Fortress of the Forgotten: Book One of the Swordmaster Series

by Rutger Krenn

  Arell’s horse shifted nervously. No doubt it could sense its rider’s confusion and so too could Talon. To her it would seem a bad thing that this old man knew all about them and everything that was happening. She must be wondering how he could possibly help Thromdar, and most disturbing of all for her would be his own sudden shift of manner. He had swapped from extreme caution to deference, as though the old man were worthy of the greatest respect, which of course Talon now knew he was. It wouldn’t hurt, he thought pleasantly, to keep her in the dark a little while longer though.

  “Both our journeys are urgent,” the old man said. “And there is little time. Short as our meeting is however, it will not be without profit. There are several things you should know.”

  “It shall be as you wish,” said Talon.

  “I knew Chow when he was a young man,” the stranger began. “He was the most talented of his generation and saw deeper and more clearly than his contemporaries. He stood on the shoulders of the masters who went before and refined their knowledge. That was why he was able to create a fighting system superior to the others. The style will one day be named after him, for even as he taught it to you he passed it on to others also, and his teachings will flourish in many places.”

  The old man stood tall, both hands on his staff but not leaning on it, and his eyes took on a faraway look. “Chow was a great man, but he was not recognized as such in his lifetime. In the years to come that will change. There were many who ridiculed his ways and even some who hated him. You know the main reason why. What you do not know is the lengths to which some would go to prevent what he was doing. This was not realized at the time that you left the village, but it is known now that his death was no accident. It wasn’t illness that killed him. It was poison. And where there is poison, there is a poisoner. His name is Wu Chin.”

  The blood drained from Talon’s face. “I know Wu Chin,” he said slowly. “He’s always been a bad man, and he has pursued me since Chow’s death, but could even he stoop so low as to poison one of the masters?”

  “He could,” said the old man, “and now, as you know, he intends to kill you as well. You must be wary, because his skill is very high, and his ruthlessness is greater still.”

  “I will be careful,” said Talon with firming resolve. “Yet, if he killed Chow, he must be careful also. The murder of a master is a crime that cannot go unpunished.”

  As he said these words he happened to look in Arell’s direction and saw the recognition in her eyes of his unsaid meaning. He would endeavor to deliver that punishment himself, and his intent had been revealed in the suppressed anger in the tone of his voice. Wu Chin had killed the only father that he had ever really known. A sudden waive of emotion rushed through him. Chow had endured much in his lifetime. He had passed through great suffering and he had remained a good man. He had deserved better than this.

  “Very well then,” said the old man, and if he guessed, or approved or disapproved of Talon’s intention, he gave no sign either way. “We have used up as much time as we dare and our journeys must now continue. However, I hope that we shall meet again. If so, we will have more opportunity to talk.”

  “I should like that very much, said Talon. “I don’t know if I’ll return for there’s danger at every turn, and yet if I accomplish my mission I will seek you out.”

  “Until then,” said the stranger. He walked past them, his appearance that of an old man, and yet one with hidden strength and in possession of secrets unknown to others.

  “Until then,” echoed Talon, and his mind was lost in thought.

  They watched him as he nimbly walked up the slope and crested the ridge without looking back. He was heading into danger but Talon held less fear for him than would be expected.

  Arell interrupted his thinking. “Are you going to tell me what that was about?”

  “I would if I could,” said Talon, and his eyes remained thoughtfully fixed on the last spot the old man had been visible.

  “You mean you have no idea yourself,” she sniffed.

  Talon’s eyes left the crest of the ridge and rested on his companion. He decided to favor her with his best smile.

  “We had better talk as we go,” was all he said.

  The sorrel moved at Talon’s signal and Arell, now impatient, moved a little faster to catch up so the horses walked side by side.

  “I don’t know who that man is,” said Talon, “but I know what he is. He gave one of the passwords that are used among the Chung. It was the highest level password, or at least the highest I know. It’s possible there are more. That means that at some point in his life he has lived among them and won their respect. That’s not an easy thing for an outsider to do. Whether or not he learned the fighting arts is another question, but there was a look about him. It’s hard to say but I suspect he’s mastered them at some point. Whatever happened though, it was well before my time, and must have been done in secret.”

  “None of that explains how he knew our names and all about us,” said Arell.

  “That’s true. He has been among the Chung but he has travelled elsewhere as well and achieved much. I think he’s a Wizard. It’s rumored, is it not, that they have the sight?”

  Arell fiddled idly with the reigns as she pondered this. “My father says so. He’s met Wizard’s before, or at least one of them anyway. He says they have powers beyond ordinary men. Everyone hears the stories but not many people know whether to take them seriously or not. My father does, but who is to say what the truth is?”

  “There’s not much point in worrying about it I suppose,” said Talon. “We’re on our own again and we have a job that needs doing. If we can get back to Thromdar in time perhaps we’ll discover the truth. Not even a Wizard will be able to save the castle if we can’t return with the army.”

  The morning grew older as their weary mounts plodded on. Exhaustion hung like an oppressive cloud over horses and riders alike when they finally rested at noon.

