"That's worth something." Joven said. "Are you well enough to travel?"
"I need someone to adjust my gear so I can use it with one hand." Bridget admitted.
Joven nodded, turning back to the table. "Check the storage closet at the base of the stairs. There is a trunk with a red stripe painted on it."
Bridget's eyebrows creased, but she turned and walked over to the side of the stairs. A single panel door was mounted on the side. She yanked the door open and dust puffed out from around the edges of the door frame. She waved a cloud of it away from her face as she peered around. The light from the windows and the fireplace provided enough light to see by.
The storage space had several boxes and a barrel of some liquid. A large trunk, wood with iron banding, sat in the center of the small space crammed against several wooden boxes. A red splash of paint crossed the top of the trunk, so she didn't have to look long. She grabbed the handle of one side and dragged it out to the main room.
"Open it." he commanded, returning to help Selene pack the remaining essentials for mission.
Bridget found the trunk had no lock, so she flipped open the latch and hefted the lid. It opened easily and in the good lighting from the main room, she could see the dull gleam of metal inside.
Inside the trunk was a suit of leather armor with several bands of black iron worked into the outer layer, providing several hardened spots to deflect attacks against her vitals. The left arm's sleeve was studded in squares of black iron and the shoulder had a molded leather spaulder that had a two inch wide furrow in it from front to back. The other side had no sleeve. Instead, the shoulder and arm area had a black iron pauldron from a suit of plate armor that was bolted over where the sleeve would be. She reached in and pulled up the suit by the collar. It was heavier than a simple suit of leather, but was not nearly heavy enough to be encumbering for a warrior of her strength. A final detail she noticed, the latches and straps were all along her left side.
"This is..." She trailed off mid speech.
Joven didn't even turn to look at her. "It's weighted so that your right and left sides should be the same. You'll be balanced when you're fighting, and better protected on your vulnerable side."
She looked back in the trunk, standing over it with the suit in her hand. Something beneath the leather caught her attention and she set the armor aside as she crouched down to peer inside.
Under the armor was a sword. Similar to the curved chopping blade she was used to using with both hands, it had been kept as thick and as sharp, but had a foot of its length cut off and the handle shortened. The weapon had no hilt; the blade just cut down to a handle wrapped in leather with a steel ring pommel.
"You made me these?" She asked, giving the sword a test swing. Its abbreviated length meant she had less reach, but enough control that she could use it effectively with just one arm. Though it was for her off hand, she had been training herself to use her left since the accident. The ring allowed her to keep the sword at hand, hanging in her pinky and ring finger while she used her forefinger, middle finger and thumb to manipulate objects.
"No." Joven replied.
"Then wh-"
"Endrance did." Joven interrupted. "He had them made for you a week after we fought Kalenden, when it was proven you would survive the fever you had."
Bridget stared down at the weapon in her hand. The blade was much more finely smithed than the one she had when she served as Endrance's Draugnoa. Before, it had been hefty, crude, and sharp; and used her greater strength to her advantage. It didn't matter to her how pretty the metalwork was.
This weapon was professionally crafted, using fine steel and expert techniques. Extraordinary in quality, it had to have been crafted by one of the best smiths in Balator from what she could see. The light from the windows glinted off the flat of the blade, catching her attention. She saw that someone had etched the side of the weapon.
Along the flat of the blade were words. She didn't understand what they meant; she never managed to learn more than what a few words meant, and even then didn't actually learn the alphabet. It wasn't any of the combinations of symbols she had learned.
"What does it say?" She asked.
"Parg aurbinn Utlima, myndr nota minnhond." Joven replied, he still hadn't turned to face her. Selene remained focused on her task at hand. Joven had been present for the weapon's crafting, while she had been tending to Bridget's fever. He couldn't read the written language of the old barbarians. Like everyone in the last several generations, he had only been taught to speak it. However, Endrance had repeated it enough times as he was working on it that Joven had memorized the saying.
Bridget looked down at the blade feeling it's improved balance and lethal effectiveness by the way it shifted in her grip. Better craftsmanship did make a difference.
"Until I return your arm, please use mine." she translated.
She stared down at the blade, her heart conflicting with her head. Her eyes burned, vision blurring, and she could no longer see the letters etched in the blade. The sound of droplets striking metal reached her ears. For the moment, she was glad no one was facing her to see her cry except the familiar, but he wasn't the kind to talk. How long had Endrance endured her derision and anger, even though he had made such a thing for her? She had been treating him like scum and he'd just taken it and kept going. Just like... the last time he proved himself to her.
She shook her head half laughing, half sobbing. The bastard was too smart for his own good. He trusted that she'd eventually realize what he was doing, even though she was too shortsighted to see past her own missing arm. Joven, his most trusted friend, probably didn't even understand what the mage was doing; playing such a long game to prove himself.
"You son of a bitch." Bridget muttered. "I almost lost myself in hating you and you've been there for me the whole time. Even when I lashed out at you the hardest. Bastard."
Bridget gave the blade a swing, scattering the teardrops. Wiping the tears from her eyes with her sleeve, she walked up to the table and with a capable flick, stuck the blade point into the table. Joven and Selene looked up from their busywork and turned to her. Though reddened, her eyes burned with intensity as she looked back and forth between her companion's eyes.
