Authors: Elí Freysson
“The Brotherhood of the Pit,” Garan said quietly and watched them with a rigid gaze. “The Black Blood in power in Pine City. This...” He exhaled slowly, looked away and squirmed with fear he could not direct anywhere. “The Dragon in the shape of man,” he then said to himself.
“The last Dragon was defeated,” Serdra said. “So let us not despair yet.”
The woman’s steady voice and simple reasoning seemed to have a positive effect on Garan and quite possibly Katja as well.
“The soldiers went uphill,” Serdra said and pointed to the slopes to the south-east. “They brought no animals along. No war engines and only the supplies they could carry on their backs. And there were only about three hundred of them. Even if the city is not at full strength that is nowhere near enough to assault it. They would get massacred. Do you know anything about this area?”
“I have gone along it several times,” Garan said and looked in the same direction. “Several hundred men should be able to hide in the hills and if a company tries to get at them they would only have to scale the upper slopes to make an attack on them suicidal. And there are hamlets along the road they can raid for supplies and beasts of burden.”
“So...” Katja ran her fingers through her hair and thought hard. What would she herself do in their shoes? What would the purpose of this whole thing be? “So they mean to either wait in hiding with what little supplies they have until the main force marches south, or they will raid the villages to lure the defenders of Pine City outside of the city wall... or what? There must be a reason why didn’t just sneak back north, in spite of not being able to assault the city itself.”
Both Serdra and Garan seemed to want to say something, but they evidently saw that she wasn’t finished.
“What if they neither go down to the road nor stay in the hills? What if they go down the south side? What’s there?”
“South of the hills?” Garan said and seemed doubtful. “There one essentially has entered the outskirts of Bag River County. There is a poor, narrow road going along the river the hills contribute to. But the southern slopes are just about impassable. Rocky and sheer. I...” Garan thought. “”I think even getting to them would be a challenge, unless one approached them from the east and so passed very close to the city. It would be dangerous for them.”
“But we know the are Brotherhood people in Bag River County,” Katja answered and wasn’t quite ready to dismiss this idea. “They could have supplied the soldiers with a guide who knows the hills and can get them across.”
“And made it possible for them to hide in Bag River County?” Serdra answered. “It is possible but...” She stopped and considered her next words. “But if word got out it could bring Pine City’s army into the county. It would be a risky move.”
“True.”
“The border army must be told what is going on and someone must rouse Duke Kjalar and explain the situation to him,” Serdra said. “This is not a normal war between men and if he cares about his oaths he must come to the city’s aid. And if the Brotherhood’s sorcery, perhaps even the Dragon himself, hide among Valdimar’s soldiers someone who can sense and fight back against such things must be available. Someone who can make strikes and perhaps delay the army slightly as Pine City prepares for the blow.”
Katja put her hands on her hips and felt better at having a task on her hands.
“So that’s our next step.”
“That is
my
next step,” Serdra corrected her. She placed her hands on her pupil’s shoulders before she could protest or complain and stared into her eyes. “Because Pine City will also need to be warned.”
“He can deliver it,” Katja said without thinking and pointed at Garan.
“The city will also need a protector,” Serdra said. “The Brotherhood has probably made a great effort regarding this operation and it is quite possible that they have placed agents within its walls. I don’t know exactly what will happen when the army of Valdimar and the Brotherhood arrives at Pine City, but if the heirs of Zakari truly mean to take power and hold it openly they will no doubt use sorcery to seize the city.”
Serdra held her in place and never looked away. Katja began to truly feel the weight of her gaze as it dawned on her what the woman was saying.
“And then there will a need for someone who can sense sorcery and demons and who understands what is coming. Someone who knows that the unnatural is not invincible and what it will cost the souls of men if the Brotherhood seizes worldy power.”
“I am only one person,” Katja said hesitantly. “I cannot match an army.”
“Neither can I. But in ages past we stood at the front of armies battling the legions of darkness. The red clothes came about so we would be clearly visible. We were symbols of steadfastness against the unnatural. Vanguards. People are naturally inclined to flee from demons and monsters and sorcery, but people will also more often than not follow the example of others. I am not asking you to become a general but if the might of the Dragon hits Pine City you will be needed in some way or another. It will be up to you to react to events and find the right way.”
Serdra released her and took two steps backwards.
“So... so has the moment come?” Katja asked softly and felt a certain dread.
“We stand upon crossroads, Katja. I will to get back south, but if that comes to nothing but you and the city both survive you can consider that your final initiation.”
Katja nodded limply. This could be their moment of parting. She had known it was approaching but this was still a shock.
“You will need a horse to make it to the city,” Garan said. He then looked at Serdra. “And you will presumably need one if you mean to make it to the fort.”
“I will probably need two if I am to make it in time,” the woman replied. “It won’t be long before someone rushes north with the news. It is best I admit immediately that the beasts may very well never return to their owner.”
Garan hesitated and groaned.
“I have always returned whatever I have been entrusted with, but I cannot afford to pay for three horses. But I suppose events overtake us.”
“Saving the city and impeding the plans of the Brotherhood takes presedence,” Katja said.
“Yes,” Garan admitted, though his displeased tone remained.
“But there is yet another task that that must be tended,” Serdra said. “Garan, can you make sure people outside of the city know what is going on?”
“I can do that, yes,” the man said and seemed to straighten up a bit. “I will get the rest of my people to help and soon people far and wide will know what kind of trick is being played.”
