by D. H. Dunn
Drew squinted at the men, seeing his first good news. No quivers, one arrow lightly held by each of the soldiers.
One shot each, that’s perfect.
The men were both facing the sunrise, perhaps lookouts against the Dragons instead of him.
At the far end of the bridge, underneath the tower, were two men wearing leather breastplates emblazoned with the triangle of the Line. The man on the left held one of the short swords he’d seen, the other a wooden club. He watched as the men noted his approach, calling up to the archers before nervously glancing at each other.
They were afraid, and they likely knew who he was. Or at least, what he was. He watched as the archers on the tower turned in alarm, quickly knocking their arrows and drawing a bead on Nima and himself.
“Last chance to run,” Drew said out of the corner of his mouth. They were nearly to the center of the bridge.
Nima laughed. “I’d only run forward, if you’d let me.”
He laughed too. It was a good feeling, these moments with Nima. Keeping in mind just how much the stocky Sherpa woman meant to him was very important to his plan.
As the two men pulled back their bow strings, Drew took a deep breath. His whole theory would come down to the next moment, and Nima would pay if he was wrong.
The archers released their arrows.
He didn’t think about the projectiles hitting him, that had been his mistake in the past. He was always willing to be hurt, ready to take a hit so someone else didn’t have to. All the way back to when it was Artie and Dad, Drew always got in the middle. The point wasn’t to try and keep himself from being hurt.
Even when the archers had been moving their hands, placing the shafts on the bow, he had thought about Nima. Visualizing the arrows flying toward her, piercing her chest. His friend going down, wounds that would likely kill Nima before her body even struck the stone. Drew would do anything to prevent that,
Anything.
The shield flowed out from his hands in an instant, the wooden arrows deflecting off its crimson surface as if they had hit steel. The feeling of protective energy releasing from his hands and forming a dome around Nima and himself was so natural, so effortless. It was as if this ability had been with him all along but locked away. He had finally found the key.
“Cool,” Nima said, smiling up at him and giving him a wink. “I knew you could do it!”
“Thanks for trusting me,” Drew said with a grin.
He dropped the shield, a wave of fatigue running through him. Raising the shield and keeping it active used much more energy than the fire did, despite how effortless it always seemed to Upala.
Still, he was now certain he could bring it up again as he needed. He kept his face confident as he strode forward, to help convince the archers on the tower their projectiles would be useless. The men seemed to accept his act, and were now backing toward the rear of their platform.
The two guards on the ground at the far end of the bridge took a nervous look at each other and charged. Beyond them, inside the city, Drew caught a glimpse of the large crowds the majority of the Line soldiers were still struggling with. His view was then cut off by the men running at him, sword and club drawn.
“Okay, Nima, Time to get behind me,” Drew said. He could feel a little of his strength returning, the tide of fatigue starting to ebb.
He stared ahead at the two men charging him, hearing the sound of Nima’s boot’s scrape across the stone as she scrambled away. He watched their eyes, looking to see if either of them glanced at her, but they were both focused on him.
They were going to reach him at about the same time. Drew guessed they didn’t have much weapons training, likely pressed into service when the Line hit more resistance than expected.
He could block them both by putting up his shield again, but that would use even more of his energy. There was no way to know what Garantika and the Line might have planned further in the city. If he leaned on his healing here, he might be able to keep more of the stamina in store for later.
He chose to take the sword hit, the wound would hurt more but his flesh would hopefully heal quicker than a broken bone. He grabbed the charging club wielder by the shirt and pulled him aside, feeling the other soldier’s sword slice into his arm as he did so.
It hurt, but not as bad as he expected. The swordsman’s momentum carried him past Drew, while Drew wrestled with the heavier man with the club.
Drew released the man’s shirt, hammering his right fist into his stomach. The man grunted in pain, hunching over and wheezing. One quick knee to his opponent’s descending face and he went down.
Hopefully he was not hurt too badly. Trillip would be along shortly to offer aid, at least according the plan.