"I need one of you to show me how to put that armor on." She demanded. "Because naked or not, I am going down there after Endrance. There are things we need to discuss."
Chapter 11
Bridget stood next to Selene on the street in front of their temporary home. Since it was taboo to interact with those considered dead, the citizens of the neighborhood who passed by made great pains to avoid making eye contact. Some of the more superstitious barbarians took extra measure to never get within ten paces of them at any time, so they waited in the street undisturbed. Children tried their best to avoid them. Occasionally, a troublemaker might have the guts to approach them, but none were present on the street that day. While it meant that no one would speak with them, no one dared bother them either. Even the criminal element of their city refused to get involved in the Draugnoa; the horror stories of their presence were enough to keep all but the insane from even approaching.
Word of the siege on their second bowl had already travelled this far up the mountain, and most of the traffic in the city was citizens gathering supplies and preparing their weapons for battle. Considering the foe outside the city, the barbarians went about their activities with a degree of calm certainty that would leave outsiders baffled. If Ezeilo survived his wounds, maybe he would have found Balator's efficient reaction to slavering hordes of rabid wolfmen somewhat disturbing.
High above, Gullin soared, his scarlet eyes scanning the crowds below him. What he was looking for, or why he was out that far, was entirely beyond Selene. Perhaps he enjoyed being that much closer to the fire of the suns; perhaps he was searching for his lost master. Either way, soaring seemed to be the natural thing for a bird to do, so perhaps that was the only reason he needed. He had been exhausted
hours before and had barely recovered any energy since. Now that the day was trending towards the end, the bird was starting to act more and more agitated with their progress.
Selene had dressed in a new outfit. She wore an under layer of black cloth pants and red dyed blouse with added leather corset and sleeves to protect her limbs and vitals. The armor's lack of chest coverage drew attention to her curves and would have made her blush before. However, part of her found it exciting. She did manage to ignore her other half’s influence enough to keep the blouse laced all the way up. Sturdy boots with flat heels and supple leather gloves were completed by a lightweight red cloak. The garb was something she had been planning to wear for Endrance, but she hadn't the chance to show him yet.
Gullin had liked the outfit's colors. He had nodded his head vigorously at the red. Of course, he could be a bit biased, being predominantly red to begin with.
Alongside the hatchet at her hip opposite of her chain dagger, she had a belt pouch carrying several small supplies she might need. Medicinal herbs, bandages and a packet of powdered dried wolf’s bane. It wasn't as effective at driving the intelligent wolfmen away as it was the normal wolves that roamed the area; but it could effectively muddle their sense of smell for hours if she sprinkled it over their tracks as they moved through the bowl and needed to hide.
Bridget wore her new armor over a simple shirt and cloth pants. Her boots were laced up by her own hand; one of the many things she had to learn to do with just one arm. Her sword was slung on her back in an open leather sheath; the top half of the upper side was cut away to help draw the weapon. The furrow in her spaulder was just the right size to rest the back of her blade on when she wasn't using it for it's deadly purpose.
The sound of hoofbeats caught their attention and moments later, Joven arrived on their street, riding his horse with two saddled horses in tow. He rode down the street and though interacting with him was not taboo, everyone gave him wide berth. Many had heard the tale of how he wielded the strength of a dozen men and defeated General Balen and many of the king's guard by himself during the overthrow of King Kalenden. Several dozen men had witnessed the fight, and after the battle they spread the word that he had sundered stone with a swing and fought on despite being shot several times with a crossbow.
He pulled to a stop in front of the women. He took the reins for the other two horses and held them out. Selene took them and passed the closest one to Bridget, who quite easily leapt up into the saddle. Selene pulled herself up onto the horse and took up the reins. Though neither of the Draugnoa had much experience horseback riding, they had been practiced enough to know how to stay in the saddle. Bridget was lucky that most of their control was through the legs; otherwise, navigating would have been more difficult for her.
They turned and rode at a steady pace down the busy streets. People gave them enough space to ride by unhindered, though at times they had to stop for large crowds. As they moved, Bridget kept shooting glances over to her fellow Draugnoa. Selene pretended not to notice for a while, but half an hour and several furtive glances later, her patience had worn out.
"What?!" she shouted, glaring at Bridget.
The fellow Draugnoa only smirked at her outburst, but several pedestrians scattered from them suddenly. "Oh nothing." she started. “It's just-"
"Just what?" Selene interrupted. The occasional flakes of snow that drifted down from the clouds started melting as they came in contact with her cloak and hair. If anyone nearby had noticed, they weren't letting on.
Bridget rubbed her cold nose with the side of a finger. "You know, you seem… well, sexier."
"Sexier?"
"More confident. Aggressive." Bridget eyed her, gesturing to her companion’s outfit. "You certainly dress in more flattering clothing. That really gives your chest some, how do you put it?"
"Impact?" Joven offered.
"Impact!" Bridget agreed. Blushing angrily, Selene shifted her cloak, covering herself.
