Fortress of the Forgotten: Book One of the Swordmaster Series

by Rutger Krenn

  Courage woke in him and he shook off the feeling of despair. There was yet hope. At least one defender remained on the wall fighting for freedom. The Duke could still be alive and it may not yet be too late to save Aren Daleth.

  Life returned to his deadened limbs and Talon rose, careless now that he might be seen by the enemy. Thranding did likewise. Talon drew his sword while the king hefted his and together they turned to the soldiers behind them, concealed by the masses of burnt trees and scrub. As the aisles of pines marched up to the valley rim so too did rank after rank of hidden Northmen. An army of Northmen and Dwarves were gathered and now their strength would be pitted against that of the enemy.

  Heart shall be higher, mind the clearer, courage the greater as shadows deepen! said Talon, giving voice to the age old sentiment of his people.

  “Charge!” bellowed Thranding, his command resonant with authority.

  “Aren Daleth!” yelled the Northmen.

  Out of the devastated forest they ran and down onto the grasslands. Thousands of warriors followed and their war cries echoed around the valley. Thromdar Mountain stood remote and uncaring above both Northmen and Shadow host. It was wreathed in curtains of rain as though it wore a grey mantle and was crowned with cloud. It was glorious to see and yet somehow a terrible reminder of the implacability of time and death.

  On they ran toward the enemy and boldness was now in their hearts and the love of battle flowing through their veins.

  Rain began to fall and Talon’s sword glinted while the blades of the Northmen flashed in the gloom. The hopes of a nation and of all the free peoples of Andoras, though they knew it not, came with them.

  High atop the ruined tower Arandur heard the words of the Turgil. The south is ours, the north now also, and all in between shall be crushed into obedience under the Master’s hand.

  The Goblin army came without stint and it seemed as though the valley were filled with numberless enemies; that the very air itself, heavy with woe and despair was choking; that the brooding sky was dark and the sun would never shine again. But Arandur now felt cold rain falling upon his face and it was clean and fresh. A breeze came with it, filled with the scent of pine resin from far away mountain slopes that had not been fired. There was something good about that smell. In the way of a Wizard he knew the balance of the world had shifted.

  He looked more closely. The Turgil came toward him but his head was now turned back and his footsteps were faltering. He paused for what seemed an age. Long moments passed then there was a flash of light from the ashen forests beyond the enemy and the Northmen army at last burst like a silver-topped wave into the valley.

  A maddened cry rose from the Turgil’s dark form. Filled with rage and malice the sorcerer spun away from the castle and turned his back on Arandur. Whether to flee or work some further evil the Wizard could not tell. In moments the dark form disappeared amid the gloom.

  “The army has come! The army has come!” shouted Arandur, his great voice carrying across the battlements and down to the enemy that remained below.

  It was the last of his power but it was well used. He now watched with the eyes and perception of a Wizard as a vast chain of events, some set in motion many years before, came to a culmination.

  The defenders gave a great cheer and their arms filled with new strength. Down slashed their swords, killing where they went and the Goblins turned to flee only to find the edge of the ramparts before them. They were soon slain and their bodies hurled over the wall.

  The enemy below milled with uncertainty. Fear grew with every second but they began to form into ranks and then advanced to meet their new opponents.

  The Northmen army struck. Talon was in their ranks, slaying wherever he went and the enemy shrank from him but it availed them little as they only turned toward the blades of the Northmen or the heavy axes of the Dwarves.

  The Duke himself was now come to the battlements. Knowing the end was nigh he had risen from his bed though he had barely the strength to stand. He intended to let fate find him on his feet, whether it brought life or death.

  Leaning upon his sword and using it like a walking stick he came to the wall. He studied the situation and saw that the Goblins on the ramparts had been slain and those below had turned their backs to Thromdar.

  “Open the gates!” he shouted and men cheered to see him once more. Cadrafer led the way down and many men went with him.