Drew spun just as the swordsman swung the blade at his head. Acting on instinct, Drew ducked and brought the crimson shield up, the weapon glancing off. Drew then pushed the shield’s distance forward suddenly, surprising the man and knocking him off his feet.
Didn’t know I could do that, he thought. It would be worth remembering in the future.
The man started to get up as Nima crashed into him, Lhamu right behind her. The shocked soldier toppled over, stunned by the two women, as his sword knocked away from his hand and fell over the side of the bridge and into the surging current of the Umbuk River.
The Speaker appeared next to Lhamu in a flash of lavender, glaring down at the frightened soldier who made no attempt to get back up or push Nima off.
Drew chuckled and turned, seeing Trillip out of the left corner of his eye tending to the heavier solider, visibly offering aid, just as they had planned.
He faced back toward the far end of the bridge, looking toward Rogek Shad.
As he feared, there were new Line soldiers waiting there, likely having been summoned from the group trying to manage the angry mob of Rakhum from both cities. The mob itself was now closer, a few of the people leaving the gathering there to see the activity on the bridge.
The four men stood at the entrance to Rogek Shad but did not move forward. They looked even more nervous than the previous two had, and even more poorly equipped, two of them were even unarmed.
He walked toward the men, watching them tense as he approached. They didn’t want to fight him, that was good. If he did this right, he would be done fighting.
Drew spread his arms wide, trying to look as peaceful as possible. “Soldiers of the Line,” he called out. His voice didn’t sound as deep and commanding as he would have liked, but it would have to do. Maybe it was better that way. “People of Rogek Shad and Nalam Wast! I may be Manad Vhan, but I and my friends are not here to fight you. We only wish to speak with your leader, with Garantika.”
The men looked back and forth to each other, as many more people from the crowd began to gather. Perfect.
Drew stopped walking about twenty paces from the soldiers, keeping his arms wide.
“I say again, I am only here to speak with Garantika. If he is truly the leader of the Line, he will come out.” He raised his voice, reaching inside to add a little bass to it. “I’m pretty sure you can hear me, Garantika! Will you hide inside the city? You wished to bring the justice of the Line down upon the Manad Vhan, well here I am! What courage will you show the peoples of these cities, the good Rakhum you have forced inside these walls in the name of your Line?”
There was a murmur coming from the growing crowd, civilians and Line soldiers standing side by side looking at Drew. Behind them, there was a commotion. Drew allowed a sigh of relief to escape his lungs. Garantika was here.
The mass of people parted like a sea, Garantika walking out from their midst. His face was scarred and covered in burns, his dark beard had several spots where only bare flesh now shown.
As Garantika came forward, he smiled. He seemed to bear the marks of his previous battle with Drew like medals, proof of his bravery and commitment to the Line.
He marched toward the center of the bridge as if he owned the structure, s
topping at the very spot Upala had surrendered. Drew scowled. Much pain and suffering had started with that day.
This would be different. Drew would make sure of that.
“You return now, stranger?” Garantika stared, the white triangle of the Line gleaming on the chest of his armor. “Proclaimed as a Manad Vhan now? No longer a denier?”
“I’m here,” Drew said, looking down into the man’s eyes. They were directly opposite now, closer than he had ever been to the leader of the Line. “This is what I am now, whatever you want to call it.”
“The reluctant god!” Garantika said with a laugh, spreading his hands as he addressed the crowd around him. “Tell us your plans for your subjects, my lord. Perhaps you desire to rule as Kater did? With your boot upon our heads? Or as Upala, a cold shadow blotting out the sun leaving her people to die in the dark.”
Drew took a step forward.
“Looks to me like the only person looking to rule here is you, Garantika. Maybe you wish godhood yourself?”
The man pointed a shaking finger in Drew’s face as he yelled his response.
“You dare? You drown in power and yet you dare compare yourself to-”
“That’s a good point! As you say, I have so much more power than you, yet what have I done with it?”