"Endrance had been helping my human half be in tune with my demon half. Does that bother you?" Selene quipped. Whatever shyness she had before was almost gone; the revelation of her inhuman half had loosened a knot in her social skills that she hadn't even been aware was present. She still had self-conscious moments, but they were further apart and more easily overcome. Still, she wasn’t in the habit of dressing alluringly, so she just endured with it until the feeling of embarrassment passed.
Bridget half shrugged in response. "Is your other half strong?"
"Yes." Selene knew they hadn't yet explained to her the details of what kind of damage she’d done when her demonic half had taken over. It had accounted for a third of the repairs that had been made to the castle.
"Then, so long as it's on our side, I am glad you have it." Bridget replied simply.
"It is her side." Joven replied, spurring his horse to move a little faster.
The three rode their horses hard down the road, exiting the fourth bowl in record time. They had to slow down for the transition down the third bowl; the switchback slopes down to the bowl below were not meant in the slightest for charging down. It was, in fact, quite the intention of the zig-zagging ramps up and down. Despite the great width of the roads, the sloping turns ensured that any attempts to fight one's way up the bowl would leave the attacker vulnerable constantly by retreating troops. The only other way out of the mountain city was through one of the few hidden natural caves and passages along the inner walls of the city.
A barbarian in light armor and a crossbow slung on his back came running up to them as they rode towards the gates to the first bowl. He clamped a hand to his chest and bowed his head.
"Joven!" he exclaimed, his voice carrying. "We were not expecting the messenger to get to you so soon!"
Joven scowled down at the man. "I never encountered him." Joven replied. "I am out on the Spengur's business. What is it that you need?"
The crossbowman looked up at him. "General Balen has mustered a thousand men under his command and is preparing to retake the bowl. He seeks to speak to the Spengur, and has tasked a messenger to bring him." The man looked past Joven and frowned. "Where is he?" he asked.
Joven dismissed the query with a curt wave of his hand. "Never mind that. Take me to Balen. I will discuss the Spengur with him."
The men gathered to retake the first bowl had started setting up a temporary base camp; using the area normally open for travel as avenues to set up tents and prepare for battle. The soldier led them through a winding path through the tents; something Joven had been expecting to see, but the Draugnoa had not. Unlike the rest of Balator's youths, the Ergkinoa weren't trained in a military manner and didn't have any experience navigating a campsite.
The command tent had been set up in the center of the camp, surrounded by the smaller troop tents like a mother among her young. Large and squat, the tent was designed to allow space for tactical meetings, not opulence. A dozen armed and armored men of Joven's stature could make battle plans inside without crowding.
Joven led the way to the tent and the Draugnoa rode behind. The presence of a one-armed woman and a dark haired beauty in red caught the eye of many warriors; and only a few recognized them for who they were. Whispers shot through the ranks, and they were ignored again by the time the three dismounted at the command tent. Selene was both grateful and resentful for the shift in attention and had to tell herself it didn't matter more than once before her other side would calm down.
Inside the tent was simple, with bare earthen floor and a ten foot diameter circular table set in the center with maps strewn across it. The only other features in the tent were the three barbarians standing around the maps. Two were captains of companies of men, and the third was Joven’s brother, Balen.
Notably a few inches taller than Joven’s impressive height, Balen was a massive man. He had been of incredible physical stock and trained since childhood to be an expert warrior and capable commander. Joven and Balen shared strong features, blonde hair,
and intense intelligent eyes. Unlike the bodyguard, Balen had chosen to take up the military life and had risen up the ranks to general in a few short years through cunning and strength of arms.
Up until a few weeks before, Balen had been an unwitting thrall of the prior king of Balator, Kalenden. Joven still remembered the blank look on his brother’s face as he had faced off against him in battle. Balen had told him since then that all was forgiven, but it had continued to bother the younger brother.
“Joven!” Balen called out, spreading his arms in welcome. “You’ve arrived sooner than I anticipated!”
Joven clasped hands with his brother and nodded. “We had already been near the wall when the attack happened. We would have been here the whole time, but we needed to gather some more equipment.”
Balen looked the group up and down. “I see that you came sufficiently armed, though I wonder if the Draugnoa should wait back with the Spengur while we take care of this attack. Can you believe it? The first enemy to breach the outer gate in seventy years!” Balen chuckled as he shook his fist in celebration. “Finally a worthy battle for our armies!”
Joven looked at the circular table while his brother spoke. The first bowl was laid out, and figurines carved from stone had been set to represent battlefield information. From the quick glance he had afforded, the wolfmen had almost entirely overrun the bowl. He grimaced, but turned to his brother and smiled. “It will be a difficult battle, but we have the advantage.” He confirmed.
Balen frowned, realizing something. “Wait. Where is the Spengur?” he asked. “I needed to consult with him over the strange magic in the first bowl.”
Bridget stepped forward, looking over the map without glancing at Balen. “That’s because the Spengur is already in the first bowl.” She stated simply. “That magic is his and we saw it destroy hundreds of wolfmen.”
Balen scowled. “While I am… grateful that he helped defend our capitol, the Spengur is supposed to help us by advising, not fighting on the front lines.”
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