Dragonhammer: Volume I (27 page)

“Because the last thing they need is a creep like you.”

“We weren’t doing anything,” says the second.

“And even if we were, why would it matter?” adds the first.  The girl rips herself from his hand and stands but he snags her arm.

I stand, towering over them both.  “You release her,” I command.  “Now.”

“Why do you care?” he asks.

“Let me ask you this,” I start as I walk towards him quickly.  He cowers as my form looms over his.  “Do you care for your life?”  He is engulfed in my shadow.  He says nothing, but slowly lets go of the girl.  His companion does the same.  “Good choice,” I seethe.  “Now get out.”

He doesn’t waste any time drinking whatever remains in his tankard.  There’s an awkward moment where he does nothing.  Then he whisks away and out the door.

The girl looks in awe at me, as do her three friends.  I merely nod to them and sit back down in my chair to finish my drink.

“I’m so glad you’re my friend,” says James quietly.  A smile tugs at my lips as I bring the tankard to my mouth.

“We should get going,” says James.  “It’s starting to get dark.”

“As should they,” I respond, referring to the girls sitting at the table.  They’re still in shock, trying to figure out what has just happened.

As we stand, they stand to leave as well.  On a whim, Percival suddenly asks one of them, “Would you like us to escort you home?”

They’re as shocked as I am.  Immediately they agree but the only thought going through my head is,
Oh, Percival, what have you gotten us into?

They ask us our names, and we learn theirs.  I walk silently in the back the entire way.  Luckily they live close by each other, and two of them are sisters.  It’s the sisters that we drop off last, and the younger one goes in first.  The elder sister is the one that had approached me in the tavern.  Her name is Serena.

She and Percival had walked the whole way side-by-side, talking.  In fact, each of us, but for me, had been holding our own conversations with one of the young women.  I stayed to myself and my thought.  Nathaniel had actually been talking to Serena’s younger sister.

“Thanks,” I hear Serena say to Percival.  James gives me a look that says,
We should leave them
.  I agree silently and we make our way down the street without Percival.  He hardly seems to notice, carrying on a conversation of some sort with Serena.  We walk out of earshot, so we cannot hear what they are saying.  When I look back, I see Serena pounce on him in a big hug.  He’s stunned and stands stiffly until she retreats.  Then she walks into the house and he realizes he’s alone on the street.  He runs to catch up to us.

“What’d you talk about?” James asks slyly.

“Nothing…” Percival says wistfully.

James shrugs.  “Alright then.”

We make it back to the keep just before the drawbridge lifts.  We sleep soundly, once we find our room.

The next morning a guard shows us to the kitchens and allows us to take some food for our journey home.  I help myself to a few loaves of bread and some fruit.  Then we leave the keep.

As we walk across the bridge Percival looks back several times.  I say nothing until we are on the road walking back towards Thrak, when he gazes at the city until it disappears behind the mountains.

“It’s that girl,” I say.  “Isn’t it?”  Percival and I walk behind the other three, who are talking about something or another that I don’t care to listen to.

He nods.  “It’s stupid…” he mutters, shaking his head.

“No,” I respond.  “It’s not.”

He gives me a puzzled look.

“It’s not stupid at all,” I murmur, looking forward at the road.

An Unpleasant Affair

T
he journey back is shorter:  only a week.  We arrive just after midday on the seventh day.  We are welcomed back, and immediately Jarl Hralfar and Jarl Kjunn want to meet with me.  “After I eat and rest,” I respond.

I honor my promise and go to the council room when I feel rejuvenated enough.  Of course, they want to know what the whole thing was about and how it went.

“He wanted to make me a commander,” I respond.

Hralfar raises an eyebrow.  “Is that it?”

“For the most part.  He wanted to award me with something more, but I declined.”  I deliberately neglect to tell them about his agreement to care for my mother.

Hralfar nods as Kjunn’s face contorts.  “I thought as much,” says Hralfar.  “For the same reasons you first declined to become a captain?”

I nod.

“Did he have anything more to say?”

“Only that he plans for us to stay here and protect against any attack Tygnar might send.”

Once again Kjunn’s expression shows his dissatisfaction, though he says nothing.

“Understandable,” Hralfar comments.  “Was there anything else?”

“Nothing that comes to mind.”

He nods.  “You may go.” 

I hesitate.

“Is there something you wish to discuss?” Kjunn asks.

I shake the thought from my head.  “No.  Nevermind.”  I bow slightly and walk from the room.

