to stay, fight, and kill the goons who murdered a good man, she wasn’t willing to risk the lives of her party. Besides, it was never good to let the enemy dictate the terms of a fight.
Crossbow bolts and arrows hissed by from seemingly nowhere. Troops burst out from the other side of the road.
“Shitbag lied to us!” one of the guards yelled. “They were supposed to be on the other side.”
Astrid smiled. Their informant lied, probably under torture, to give the Dregs a fighting chance. She lagged behind to make sure the rest of her party was safe and heading back towards the rendezvous point.
A few paces into the forest, more soldiers appeared.
“Shit!” Astrid yelled. She found it to be an accurate assessment.
Instead of running in the opposite direction, three bandits formed a line and took a knee, bringing crossbows to their shoulders. In the clear moonlight, the attacking soldiers saw what was about to happen.
Bows exclaimed, “THOOM!” and bolts hissed. Several enemy soldiers fell, screaming with spikes in them. The rest kept coming.
Astrid counted eight, but her crew only took out two. Moving shadows told her more were coming. The enemy drew their short swords and charged. Astrid shrugged her shoulder to let the rope slip off and drop into her hand. She took a deep breath, and when she let it out, the Well filled her with power.
First, her eyes turned black. Then, as the power flowed through the muscles in her legs, her eyes turned aquamarine and began to glow. She counted four running footsteps before she closed the twenty-foot gap.
She planted her feet, swung her arm back, then forward as she jumped. As she twirled through the air, she let the rope play out. The blunt, egg-shaped dart pulverized a skull as she landed in the midst of the enemy.
Someone thrust at her with a short sword as she spun. She allowed the rope to wrap around her again, then planted her feet. The opposite line wrapped twice around the sword arm, and Astrid yanked on the rope.
She heard the arm pop out of its socket as the rope carried the man up and around. She released tension and the rope let go, but the man kept going until he slammed into a tree. He fell lifeless to the ground as Astrid rounded on his doomed colleagues.
A crossbow quarrel zipped past her and found the throat of a man Astrid was just about to smash in the face with her rope dart. She pulled back the swing early and set herself up for a nasty sword strike that would have split open her chest.
“Too close with the fucking crossbows!” Astrid yelled as she dropped back and backfisted another man who tried to stab her.
CRACK!
Just in time, Tarkon summoned an explosion into the onion-shaped bulb at the end of one of the weapons he called his pistols. The bullet shattered her attacker’s chest and left him in the snow with what looked like chopped steak for a back.
Moxy came out of nowhere. In seconds, her white armor wasn’t white anymore. The ivory claws extending from fingertips slashed, ripped, and tore at the enemy soldiers. The delicate features of her fine, high-cheekboned face were twisted into an animal madness that made Astrid’s skin prickle.
“Sorry,” a familiar voice said beside her as he jumped into the fray. “I almost shot you.”
She recognized Lief, one of the new former-bandit recruits.
“Just kill these fuckers,” Astrid said as she lunge-kicked a soldier under the chin, snapping his neck.
“On it,” Lief said, as he turned his back to press against hers as even more soldiers closed in.
Astrid and her crew were outnumbered. Where were the other teams? She thought it was impossible that they hadn't heard this fight. She hoped they weren’t overwhelmed by the first part of the ambush.
Lief was fast and strong, but he wasn’t too smart. Astrid had to kill two men closing in on her, then turn her attention to a large sol
dier with a short sword in each hand. Lief had over-committed in his attack, thinking rage and aggression were his best strategy.
Astrid’s rope wrapped around the man’s neck. She pulled hard. The enemy came forward, and Lief ran his own sword through his chest.
“I had him!” Lief yelled.
“You’re fucking welcome,” Astrid said, pushing Lief away. A crossbow bolt sank into Astrid’s arm instead of Lief’s chest. Completely unphased, she pulled it out, and the Well healed the wound instantly.
“This way!” Astrid yelled to Lief as she turned to a crowd that was closing in on Gormer and Tarkon.
CRACK! CRACK! Two more explosions produced clouds of blood and bone. Tarkon created enough of a gap in the closing circle for Astrid to fill.
She crushed the side of a skull with her elbow, then turned to punch someone in the face. The impact snapped the man’s neck and dropped him dead in his tracks.
Those were the last pure-power attacks she could make. She felt the energy fading. the Well was infinite, but the human body was not.
Lief was there beside her to pick up the slack. He took on two foes at once before Gormer slipped up behind one of them and put his dagger in the man’s back.
Tarkon was out of ammunition. Astrid passed some smoldering corpses, so she knew Tarkon had used some fireballs as well as his pistols. He had to be low on energy, too. He turned his pistols around in his hands and used them as blunt instruments to smash bones and block swords.
The ground beneath them shook, and suddenly, the group of men was gone. The ground literally opened up beneath them and swallowed them whole. Voices screamed in horror from the pit. The sounds of breaking bodies stopped a few seconds later.
Vinnie jumped up out of the pit and landed beside it. His tremendous gut shook as he waved his hands above the torn soil. His eyes glowed red and what looked like hot lava flowed behind them.
The ground rumbled, and as suddenly as it split open, it closed. Only a brown patch was left in an otherwise slushy, red field.
They all whirled towards footsteps running up behind them. It was the rest of the party. They looked a bit battered and slightly bloody, but a quick headcount told Astrid they were whole.
Knight's Struggle Page 2
