by R. E. Palmer
‘I’m amazed he can still function if that is the case.’ Bardon’s eyes moved across the scene of the battle. ‘I wonder if this Uluriel survives to lead them today?’
Elodi shuddered. ‘The weavers may not have done those beasts justice judging by the Archon’s reaction.’ She examined the tapestry. ‘But I imagine it would be difficult to capture their likeness with mere thread.’
Bardon sighed. ‘I wonder how much he remembers of those days. From what we witnessed, I’d say he came close to losing his mind.’
‘And close to losing the battle.’ Elodi studied the woven shadows at the Archon’s side. ‘Who was he calling upon to rise and send the demons back to the darkness?’
‘If the accounts are correct, he had no one left to call upon. His forces were all but spent, and he had no standing reserves in the field.’
She raised her finger. ‘The guard mentioned, imposter, I don’t recall the Archon saying that during his… episode.’
Bardon examined the Archon standing defiant in his armor. ‘Poor man must have been hallucinating, but perhaps, it helped to preserve his sanity in those desperate moments.’
Elodi turned her back on the scene. ‘But is he in any shape to do it again?’
20. the End of the Road
The Great Northwest Road narrowed as it climbed on its last leg to the mines of Drunsberg. For centuries, the road had served as a vital artery in the prosperity of the Seven Realms, delivering people, produce and peace-keeping forces to their destinations fast. But since the loss of the lands south of the Caerwals, and the imposing of the Archon’s restrictions, seldom few trod its weather-beaten track. Now only the Archonian Guard and the large wagons transporting the metals from the mines to Archonholm used the road.
Toryn stepped across a deep trough left by the heavy wagons to peer over the edge. His head span as he gazed down the sheer walls of the ravine until they merged into a dark line far below. Hamar took his arm. ‘Careful, lad. They say it takes a week to reach the bottom.’ He chuckled. ‘Not that it matters, you’d be dead long before bouncing off the sides, or if that don’t finish you, you’d die of thirst before your body smashes to pieces at the bottom.’
Toryn scrambled back. ‘A week? You’re pulling my leg. Nothing is that deep.’
‘There’s only one way to prove it, but I’m sure you don’t want to try. Come on.’ Hamar turned back to the road. ‘We didn’t march up here in record time to admire the view. Besides, I think you’ll also find Drunsberg town quite a sight.’ Toryn opened his mouth, but Hamar turned his back and strode up the road. He called back. ‘You’ll have to wait and see.’
Toryn did not have to wait long. He stopped and gawped. Thick tree trunks jutted out from the sides of the ravine like braces supporting a barn roof. But this was no roof. The trunks held up a huge platform housing the town over the chasm. Toryn stared in disbelief at the buildings tilting towards the edge, wondering how they did not topple over into the ravine. Smoke rose from dozens of chimneys sticking out at all angles from rickety rooftops. He called to Hamar a short distance ahead. ‘Is it safe?’
Hamar stopped and grinned. ‘Said you’d be impressed. But don’t you fret, lad. It might look precarious straddling the gap, but the town has withstood decades of the bitter gales howling in from the north.’ He shivered. ‘And believe me, the wind gathers strength as it funnels down the gap. If it was going to fall, it would have done so years ago.’
Toryn counted the rooftops. ‘It has to be three times the size of our village.’
‘Strange place, I’ll give you that.’ Hamar took a gulp of water from his flask. ‘As the mines grew, so did the need for more homes, not to mention taverns, but there’s no land to be had in the mountains. On that platform sits the New Town, or so it was called when built many years back.’ Hamar handed his flask to Toryn. ‘But the oldest part is in the mountain. Inside is like a brock’s sett with passageways, halls and rooms hewn out of the rock. Lower down, the tunnels lead to the mines.’
Toryn stared at the dark beams. ‘When were you last here?’
‘Must be forty, no wait, forty-five years back. I was on a duty escorting the precious metals south to the smithies at Archonholm.’
‘What are the folks like?’
‘Tough. Have to be. Most work the mines for iron ore, but the real riches are found in the seams deep under the mountains. That’s where you find the metals to make the fine swords for the ladies, lords and knights.’ He clicked his fingers. ‘Would snap ours in two with the lightest touch.’
Toryn winced. ‘Can’t say I’d want to work below ground.’
