Dark Age (10 page)

I was absorbed by Terric’s words. Despite being afraid of asking for any more than he already opened up to me, my curiosity pushed me further, “What… what are these things out there?”

“Some of them look like brutes, sheer monsters. Others look unmistakably like you and me. What some have in power, the others have in cunning. Many of my men have been tempted and tricked by the latter. There is just one thing I can tell you,” Terric slowed his speech and looked me in the eyes, “they might look like us, but their souls are possessed by hatred. The most deceptive things in this world are what our eyes entrust us with.”

Chapter 12

“
T
ake a seat
everyone, and don’t touch the leaves,” Terric ordered as we entered the common-hall. Nigel, Peter, James and I hid in the last row behind the other first and second trimester students. Terric took his position in the front of the common-hall where usually the food was given out, “Today as part of your survival training, I will introduce you to some plants that can either save or kill you, so pay close attention.”

Nigel stretched his lanky arms and yawned luxuriously. “Boring,” he whispered, extending his vowels as if he were physically bored by the lecture.

“See, in the city I would find a nice girl and skip classes like these,” Peter said with a bragging grin.

“I loved taking out ya mother during class, ya’r completely right,” Nigel said with an even more triumphant smile.

Peter punched Nigel in the side, who then bumped into James. “Gentlemen, calm down,” James said furiously, shaking his head from annoyance, “some of us are trying to pay attention.”

Peter and Nigel mocked James and continued with their games. After listening to Peter rant about his girl adventures for ten minutes I jumped in, “Peter has one big mouth, but he never actually touched a girl.”

“Oh really?” said Peter tilting his head. “At your celebration while you were feasting with the Inquisitor I was feasting on the butcher’s daughter.”

“The butcher’s daughter, Johanna? What a whore! I had her before too,” Nigel yelled baffled.

“Quiet down and pay attention you idiots!” said Terric, whom we had already forgotten in the midst of our conversation.

“My parents always said: ‘Sharing is caring’,” whispered Peter patting Nigel on the back, “Adam on the other hand doesn’t like to share. Did you know he met with the Inquisitor’s ward at night sometimes?”

Nigel looked at me in disbelieve. “We looked through her telescope and talked, that is all,” I said defensively.

“Looked through her telescope, I am sure,” Peter laughed.

“Shut up, we were just friends,” I said getting progressively louder.

“That’s enough! Blacksmith, come up here,” Terric yelled angrily.

I hesitated for a moment. After he insisted, I got up and walked to the front of the room. Everyone’s eyes were glued on me as I faced Terric in the front of the hall. He turned to me with two leaves in his hand. They were seemingly identical, with the same light green and slim shape. One of the two had pointy edges, while the other was smooth. That was their only difference.

“You are alone in a cave, starving, and can find absolutely no game,” he said. “Which of the two would you eat?”

“That’s simple,” I said pretending to know. I did not want Terric to think any less of me. Over the past weeks I had talked with him almost every night and looked up to him more and more by the day. Observing the leaves I thought carefully. The rough edges appeared less edible than the soft ones, so I grabbed the latter from his hand ready to put it in my mouth.

His hand shot out and stopped my arm. “Foolish naïve kids. That’s what all of you still are. It’s time to separate the men from the boys,” he looked at me and ripped the leave from my hand. “You my friend might have just died. In a matter of three minutes the poison would have paralyzed your nerves, leaving you immobile and permanently disabled.” Terric tossed the leaves back on the table, turning towards the other observers, “All of you can keep talking and dreaming about life in the city, or you can pay attention and actually make it back. The choice is yours. Just don’t let me be the one that has to pick up your dead bodies from the forest floor when you chose the wrong berries to eat.” He paused, “I am done here. I will see you all tomorrow.” Without another word Terric walked out of the common-hall, leaving me in front of the crowd ashamed.

The sun had reached its peak. It was the only time when the sun’s rays eliminated the sickening cold of winter. Inside the city it was cold too, but we hardly spent half as much time outside as in the Guard. Peter, Nigel, and I briskly made our way to the shooting range located in the training complex facing the outer wall. Around thirty bales of straw were lined up along the wall, which was covered with arrow marks. Each bale was decorated by a red circle with a black dot at its center. As we picked up our bows some thirty to forty yards from the targets, the recruits went quiet.

Master Yorick entered the range behind us with his powerful dark presence. He was a man as agile as a snake and yet as strong as a dragon. It was hard to tell his age as his white head was shaved bald with nothing but a scar above his right eye. The only indicator was a short dark beard at the chin that had begun to grey.

“Raise and aim!” he ordered without any introduction. With my left arm stretched, I held the bow out in front of me, aiming the arrow an inch above the target.

“Draw!” Yorick yelled, passing the ranks to check for proper form.

“Fire!” In almost perfect unison, the score of arrows flew off like the sound of a straw catching fire.

“That was awful, let’s try that again,” Yorick said glancing at the arrow spiked wall, “Raise!”

It was a tiring yet meditative routine. Both focus and strength had to be intertwined. There was no space for frustration because any negative emotion guaranteed one to miss the next arrow as well. In order to hit I had to visualize the arrow striking its target before it was even released. To complete the day’s training we had to pierce three consecutive arrows into the black center.

After hours of practice I came to understand that using a bow was both an art and a science. A lot of it was just talent and feeling. Whenever we all missed our targets, Yorick would pull out a bow and spike a target with three arrows, dead center, in less than five seconds. He didn’t aim, he didn’t measure, he didn’t wait. He just knew his bow and had an unparalleled control over it.