He took a quick glance over the crowd, seeing the faces of the Rakhum transfixed by the exchange. Good.
Drew could feel the switches being thrown in his head. This was more than the right angle with which to frame Garantika to his own people, it was the truth. It was the truth of the Line, but also the truth of his own life. He had been afraid of power, thinking himself unworthy.
Yet in front of him was a man with far less power who had used it far more, and to worse effect. Someone who craved the responsibility and power.
“People!” Drew said, stepping past Garantika. He was sure the leader of the Line didn’t like that. “Rakhums, many of you have witnessed my approach today. You have seen me, and seen my friends go out of our way to make sure we took no life. Yes, I am Manad Vhan.”
Pressure released inside himself as he said it. It was true, even if he had not been borne one. As far as these people were concerned, his world of origin didn’t matter.
“Again, he admits it!” Garantika shouted. “He boasts of it!”
“Of course, I do,” Drew said. “Yet I am no God, and I am no killer. I do not want to rule anyone. This man-” he pointed at Garantika. “This man has imprisoned his own kind. In his name and under his instruction, Rakhum have killed Rakhum. His Line has brought betrayal and murder to both of your communities, all in the name of re-unification.”
“That is not-,” Garantika began to rebut, but Drew quickly forged ahead, raising his voice to drown out his opposition. Garantika may have led the Line, but Drew guessed he’d never had to make himself heard over a crowded mess hall full of sailors.
“And now,” Drew boomed, “his Line is bringing back the Dragons! More killing, more death and destruction! Did he ask any of you? Did the Line seek any of your counsels or permissions?”
The Line soldiers looked over their shoulders, the murmuring crowd forming a close half circle around them.
“I will not impose my will on these people, Garantika. Will you release them, so they can make their own choices?”
“They are misled, even more so by your words. In time, my good people, in time you will see the value of the Line. The sacrifices we have made, the time we have invested - it is all for you!”
Drew looked at the faces in the crowd, tired-looking men and women. Many of them were shaking their hands, some gritted their teeth. A few looked scared, but more clenched their fists, their stares hardening.
“Garantika, I ask you for the final time. Will you stand aside?”
“No,” he said, folding his arms as he shook his head. “No, I cannot. My life, the lives of all of the Line have been for this. I will not stand aside, in the name of the Line I will not yield. Will a God move me?”
“No,” Drew said. “A Rakhum will.”
He stepped to his left, allowing Merin to walk forward. She strode up to Garantika, fists raised. Drew concentrated and pushed his shield into a dome, which he extended outward until it encompassed himself, Merin and Garantika. He smiled at the man, the leader of the Line now struggling to maintain his composure as he stared up at her.
“I’m just here to make sure you don’t run away.”
15
“Stand aside, Merin!” Garantika’s growl was laced with anger and irritation, his rage bouncing off the stone bridge and the gathered crowd behind him.
Drew smiled again. This was not the fight the Line wanted, and he credited Merin for realizing that was the key. She stood across from Garantika, hands on her hips as she looked at him.
Daring him to throw the first punch, just as she and Drew had discussed.
“I am military trained,” Garantika pounded his breastplate with one meaty fist for emphasis. “As you well know. A combatant all my life. You cannot hope to defeat me!”
Merin remained still, her response coming in a loud but calm voice. “I am not here to defeat you, I am here to stand against you.”
Drew stood directly behind Merin as she faced Garantika, ready to react if things went in a bad direction. His heart pounded, his worries mixing with his concentration to keep the energy dome safely around Merin and the leader of the Line. If Garantika responded differently than he and Merin hoped, if he chose to fight Merin, things could get ugly.
Drew felt a swell of pride for Merin even through his anxiety. Outside the translucent, crimson energy, he could see the Rakhums of both cities now fully focused on the spectacle, the guards of the Line looking just as transfixed. This was the battle he and Merin wanted, a battle of words right here in full view.
Rakhum against Rakhum.