Hamar set off. ‘We’ll leave that to the miners, eh? Our job is to get word to the Archon about the attack on Greendell.’
‘What happens then? Where do we go?’
Hamar scratched his head. ‘Can’t say I’ve given it much thought. They’re bound to ask why we were there in the first place, but hopefully the seriousness of our news will concern them more than two harmless travelers.’
‘What if they don’t believe us?’
Hamar frowned. ‘They’ll have to. Never crossed my mind they wouldn’t. What the—?’ They pulled up in front of a barricade with a narrow gate. Hamar scratched his head. ‘Don’t remember a gate being here.’ Hinges creaked as it swung open. Two guards emerged. The taller of the two leveled his spear at Toryn’s chest.
‘State your purpose at Drunsberg?’
Hamar murmured. ‘Leave this to me, lad.’ He held up his hand and addressed the guard. ‘We’re unarmed, well what I mean is I don’t have my sword in my hand right now, it’s in—’
‘State your purpose, or turnabout, and return the way you came.’
Hamar retreated. ‘Let’s all stay calm. I… we have news the Archon must hear.’
The first man laughed. ‘The Archon? I’m afraid you’re several hundred leagues too far north.’ He grinned at his colleague. ‘What do you think these two scruffs could possibly know that the Archon would find so important?’
The second man shrugged. ‘I doubt it’s where to get a hot bath.’
Toryn raised his voice above the mirth of the guards. ‘There was an attack, at Greendell, they killed—’
‘Then what’s the problem, sonny? It would be news if there wasn’t a raid these days.’
Hamar disagreed. ‘This is different. These were not Ruuk. A dark power destroyed the place.’
‘And what would you know, Granddad?’
Hamar straightened and held up his arm as if challenging the man to an arm-wrestling bout. ‘I’ll have you know I served sixteen years in the Archonian Guard, back in the day when we earned respect. The name is Hamar.’
The guards withdrew their spears. ‘Hamar? Not the Hamar of Darrow?’
Toryn gawped. ‘They know you? After all this time?’
Hamar beamed at the guards. ‘The very same.’
‘Then why didn’t you say so. Sorry about the… err… banter, but you know what it’s like to spend twelve hours on watch.’ He taped his forehead and grimaced. ‘Especially on an early morning after a heavy night.’ He stepped forward and gripped Hamar’s hand as they held their forearms together. ‘Good to meet a veteran, and one of such standing. Stories of your escapades are still doing the rounds.’ Toryn stood astonished as both the guards bowed. ‘Please, accept our apology, Hamar.’
‘Accepted. Never enjoyed the long watches myself. Now can you please take us to your captain.’
The second nodded over Hamar’s shoulder. ‘Sorry, but I have to ask. Who’s your companion? And where you from?’
‘This lad? Oh, he’s… my grandson. We had business with a veteran from Greendell. We saw the smoke, went to see what had happened, and came here to report it. Trust me, this isn’t your usual raid, it’s far more serious. And a number of veterans met with a ghastly, undeserved end.’
The guard nodded. ‘We’re seeing more attacks in the area, but we can’t be everywhere. Best get you two inside.’ He turned and calle
d over the gate. ‘Open up, Gregor. You’ll never guess who’s come to join us.’
A face peered over the top. ‘Unless it’s a dozen Amayan warriors, or at the very least, six, I’m not interested.’
‘Ha! You wish. No, you fool, it’s Hamar, Hamar of Darrow.’
Gregor tugged the gate open. ‘You’re kidding.’ He extended his arm like the first guard. ‘By the Three. I look forward to hearing the stories later.’
His colleague called through. ‘Take them to Ox, but keep it to yourself. There’ll be a stampede once word gets out old Hamar is here. It’s vital the captain hears what they have to say first.’ He saluted and led them through. As they passed, the first guard patted Hamar’s shoulder. ‘It’ll be good to have you with us.’ He pointed to his backpack. ‘Hope your sword is sharp, your eyes still good, and your arm strong. You may need your skills before long.’
Gregor led them up the final approach to the South Gate. Ahead, the barricade spanned the ravine, standing three times the height of a man. Gregor saw Toryn’s eyes widen. ‘The northern fence is twice the height. Can’t be too cautious these days.’