Thrak’s training grounds lie layered on terraces to the side of the keep.  They are small and consist only of practice dummies and targets.  Most of the training takes place with leather and wool pads over our weapons so that we don’t kill each other as we spar.  This has little effect on warhammers and maces, so I refrain from sparring, but still everyone comes away with bumps and bruises.  Everybody but me.

Genevieve now wields the sword of Lucius Swordbreaker.  She practices moves on dummies, but the sword will not light on the soft material.  Only when it hits or scrapes against metal will it begin to glow and then burn.

A soldier approaches me as I practice slow moves against a practice dummy.  This one is reinforced with iron bars rather than wooden poles, as I tend to break the wooden ones.

“Captain!” he greets.

“Yes?” I respond.  I have not yet grown accustomed to the name of ‘captain,’ though I have had it for while now.

“I’m sorry to disrupt your training sir, but I, with all due respect sir, would challenge you to a spar.”

I raise an eyebrow.  “Really?”

“Yes, Captain.  You are the mightiest of us all, and there are many things I could learn from you.”

James gives me a nod and Percival shrugs.  Nathaniel and Jericho are still going at each other with their blunted weapons.

“Very well,” I mutter, hefting my hammer, which is already appropriately fitted for the duel.  Not that a pad on the hammer head will do anything to dull the pain.

He lifts his sword, which has some sort of thin sheath on it to keep the sharpness from killing somebody on accident.  He holds a shield on his right hand, and fights with his left.

Let’s get this over with,
I think.  He stands ready, and then pounces.  Easily I bounce his sword to the side and knock him in the chest, just lightly enough to land him on his back.   He looks down at the hammer head placed above his sternum.

“What did you learn?” I ask, genuinely curious.

As I help him up, he answers, “Not to be so eager to strike.”

I nod.  “What else?”

He runs through the few seconds in which the battle took place.  Then he shakes his head.

“You left yourself open with the lunge,” I criticize.  “All I had to do was knock your weapon to the side and you were wide open, even with the shield.”

He nods.  “I’d like another go.”

“Very well,” I respond.  Then we take our places and ready ourselves.

This time he stays back, hovering. 
He’s waiting for me
, I realize. 
Well then let’s give it to him.

My first strike is one that I allow him to block.  After the second he retaliates and I deflect it with a blow of the hammer.  Then after another moment, I lash out, get through his block in a single swift movement, and knock him to the ground.  A little bit of a crowd has started to form.

He gets up with a grunt of disappointment.  Nathaniel and Jericho, the victor having been the former, are now watching me.

“No more,” I mutter.

“I’d like to try!” says a soldier.  Then he adds quickly, “If I may, Captain?”

Reluctantly I nod.

This battle goes much the same, without much of a fight.  I wouldn’t go as far to call it a battle or even a fight.

Another soldier pops up after I throw down a third.  Just about everybody on the training grounds is watching.

“No more,” I say louder.

The soldier backs down.  “As you wish, Captain.”

“Why not?”  Genevieve stands behind me, next to James.  Her sword is out and uncovered, revealing the milky white blade.

“This is a training ground,” I mutter.  “Not a stage.  I refuse to participate if the purpose is to see if they can best me.”

“Is it because you are afraid you will lose?” she replies coldly.

“I won’t,” I say quietly.  “And you know I won’t.  You learned that the hard way in Amgid.”

She looks down, trying to burn holes in the bright green grass.  There’s a light wind that rustles the longer blades.

Then I walk to my practice dummy and resume my training.  The crowd breaks up.

Genevieve does not move until the crowd is gone and they have picked up their training where they left off.  Then James approaches her.

“I’ll take that duel,” he says.

“Why?” she asks, eyes narrowed.

“The same reason you challenged,” he retaliates, removing the cover from his sword.  Her face softens and then a dark smile begins to tug at her lips.

“I approve,” she says.

They take their places across from each other and ready themselves.  James is taller and broader than Genevieve, but the sword she wields requires both of her hands.  James holds his shorter sword in his right, and a circular shield in his left.

He’s so dead,
I think to myself.  His lack of experience and training places him far behind Genevieve in terms of skill.  James, however, seems to be a natural.

They trade a few blows, neither with any success.  Apparently Genevieve’s thoughts were along the same track as mine, as she seems surprised at his ability to stave off her every attack.  Her eyes narrow and she tries again.

This time he is tested.  Their blades clang only once or twice, and then he uses his shield to block a couple of strokes.  He lashes out from behind his shield once, and she barely has time to parry his blow.  As their blades connect again, they scrape off of each other and Genevieve’s blade lights noiselessly, though the loud
shing
echoes about the mountainside.