  Talon built a small fire while Arell rubbed down the horses to relax their tired muscles and then led them to drink from a small stream nearby.

  They were well hidden in a dense copse of trees and the small amount of smoke that was coming from Talon’s fire was dispersed by the branches. There was no telltale plume to pinpoint their location and only somebody close at hand would be able to smell anything.

  He boiled water and then threw some herbs into the pot that were used among the Chung as a restorative. Filling two cups he offered one to Arell. Talon was grateful that her mood appeared to be improving.

  The copse was a cool and pleasant place. The dappled light was tinged by the greenery all around them and lulled them into restfulness.

  He allowed the fire to burn down to coals before cooking some strips of beef and warming bread. It was a simple meal, but quite filling, and just what they needed after their arduous night.

  “We’d best get some sleep,” said Talon when they finished eating.

  “Is it safe for both of us to sleep, or should we take turns to keep a watch?”

  “I think we’ve left any pursuers behind for the moment. Any Goblins would be on foot and there’s no sign of the Chung anywhere. It’s a risk, but after last night we both need the rest badly.”

  They settled themselves down among their bedrolls and soon were fast asleep. For a time at least all the cares of the world were lost to them and their worries were swept away.

  All too soon however their time of rest was over. Talon was the first to wake. He’d slept well, if briefly, and felt much better. He looked over to where Arell dozed. Her head rested on one arm and the other was stretched out beside her in an uncomfortable position. Nevertheless, she appeared to be soundly asleep and he moved quietly to avoid disturbing her. She’d been through just as much as he had lately and borne it all without any complaint. She deserved as much rest as he could allow her before they started on their way once more.

  The afternoon was well gone and dusk was descending on th
e valley. In the fading light he studied the surrounding countryside, both from where they had come from and where they were going. There was no sign of anything that shouldn’t be there.

  When the light had faded and he could no longer see he stoked up the fire again and prepared another drink of the hot tea.

  He looked up to see if Arell was awake and found her watching him. Her head was propped up on her arm and she had a strange, intent expression on her face. He couldn’t tell if it were good or bad.

  “Do you feel better?” he asked, tentatively.

  “Much better, thank you,” she said and got up to join him near the fire. Wordlessly he offered her the drink.

  They took little sips of their tea until it cooled sufficiently to be drunk. They were quiet, just enjoying something to quench their thirst and watching the embers of the fire as night settled around them. It was a moment of tranquility and they were enjoying it while it lasted. Soon they would be riding once more and there would be few chances to stop and rest during the night. They must keep travelling at speed in order to stay ahead of any pursuers and yet they must also be careful to leave as little indication of their passing as possible.

  Talon threw the dregs of his drink into the embers and they hissed. So too did Arell and by silent agreement they both got up. Talon placed dirt over the fire and hid the remains of their camp as best as he could while Arell saddled the horses.

  Chapter 7

  Kenrik, Duke of the Battlemark, stood atop the ramparts. This was the castle where he was born. His father had built the fortress and been the first duke, and before that a war-leader of the Northmen as they migrated from the plainlands far to the southwest, finally coming to these mountains and displacing Goblin strongholds long under Eruthram’s sway.

  Now, he thought, the Goblins were returning. They were coming to reclaim their former lands and what could the Northmen do about it? The army was far away. The troops left behind had been badly weakened by the massacre of the patrol. There was little more than a handful of soldiers defending the walls. Straw in the wind!

  Thromdar, and the people it protected, would be swept away in a flood of destruction. The civilization, the plentiful orchards and cultivation, the architecture, the pleasant little mountainside cottages - all that two generations of people had striven to build would be lost to the savagery of Goblins.

  And he was tired. He had been so for several years. It was a sickness within him, a lassitude that had grown since his wife died. Alanya. How he missed her! He had never known sorrow until he lost her. Life was full, it was a challenge, a series of adventures of ever greater danger but he had overcome them all and she was always with him to share the triumphs. But now she was gone and the world was empty. There was no longer meaning in anything, and yet he went through the motions.

  All that he had left was Arell. He loved her, taught her all that he could about the world and gave her skills that she would one day need. But there were some things he couldn’t prepare her for. She had learned his lessons well and excelled at many things. She was an adult now, and his time was passing. She would make her own way soon and he must be prepared to let her go. After that, what purpose could he serve?

  He was caught in this net of gloom but he must shake himself free. Aren Daleth would be lost unless one man could help them: unless Talon’s quest was successful. It was too much to hope for but he must fight with uncompromising determination to ensure his people and his land were given the best chance possible. Thromdar would not fall one day, one hour, not even one minute earlier than it must. And if the army were alerted in time, they could, perhaps save the realm.

  He stood alone on the battlements. Few dared approach him since it had been discovered his daughter had fled. Fled, as her letter said, to help Talon. She was always wilful and had suggested that someone go with him. Little did he realize at the time that the person she meant was herself. But he shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, he had had no son and had taught her many things that a son would have learned. She could fight with sword and knife. She could ride as good as or better than any man. She could hunt and track too. He didn’t doubt that she would find Talon’s trail and catch up with him.