Beneath the platform, a small trapdoor opened. Filthy water spewed out from the beast. A breeze blew the waste towards Toryn. Gregor took his arm. ‘Careful, sonny, you might be dirty from the road, but you don’t want to be taking a shower in that muck.’ As they drew close, another door opened; this time Toryn made sure he stood well clear of the edge.
Gregor stopped at the gate and called up to the barricade. The gate swung open and a waft of stale air washed over them. Toryn held his nose. The guard laughed. ‘You get used to it after a while. You’ll have to if you want to breathe.’
Once inside, the scale of the settlement took Toryn’s mind off the stench settling at the back of his throat. The road ran uphill along the side of the gray mountain towards large slabs of stone about a hundred paces ahead. Gregor informed him. ‘That’s the entrance to the mines, and where we’re heading.’ Beyond, the fortifications on the north side of the town rose between the buildings like a black wave gushing down the ravine.
A trumpet blared. Gregor ushered Toryn and Hamar off the track. ‘Stand aside, there’s a shipment coming through. We’ll clear the way and take the scenic route.’ He led them down a narrow alley hemmed in by wooden buildings four floors high. The air thickened in the gloom as the old structures leaned so far over their roofs shut out the sky. Gregor spoke as they squeezed passed the inhabitants going about their morning duties; most involved sloshing buckets of water along the alleys strewn with debris from the night before. One yelled. ‘Stand clear!’ He knocked back a bolt and a trapdoor burst open. Three men brushed the swill towards the gaping hole, then stood back, leaning on their brooms as the waste evacuated the town.
Gregor grinned. ‘A recent addition to the town. Very useful, but watch your step. We’ve had the odd accident.’ He chuckled. ‘It may be the quickest way out of Drunsberg, but I still recommend the road.’ Gregor waited for the men to secure the door before guiding them around the edge and further up the alley. He called over his shoulder. ‘The captain’s quarters are close to the entrance to the mine. You’ll be pleased to hear the air is a little fresher up there.’
Toryn whispered to Hamar. ‘How can they live like this?’
The old man shrugged. ‘As I said, there’s riches to be made here. Not so for the guardsmen, but they rotate on escorting the wagons so get two months at a time away from the place.’
They reached the end of the alley and stepped out into the small square in front of the mountain wall. Two-dozen steps led up to a wide opening fashioned into the rock like an entrance to a grand hall. Toryn marveled at the intricate carvings of trees surrounding the entrance. Hamar nodded to the decoration. ‘Obviously they had more time on their hands in quieter times. And you can see what they missed living so far north.’
Gregor led them up the steps. At the top, Toryn turned back to the town. He marveled at the haphazard roofs sloping at all angles. Newer houses appeared to be built on top of older structures, or slotted into spaces once considered too small. He hoped the struts below could still bear the town’s weight.
‘This way, lad.’ Gregor ushered them through the entrance to the mines. Inside, Toryn shivered in the cool air, but as Gregor promised, it smelled a little better. A long tunnel lined with doorways stretched out before them. Toryn counted twenty-two flaming torches jutting out of the smooth walls before the tunnel dipped steeply down.
Gregor pointed to a wooden door under a low arch. ‘You wait here. I’ll go find Ox, err... I mean, Captain Bulstrow.’
‘This is grave news.’ The captain thumped his mug down, sloshing the dark liquid onto the table. Bulstrow lived up to his nickname. Toryn pictured the man bearing a yoke on his broad shoulders and hauling a plow with ease. Bulstrow drummed his fat fingers on the smooth wood. ‘I’ve received no reports of raids that far south before yours. I can’t understand how a sizeable force could have crossed over our border without detection.’
Toryn dared to speak. ‘Could they have killed all the guards at a post? Then they couldn’t send word?’
The captain exchanged a glance with Hamar. ‘It’s possible, but they would have released the birds immediately on sighting such a force, meaning we would have word of it.’
‘Oh, I see.’ Toryn’s faced grew hot.
Hamar came to his defense. ‘He has a point. We saw no sign of a response from the folk of Greendell. Whatever attacked them came in fast. And the damage suggests they had a weapon or some devilry to hand, the likes I’ve never seen. It’s possible they could have taken an outpost by surprise, thus not giving them time to release the birds.’
Bulstrow sighed. ‘That could be so. Our numbers are down. Archonholm recalled my most experienced men only two days ago.’