Undeterred, James begins an onslaught of blows.  Their blades spin around each other, and then Genevieve raises her flaming sword.  It comes down into his shield and he rolls with the blow, slamming his sword into hers so that it is knocked away from her body.  She recovers too quickly for him to strike, so he bashes with his shield.

This, she was not expecting.  One of her hands lets go of the sword in her surprise, leaving it supported only by her right.  James bashes once again and the blade flies from her grasp.  Genevieve twists and falls to the ground.  She has just enough time to turn over and sit upright before his sword points at her neck.

He stands with his sword pointed downward at her, and his shield dangling to his left side.  She sits on her rear with one hand on the ground and the other above her head, as if she could stop the blow with her hand.

James sticks his sword in the ground and offers his hand.  She hesitates, but then takes it and he pulls her up.  Nathaniel picks up the flaming sword to keep it from catching the grass on fire, but the area around it is already black and charred.

“James, right?” asks Magnus.

James only nods.

“Well fought, soldier,” she says.  “Well fought.”

She takes her sword from Nathaniel and walks away briskly.

I give James a small smile and congratulate him.

“That was hard,” he says.  “But a little fun.”

“Looked like it,” I joke.  He shakes his head and walks to Percival to resume whatever they had been doing before.

I begin practicing another move on the dummy.  Only a few seconds later, a soldier comes running at me across the grounds from the keep.  I ignore him until he stands within fighting distance.  Then he stops and says, slightly out of breath, “Captain Armstrong!  Jarl Hralfar summons your presence immediately!”

“What for?” I ask.  Silently I add the words,
What could it be this time?

“He didn’t say!  Only that it was urgent!  He requires you without delay!”

“Very well,” I answer, slightly worried.  “Lead me to him.”

Percival, James, Nathaniel, and Jericho notice the scene and follow me towards the keep.  The messenger runs anxiously, and I run to keep up.  The others seem slightly annoyed, but curious and just as uneasy as me.

We enter the main gate and walk through a few halls and up some stairs.  Both Jarls wait in the too-familiar council room.

“Captain!” they announce simultaneously as I enter with my friends on my heels.

“What’s this about?” I ask.  “Why the urgency?”

“We just received a message from one of our spies,” explains Jarl Hralfar.

Before waiting for more information I ask, “Where is he stationed?”

“Rakma,” he answers.  “A small town outside of Kera.”

I give him a puzzled look.  “Why there?”

“Exactly for this reason,” he responds impatiently.  “Now let me finish!”  I nod and gesture for him to continue.  He proceeds, “We received a message from our spy in Rakma, saying that he intercepted Tygnar’s plans.”

“How did he get them there?” I ask.

“I don’t know!” fumes the Jarl.  “Is it important?”  When I don’t answer, he plows onward, “Their plans are not a direct attack of any kind, nor are they of large magnitude.  They are trying to get rid of you!”

“Obviously,” I mutter.  Louder, I say, “I haven’t heard anything that benefits us.  What is the problem?”

“They are not planning to kill you in battle,” says they Jarl.  “They plan on destroying you another way.  They saw what damage the death of your father did to you.  Now they plan to kill your mother.”

My eyes widen.  “I have to leave.  Now.”

Kjunn jumps up.  “Are you out of your mind?  You can’t leave us now!  You’re a captain here!  Now you want to leave us and travel by yourself to get to your mother before Tygnar does?!  Surely you are not that stupid!”

“You’re right,” I say darkly. “They can come with me.”  I gesture to my friends on either side of me.  Though I volunteered them, they agree with nods and gestures of their own.

“But you can’t leave us!” argues Kjunn.  “We can send another-”

“Stop me,” I command.  “If I can’t leave, then stop me.”  Both Jarls look at me, astonished.  “This is my mother we’re talking about,” I say.  “This is her life.  The dearest family member I have left and you are trying to deny me the right of being there for her.”  They are at a loss for words, flabbergasted at the words coming from my mouth.  “Stop me.”

Finally Jarl Hralfar speaks softly, “I cannot.”

“That’s what I thought,” I respond.  “I will leave immediately.  Those who wish to accompany me may come.”

The Jarls agree silently.  “When you return,” says Kjunn, “I may not be here.  There are some things I need to finish up and oversee in Kera.  Stop there on your return journey.”

I acknowledge his request with a simple nod.

“Safe journey,” says Hralfar.  “May your mother be safe and sound when you reach her.  Return quickly.”

“Of course,” I reply.  Then I leave the room with the others on my heels.