  Out through the gates they went and the Duke followed more slowly. He watched as they fell upon the enemy even as the Northmen army pressed from the opposite side.

  Few Goblins escaped. They fell by their hundreds and the ground became covered with blood and gore. The falling rain turned to rivulets of red.

  “Thromdar is saved!” yelled Kenrik. The Northmen about him took up the chant. So too did the remainder of the defenders on the battlements and even the Dwarves who came to meet them as they slew what remained of the Shadow Host.

  Talon was weary and in pain from several wounds, though all of them superficial. His arms and legs ached and he was tired from lack of sleep and the turmoil of his emotions. But when he saw the Duke standing before Thromdar’ gates he walked toward him. Thranding and Beorht and some of the soldiers came with him.

  He had become numb to death and barely noticed the slain Goblins and Trolls who lay all around. He could not help but stare at the remains of the Kraken however.

  The Duke was surrounded by his men. Cadrafer and Mecklem were there and so too was a broad shouldered fellow with an axe. He now saw the old man, using a broken staff to help him walk, coming through the gates to join them.

  “Well met!” cried Kenrik and pumped his hand. “Well met indeed! You have no idea how much we longed to see you. No idea at all!”

  “I thought I’d arrived too late,” said Talon simply, smiling as the Duke continued to shake his hand.

  “It was a close thing,” said Cadrafer. “A few minutes later and it would have been all over. That you came at all is a surprise. There weren’t many who believed you could succeed.”

  “Really?” said a haughty voice from amid a group of Dwarves. Talon turned around and saw Arell slip from among them and rush to give her father a hug.

  Still hugging her father, but now turning her head to look at Cadrafer she said, “He had my help didn’t he? I never had any doubts about him at all.”

  “Ha!” laughed the Duke. “It seems my daughter has had a change of mind. It wasn’t long ago that your opinion of Talon didn’t seem high at all.”

  “Well, that may be,” she said more seriously. Her eyes met Mecklem’s and then flickered away quickly. “It hasn’t been that long a time but a great deal has happened. I’m not the same person I was. Not the same at all.”

  She let her father go and looked to Talon. “Aren Daleth owes him a great deal,” she said. “He saved us all.”

  “That is the truth,” said the Duke. “As my daughter says, we owe you a great deal. More than we can ever repay. I promise you now that whatever you ask for shall be yours.”

  Talon reddened slightly. He wasn’t comfortable with the fuss being made of him and didn’t see Wu Chin emerge from behind the Dwarves and circle his way around the group of people.

  He gathered his resolve and looked up again. “There’s nothing I wish, my Lord,” he said. “Nothing for which you have the power to give. Foolishly, when this all began, I asked for the right to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”

  He paused, and though he didn’t look in Arell’s direction he knew she was studying him intently. “That was a stupid thing for me to ask. I don’t know why I did it except perhaps as some kind of joke.”

  Arell’s eyes flashed and she looked as though she might draw one of her knives. Talon looked at her and smiled. It was the same roguish smile that he used when he first met her. He watched until he saw the realization appear on her face that he was only teasing her.

  Something else lay behind his words that she had not as yet gu
essed however. “So,” he continued and turned to the Duke, “while that was a foolish thing to do, I am now wiser than I was. To ask for a girl’s hand in marriage is not something to be done without the right reason.”

  “Therefore,” he said, “I will say this by way of apology. Though I didn’t know Arell well when I said those words, I know her better now. I saw her beauty from the very first, but now I have also seen her courage, her devotion to home and family, her intelligence, and a little of the spirit that burns within her. I say now, before you all, that she is a true daughter of the Northmen and has won my loyalty for all the days of my life.”

  The group was silent. This was unexpected and even the Duke was taken aback. No one could quite fathom if this was a reaffirmation of his old request for Arell’s hand or not.

  Arell was silent for long moments. She looked at Talon and then at Mecklem. Several times her eyes shifted between them and Mecklem read something there that the others could not see.