‘Numbers down!’ Hamar stiffened. ‘How many do you have?’
The captain picked up his pipe. ‘I have one-hundred and twenty able men at arms.’ He shuffled in his seat. ‘Well, most of the time, depending on the night before.’
Hamar whistled. ‘Not nearly enough. Must have been nearly twice that in my day, and we only had to cope with a few rebels. Nothing like the raids I hear about these days. How are you expected to hold on to the place with so few?’
‘We survive. We’ve added more defenses since your day, and there’s close to two hundred miners, many who can handle a weapon.’
Hamar drained his cup. ‘Even so, it makes little sense to put the mines at risk.’
The captain reached into his jacket. ‘You’ll only be too aware, Hamar, common-sense rarely features in command’s decisions, but the Archon himself issued the order. Something about activity he’d seen over the gate.’
‘The Caerwal Gate? How?’
Bulstrow found his tobacco and offered it to Hamar. ‘He’s built a tower by all accounts.’
Hamar took a pinch of tobacco. ‘Activity in the south… we could do without that.’
Toryn’s stomach knotted. ‘But surely the Golesh can’t break through the gate?’ He looked to Hamar. ‘You said it could never happen. Or even if they did, the defenders of Archonholm would drive them back.’
Hamar’s face grew pale. ‘And yet the Archon sees fit to withdraw resources from the mine.’ He rubbed his chin and stared at the table. ‘Perhaps he saw something that poses a greater threat to the gate than we’ve always assumed.’ He slumped back in his chair. ‘This is grave news. We’re threatened from the north, and now the south? I only hope the Archon’s control over the sea still holds.’
A guard burst through the door. He stood gasping. ‘Apologies, Ox’ — he glanced at Hamar — ‘err… Captain, but we’ve just received news the Ruuk have broken through Drunshead.’
Bulstrow groaned. ‘Not again. Yet another repair job. I’ve been telling command for years we need to bolster that gate.’
The man cleared his throat. ‘The survivors reckon the swine will be here within the hour.’
He fidgeted with the handle on his sword. ‘And, Captain, the Ruuk number at least three, maybe as much as four-hundred.’
Bulstrow stood. ‘Four?’ He straightened. ‘Not seen those numbers before. Hopefully, they won’t be able to resist plundering the store at the gate, or the top mine. That’ll delay them. Sound the alarm, make it three blasts. Best fetch the miners out for reserves as a precaution.’ The guard saluted and left.
Hamar pushed back his chair and stood. ‘Happy to help, Captain.’ Toryn stood with him and drew his sword.
Bulstrow held up his big hand. ‘Please, there’s no need. They might have the numbers, but they won’t trouble us. You’ve done your stint, Hamar, I couldn’t ask you and the young lad to put your lives on the line. My men may seem ragged, but they’re well-drilled and experienced. Two outsiders on the barricade may only hinder them, even an old guard of your standing. Trust me, Hamar, when word gets around, it will be enough for the men to know you’re here.’
Hamar unwrapped his sword. ‘I can still handle myself. You don’t have to worry about me, Captain.’
Bulstrow stayed Hamar’s hand. ‘Thank you, but I cannot accept your swords’. He strode to the doorway and peered out as the horn blasted its three notes repeatedly. He turned back. ‘We’ll hurl a few rocks down on their heads as they draw near. That should see them off, but you could assist with the fire buckets. This place is one big tinderbox. It only takes one clumsy archer to kick over a brazier to leave nothing for the robbers to pilfer.’
‘But…?’
‘Please, Hamar, do I have to issue an order?’
Hamar backed down. ‘No, Captain. Toryn and I will be happy to assist at the rear.’
The captain nodded. ‘Good. You’ll do me a great service if you can prevent my backside getting scorched.’ He opened the door and yelled. ‘Elwold! Two new volunteers for fire duty. Show them the drill.’ Bulstrow turned and steered Toryn and Hamar through the door. ‘Bring your swords, keep them handy.’ He glanced at Toryn. ‘Just in case, lad.’
Toryn’s fingers gripped the hilt on his sword as tight as the knot in his belly. He knew many stories of gallant soldiers in battle and always imagined himself at the front of the ranks bringing down the enemy with sweeping blows, but at this moment, his stiff neck and shoulders felt incapable of such feats.