I on the other hand, who lacked any sort of talent at this point, had to compensate with science. After every shot I remembered the location of the arrow tip and noted how far I drew the bowstring. Once I had hit the target it was a mere labor of exact repetition. Certainly, if an enemy had been there I would not have stood a chance, but at the very least it helped me gain a feeling for the distance.

After around ten rotations of three shots, I finally nailed all three into the red center. Yorick glanced over to check for completions and lifted his thumb, “Well done, Blacksmith.”

Nigel was still trying when I joined a group of recruits that had completed the task. Peter was among them. He had been done after only two rotations. The work in the blacksmith shop had given me strong arms at most; he on the other hand had the steady precision of a barber.

Yorick was leaning back on a high chair, overseeing the entire range. The recruits that were done had assembled on the floor around him, listening to him speak.

“That’s a good question,” he said. “Recruits always ask me what to do when your group is ambushed and someone gets wounded. It’s simple. When you see blood or hear a scream, run as fast as you can to the outer wall,” he looked around with a vivid yet cold gaze. Some of us were in protest about this cowardly advice. If a friend of mine were hurt, I would never run, I thought. “I don’t care if it is your best friend, brother, heck even if your own mother finds a way out there. There is no place for being a hero outside the wall. Many have tried and got rolled into the city on a cart alongside the friends they tried to save. Terric will try to teach you valor, comraderie, and all that nonsense. I will teach you survival. Here in the Guard it is just you, and only you. The moment you start thinking about someone else, you are one step closer to your own death. Call me an egoist, a cold bastard or whatever you want, but deep inside you know I am right. And when something happens, you will thank me.”

No one responded. A few nodded, wherefore he continued his little monologue while more and more recruits joined us, “Terric is an idealist and will one day get himself killed. I am sure you have wondered why all the men that have made it back inside the gates are so somber and silent. They have seen the things you are bound to see. But more importantly, they remember the price they had to pay to belong to the survivors. One of these days within the next ten years some of you will make a deal with the devil to belong to those few that live.”

A long silence took over. No one knew what to say. With his big hands Yorick suddenly clapped in a slow rhythm, “Thank God, Nigel! I thought I would have to sit here all night. Well, enough for now, you are dismissed. Go grab some lunch.”

The three of us immediately raced to the common-hall. With growling stomachs we were lucky to be the first ones there. As we waited for our food, Peter incessantly poked fun at Nigel for his horrendous arching skills, “If we are zoned together outside the wall, I will break your bow with my own hands. You are like a child. If I don’t keep it out of your reach you might hurt yourself.”

“I think he’s trying to overcompensate for something with his ego,” I laughed.

“Adam, didn’t you see him? He hit the wrong target. Twice.”

“That’s enough, Peter,” James said, sitting down next to me, “go enjoy your…,” he paused for a moment, poking the brown mass on his plate with a fork, “beef, or whatever that is.”

“Let’s hope it’s beef,” I said. “Where is Stephan? I haven’t seen him or the other third trimester recruits all day.”

“Since they are almost done with their training, the commanders decided to take them out for an excursion,” James said. “When we took herbal lessons with Terric, Yorick led them out to the woods. I assume he left them there.”

“A bunch of recruits out there alone?” asked Peter confused, “They don’t even get to wear their armor yet.”

A gauntlet as dark as burnt ashes hit the table from the far end. We all looked up and found Yorick who had passed by to pick up his lunch. “Better they get the experience now, than when they are out there in even smaller groups,” he said. “The outer wall will not always be there to protect you.”

Talking to Yorick gave me a sense of inferiority. I would not have dared to speak out against him, knowing that he could crack my skull with his mere hands. Judging by the looks on the other’s faces, they felt the same.

“When will they be back?” I finally managed to get out.

Yorick waved me off as if talking to a concerned mother, “The worst that could happen is that spiders crawl on them while they sleep. We set their camp up in a location where we have never been attacked.” Leaving us, he turned around for a short moment, “You four seem to have too much time. Idleness allows our minds to drift and worry. Finish up and repair the stables, they need some fortification before the snow hits us.”

The day slowly faded as the sun spread its golden-purple light across the horizon. The warmth of its rays steadily seeped away, while the first few snowflakes began to trickle from the evening sky. After three hours we had covered all the holes in the horse stable and doubled the wall on the lower half of the livestock stable.

“When can we leave?” Nigel asked for the seventh time while hammering a nail into yet another plank.

“I’m sure Yorick will dismiss us, I don’t want any more trouble with that man,” James responded in a rushed voice while handing him the next plank.

A horn sounded beyond the outer wall. Silence took over the settlement. We stopped for a moment and looked around. The guards on the wall pointed wildly to the Northeast. A scream pierced through the air. Within seconds the bell on top of the outer wall rang wildly.

Immediately we dropped all our tools and ran to the common-hall. By the time we reached its entrance, the gate of the outer wall opened. Three recruits ran inside, as if chased by the devil. Their uniforms were ragged, and some of their faces were spattered with blood. One of them had a broken arrow sticking out of his side. Stephan to our despair was not among them.

Terric and Yorick came charging from the officer house. Yorick fastened a mounted crossbow to his right arm while Terric attached two extra one handed swords to his belt. Like war machines they walked up to the wounded recruits and asked for their target.