  “It is clear to me,” said Mecklem quietly, that much has happened to the Lady Arell recently. This is a time of change for all of us and I release her, if she wishes, from our engagement.”

  This surprised them all for Mecklem said his words with quiet dignity.

  “Oh!” Arell swallowed and it was all she could manage to say.

  “Well,” said Wu Chin from close by. “Isn’t this nice. Talon returns and brings an army with him. Everyone is happy, except the Goblins and Mecklem apparently, but the day isn’t over yet. All the Goblins are dead but the swordplay isn’t finished.”

  Kenrik was the first to speak. “You must be Wu Chin. I don’t know how you got here but there will be no more battles today.”

  The Chung warrior looked at him contemptuously. “I got here by following the army that saved you. Nobody asked me questions when I joined their ranks and started killing Goblins, but more than Goblins will die this day.”

  Thranding stepped forward. “I have heard something of your feud with Talon but in the time that I have known him he has only taught me admiration for the Chung people. He’s returned to his homeland now, as no doubt you will return to yours, so perhaps I can offer you gifts as a token of respect from my people to yours, to take with you on your way?”

  Wu Chin looked at the king with lidded eyes and Thranding continued to speak. “I’ve been told that horses are highly prized in your land. I would be pleased to give you a dozen of our finest to take with you. Most of all, I offer the goodwill of our nation to yours.”

  It seemed to the others that this was a generous offer and a diplomatic way to ease the feud. They did not expect Wu Chin’s reply.

  “You insult me, petty lord,” said the Chung warrior. “I care nothing for your gifts and even less for your goodwill. I desire only the reputation as the best of the Chung warriors and that Talon dies by my hand.”

  Silence fell over the gathering. It was incomprehensible that Wu Chin could refuse such generous gifts or try to make good his threat to Talon with an army of Northmen around him.

  “It seems,” said Mecklem, “that the king’s generosity is refused. “No matter. If you would fight with anybody, Chung, then you will fight with me.”

  “No!” said Talon, “You can’t do that. He’s beyond your skill. He wishes to fight me anyway, and that’s as it should be. I would contend with him and bring him to justice for the murder of Chow.”

  “Little people!” spat Wu Chin, “I’m happy to fight you all!”

  In a flash his dao was drawn and so too was Mecklem’s sword. They began circling each other. The group around them were forestalled and couldn’t act.

  It was over in a moment. It left all who saw it except Talon and the Wizard in awe. Before Mecklem could move his sword he was stabbed in the stomach and thrown to the ground.

  Arell ran to his side. There were tears in her eyes as she fumbled for a cloth to hold against his wound. In moments it dripped red with blood.

  “Why?” she whispered. “Why?”

  Mecklem did not answer at once. He smiled, then said very softy, “What else was left for me?”

  Talon drew his sword and Wu Chin came to meet him.

  “So, it has come at last,” said the Chung.

  “So it has,” said Talon as they circled.

  He continued to step slowly, never taking his eyes away from the Chung, but addressing the king.

  “One thing I must ask, my Lord,” he said. “Let no one interfere with this fight. This is the only way the feud will ever be ended. And for Chow’s killing justice must be served.”

  The king obviously didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all and looked like he might order the surrounding soldiers to subdue the Chung warrior, but in the end he gave a single curt nod.

  “You fool!” spat Wu Chin. “Of course Chow was killed. I did it myself. But you should know before you die that his execution was decreed by Shagga Lu himself. My sifu serves a higher purpose than your petty ideas of justice.”

  Talon turned white with shock. He had not thought of this before but he saw the truth of it instantly. He couldn’t afford to think of it now though - it would only distract him. That was no doubt why Wu Chin revealed it. Clear like the sky, cold like the winter.

  Slowly and surely the two combatants circled each other. All around the Northmen and Dwarves were gathering to watch. The tired, the wounded, those of rank and ordinary soldiers, the Wizard and the Duke. They all watched, enthralled by the scene.