  He’d almost sent someone to bring her back but it wasn’t likely that they could find her and return before the Goblins came anyway. Bringing her back under those circumstances would put her at even greater risk. It was perhaps all for better anyway. At least now she had a chance to live. She might survive even if the castle did not. Had she remained she would suffer the same fate awaiting the rest of Aren Daleth.

  Kenrik looked out to the west. In that direction, somewhere invisible, the person whom he loved most in the world and the greatest hope for Aren Daleth rode together. His thoughts went out to them over the empty space.

  Closer to hand his own fate and that of his people marched on. The Goblins were approaching in their thousands. They didn’t advance in well-formed ranks and columns as Aren Daleth’s soldiers would have done. They came in undisciplined and disorderly groups yet what they lacked as an organized army they made up for in sheer numbers and ferociousness. They were born fighters, able to wage unremitting war and kill without respite, and they would be doing both very soon.

  Kenrik sensed someone approach. It was Cadrafer and he suddenly realized how lucky Thromdar was to have him here at such a time. His loyalty and courage were beyond question and he knew more about warfare than any man in the north.

  “They come,” said the Duke solemnly by way of greeting.

  “They come,” acknowledged Cadrafer. “So too does someone else. There is a warrior who wishes to join us.”

  “A warrior? Let him join us if he wishes to do so. He is welcome, and yet it will mean little against the hordes that approach. He’ll be a leaf blown in the wind, just as all of us will be, and yet it is good to have him. Perhaps his bravery in joining the defense will lift the spirits of the soldiers.”

  “Perhaps,” said Cadrafer. “I think, however, he may achieve more than a single man. His kind is worth many.”

  Kenrik took his eyes away from the approaching Goblins and studied Cadrafer.

  “Who is he?”

  “His name is Barad. He’s known as the Axeman but I have heard different names for him in the past.”

  “I seem to recall some stories from Lonrak a long time ago. Is it the same man?”

  “It is. He’ll be worth ten men in battle. Maybe more.”

  “Why does he wish to fight for the Northmen?”

  Cadrafer shrugged. “He wishes to see you first and then fight. That is all he would say.”

  The Duke thought for some time. There was some mystery here and he wanted to get to the bottom of it.

  “Bring him to me,” said Kenrik at last, “and we will speak.”

  Cadrafer saluted and left the battlements. While the Duke waited he watched a column of Northmen leave the castle from its eastern entrance. They were soldiers’ wives and blond headed children heading for the safety of Aren Daleth. But there would be no safety anywhere in the kingdom should Thromdar fall.

  The wives looked grim and quiet and many held their children’s hands or picked up the younger ones and carried them. Some of the older ones ran ahead and played games in the lush green grass to either side of the column as their mothers looked on. Even from here he could sense the worry and fear they were trying not to show. Had they seen their husbands for the last time? Would they live to see their children cruelly slain before the curved swords of the Goblins swept away their own lives?

  It didn’t take Cadrafer long to come back and in less than a minute he’d returned with the Axeman.

  “Greetings,” said the warrior.

  “Good morning,” answered the Duke, noting that the Axeman didn’t bow or use the correct form of address. The stories said he could fight - they also said that he was no respecter of authority and the Duke ignored it. All that mattered now was fighting ability.

  He considered
the man before him. He had a thick beard that made him look neither young nor old. He was barrel-chested and muscular but quite a bit shorter than most Northmen. There was something about him though that caused wariness: something that showed that this man was truly dangerous. He moved and walked like the best warriors Kenrik had ever met. He stood poised and relaxed, and yet completely alert. He moved less like a cat and more like a tiger, and suddenly the Duke had a feeling he could cover the distance between them and kill him before he could even move.

  The warrior made no such move though.

  “I understand that you wish to fight for us,” said the Duke.

  “I do, Kenrik. My name is Barad, and I will stand on the ramparts with you. I will fight against the Goblins and I will send many of them to their ancestors. They will learn to fear me, and my axe.”

  “I rather think they shall,” said Kenrik looking at the great double-bladed axe, “but let us be direct here. Why should you wish to fight?”

  Barad chuckled. “I like a good fight. That’s no secret! But I also have a message from someone you knew years ago. He asked me to help, and he said to let you know he was coming soon.”

  Kenrik was curious. “You have a message? Who’s it from?”

  Barad lowered his voice. “The message he gave me was this. ‘Tell Kenrik that one comes beyond his power. I will come as soon as I may. Until then – hold fast.’ That was all he said.”

  “And who sent the message?” asked the Duke.

  “One that you knew years ago.” He lowered his voice further. “Arandur himself.”

  The Duke was surprised. He had heard that name many times over the years but never thought to meet the man again. It would be good to see him but at the same time it only proved how grim their situation was. Arandur had a habit of showing up when things were at their worst and he didn’t always save the situation. And what did the message mean? Who was coming that was beyond his power?