“Will you fight me, Garantika?” Merin asked. “If I do not accept your decisions about what to do with our people, if I refuse to be party to the slaughter of another race, what will you do?” She cast her hand toward the crowd at the end of the bridge. “Your first move was to imprison all those who did not agree with you. What will your second be?”
Garantika bared his teeth as the crowd murmured. He gave Drew an angry glance over Merin’s shoulder then glared up at her.
“You speak of moments, woman. Of eye blinks. That is what this is, a blink. Temporary. The Manad Vhan, the separation of our people, the subjugation of our people! Those were permanent. I fight not for days but for centuries, for what our people will have in the millennia to come. This generation may have to suffer to help the next, but that is the burden we will bear.”
“And you have decided this?” Merin said, eyebrows raised. She took a step forward, leaving little space between the two. “You and your Line speak for us all?”
“Yes,” Garantika bellowed his answer. “The Line has decided it, and I will see it done! If we must save our people from themselves, so be it. And if I have to fight you, Merin. . .” he lifted both of his fists in a combat stance, “. . .I will relish it.”
“Will you fight me as well?” Trillip’s voice came from behind Drew.
Just outside the shield, he knelt by one of the felled soldiers, wrapping the man’s arm with a bandage. Trillip stood, his tall, thin form seeming straighter to Drew than ever before. Drew focused, happy to see he could part the shield to allow the man to enter.
Trillip walked past Drew with a smile and a nod. Drew returned both, this wasn’t part of the plan, but it was better. Trillip came to a stop next to Merin, the woman putting one arm around his shoulder.
“Will you, Garantika?” Trillip asked. “Will you fight us both, kill us both in the name of your Line. Will you kill more Rakhum in the name of helping Rakhum?”
Garantika’s face looked back and forth between the two, his big powerful hands wringing and unwringing. “You fools, you do not understand! Hundreds of years to put this in motion, so many sacrifices-”
<
br /> “Too many sacrifices!” Pushing her way through the crowd at the edge of the bridge, a short, heavyset woman came forward.
After a moment, Drew recognized her as Harliss, the woman who had managed Rogek Shad for Upala. She walked with a limp as she passed the soldiers of the Line, but her head was held high. Drew created an opening in the shield as she approached Garantika from behind.
He whipped around, looking shocked by her display. Harliss walked past the man who had strung her up on a pole in Rogek Shad, taking her place beside Trillip and Merin.
At the far end of the bridge, the crowd edged forward. A few of the Line soldiers simply moved aside to let them pass, two of them dropping their weapons to join the onlookers.
Watching the exchange, the leader of the Line’s head moved as if on a swivel, casting his gaze back and forth between the crowd and Merin. He looked as if he were expecting the Rakhums of both cities to surge forward in his defense, yet most stood and watched him. Stared at him with looks on their faces Drew had seen many times. Confusion, doubt. Judgement.
Garantika pointed one shaking finger at Drew, his eyes bulging in frustration as he turned to address the crowd behind him. “You fools!” he screamed at them, his body trembling. “He is the enemy, not the Line! The Manad Vhan! Kater and Upala, gods on high! Now all we have done, all will be lost! You cannot do this! You cannot!”
Drew allowed the shield to drop completely, the assembled Rakhum of both cities now slowly advancing on Garantika.
Garantika dropped to his knees, as if a string holding him up had been cut. As the crowd circled around him, he brought one hand to his forehead, a trembling finger tracing the symbol emblazoned there.
“I guard the Line,” he said, his voice racked with sobbing. “I honor the Line. I trust. . . I trust. . .” He then collapsed to the ground completely, rolling onto his side as he continued his chant in a cracked whisper, one arm covering his face.
For Drew, it was as if a block of ice inside him had melted, the relief flowing through him so strong it brought tears to his eyes. They had done it, they had freed both cities from the Line without anyone getting killed. After so many setbacks, so many disappointments. He laughed, the pure joy of something going right overwhelming him.