  The opponents moved on cats’ feet and their bodies twisted and turned as they stepped but remained in perfect balance with each other.

  Talon had sparred Wu Chin before and had always lost. He wrenched his mind away from such thinking. They had never fought with swords and that was very different from hand sparring.

  Wu Chin apparently perceived some weakness and moved forward, leaping as a tiger does at its prey, sharp sword slashing in a vicious stroke toward Talon’s neck. Somehow Talon moved just enough to get out of the way. His own sword was thrust forward in a small but powerful movement but Wu Chin twisted out of the way and they recommenced circling as though nothing had happened.

  Talon slowed his breathing and steadied his mind. He allowed his arms, legs, and all the muscles of his body to relax. He focused his eyes on Wu Chin, watching him glide over the ground; studying the movement of his chest as he inhaled and exhaled. He saw a slight tensing there and knew Wu Chin was about to strike again.

  Talon’s pattern-welded blade flashed up to meet the other’s blow. Metal scraped against metal and the ringing of swords broke the quiet. Screeching came from the blades as they drew apart but Talon had not yet finished. At the same time as his sword withdrew his other hand flashed out and struck Wu Chin’s face.

  The Chung warrior reeled back, the point of his dao circling between him and Talon. A red mark showed on his forehead where the heel of Talon’s palm had hit. It was a small blow, a glancing blow, but it infuriated him.

  He leapt forward again. This time it was no single strike but a flurry of attacks delivered with crushing power and blinding speed. Talon retreated, weaving from side to side as he moved but Wu Chin’s blade followed him relentlessly.

  At length the Chung warrior halted the onslaught. His breath came in ragged gasps but he smiled. Talon had noticed nothing while the attack was happening but now he felt a warm trickle run down his right hand. It was blood from a glancing blow to his forearm and it soon began to hurt. It was a dull throbbing but for the moment at least he still had full movement of his arm.

  Again Wu Chin attacked. This time he chose an overhead strike which Talon only just avoided and then with tremendous agility the Chung warrior dropped down low to the ground and his blade scythed in a wicked arc for Talon’s legs.

  Talon jumped the blade and launched his own attack. Wu Chin retreated, slowly and carefully. He blocked Talon’s blows or avoided them. He began to smile again and stopped retreating.

  Talon was getting tired now. His arm hurt e
ven more, and worse, he realized he was outclassed. Wu Chin was better than him. Not by that much, but better. Perhaps with another year of training he could hope to equal him but he felt now with growing certainty that time was running out. This was all he had - another minute if he were lucky before all his dreams ended. He would never settle down and build the life or have the family he yearned for and Chow would not be avenged.

  Wu Chin launched another attack. If he were quick before he was quicker now. If he struck with power before he was more powerful now. The jarring of blade on blade ran down Talon’s arm into his wound and penetrated the very bone itself. Pain stabbed like a dagger.

  Something moved and slipped beneath Talon’s feet. The earth had been churned up where he now stood and was slick with puddled water.

  The crowd gasped and Talon, trying to regain his balance, felt his sword struck from his grip with a final bone-shattering jar.

  He staggered backwards, only just keeping to his feet and looking desperately for a sword, but Wu Chin stood between him and the only weapon within reach.

  “Time to die,” said Wu Chin with cold malice. His eyes were dreadfully focused, as if nothing in the world mattered except the execution about to occur. Talon read instability there. In this moment the inner character of Wu Chin was fully revealed. There was insecurity and a great desire for power to fill a void that could not be filled.

  The murder of Chow would go unpunished. He had given so much to so many but his death would be an injustice that would never be redressed. Thoughts of his sifu triggered a memory of a conversation with him that seemed long ago and a maneuver that Chow had taught. It was designed for just such situations although passed on with the advice that to lose your weapon was to die. The maneuver was one of desperation, yet it was a chance at life, and Talon had recently discovered much to live for.