“And know that there are enemies in those hills,” Katja added and looked upwards.
“Which route will you take?” Serdra asked.
The question caught the young Redcloak off-guard. Usually the woman decided the course of action.
Could this be a test?
she thought and for a moment she wanted to laugh.
“If I use the road I will probably make it sooner,” she said while thinking it over. “But then I also risk encountering this raider party, if they mean to cause further havoc. If I go south along the hills it will take me longer,” she looked at Garan, who nodded, “and will have entered the edge of Brotherhood territory.”
“Gotten close to it, at least,” the Shade said. “The path there isn’t terribly good but is still a relatively busy way to and from the city.”
Katja covered her eyes and went over the situation. To pass close to several hundred knew she knew for a fact were about, or close to possible enemies who were fewer in numbers and yet more dangerous in a different way?
“I will take the southern route,” she then said, somewhat haltingly, and put more confidence in her next words. “There is no reson to assume Brotherhood-men who see me will recognize me as a foe, but Valdimar’s men are actively looking for trouble. And I sense sorcery better than I sense people.”
Serdra nodded.
“Very well.”
“You two have no supplies,” Garan pointed out. “Nor any equipment other than your clothes and blades.”
“I can steal food on my way north,” Serdra said and removed a purse from her belt. “Katja, this should make things easier for you.” She threw the purse to Katja, who caught it and looked at it a moment before tying it next to her own. Two small things were better than one.
Garan handed her the reins of one of the horses and Katja stroked this animal which would hopefully bring her to the city.
“Well,” she said and looked at them both. Her gaze lingered particularly on Serdra. This could be their farewell. They might never seen one another again and from here on out she would have to manage on her own. She felt a need to memorize her mentor as well as she could, and engrave this moment in her mind.
But duty called.
“Good fortune to you both,” Garan said severely. “You... you shoulder a great responsibility. Hopefully you can aid Pine City as well as you aided us.”
“Go in peace, Garan. Your order has yet again proven its worth.”
The man handed Serdra two sets of reins, then mounted the forth one and headed off.
That left the two of them alone by the ruins of the fort.
“Thank you for everything,” Katja said.
“Likewise,” Serdra said. “Remember what I have taught you and be ever eager to learn on your own.” The woman hesitated a bit. “Battling the Dragon is a new experience for me. Should I fall, your training has been a good final task.”
Katja chuckled though she wasn’t amused.
“Let us not grieve for one another just yet. Good luck.”
Serdra nodded and turned to the horse, but then looked back at her.
“Katja.”
Serdra took the moonblade from her belt.
“Take this. It could prove useful.”
Katja received the knife and fastened the scabbard in her belt, next to her regular knife.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Farewell,” her mentor said. “I hope we will meet again.”
They did not have the luxury of further time or words. They mounted and steered the horses into opposite directions. The fort and its implications remained behind.
It felt strange to be on her own. Not just off by herself, or tending to a matter for a little while as Serdra tended to another one nearby, but truly alone.
Now the extent of her capabilities would become clear. She had no safety line. No hope up her sleeve that her mighty mentor might show up and save her, at least not for several days.
It was just her.
Several feelings battled in her soul. To a degree this was what she wanted and had known was coming. She was excited, she was glad and she was afraid.
Just as every other step of her training since leaving home this was just something she would have to get used to.
The hills passed by on her left as the sun rose higher. They were rather beautiful. Above the lines of cliffs they were forested, but beneath that line there was little to see other than grey walls and the occasional waterfall, and Katja understood why Garan had had little faith that the raiders would scatter into Bag River County.
Still, she was careful to always keep an eye on the slopes in case she passed by a portion that wasn’t as steep. She also watched her immediate surroundings, with both her ordinary senses and the special ones. There was much to keep in mind. She did not want to die on her first solo journey, and before getting to the main fight at that.
She didn’t see many signs of habitation. She would occasionally glimpse trails separating from the road and leading south, presumably towards hamlets or farms, but aside from that the only sights throughout the morning were trees, hills and the occasional field. At one point she glimpsed a house in the distance, but given the state of the field around it could very well have been deserted.
Hunger began to gnaw at her as noon approached, but she had no supplies and the money would be of little use until she found other people. She did stop and find herself a clearing that wasn’t too visible from the road, in which to rest herself and the horse and let it graze.
The horse seemed fairly stout but no more than that. She would have to be careful not to wear it out. Valdimar’s army could hardly be fleet-footed enough to reach the city first if she had to walk, but she would feel most at ease getting there as soon as possible.
Katja drew her new knife and examined it more closely. She tried to swing it around in the clearing and imagined a sparring match against Serdra. The woman hadn’t taught her to use this particular weapon, but all the training had given her a good sense of the science of melee combat and she believed she understood how to wield it. The inward curve of the edge had to give it fearsome slashing power.
As the horse rested and gazed at her with strange horse thoughts behind those dark eyes she stepped this way and that and slashed about at air. At first she found it entertaining and rather mentally relaxing. Then it occurred to her that she might meet this weapon again once the battle for the city began. After that, figuring the weapon out became
important
.
She somewhat lost herself in the task and by the time the horse seemed ready to continue Katja realized she hadn’t rested herself to any degree and was even hungrier. She tapped her head with the blunt side of the blade and sheathed it.
Fine
.
The journey continued and shortly after noon the river Garan had mentioned began to run along the road. On occasion it seemed like more of a canal and no few irrigation canals had been dug out from it and lay south to the farmlands. The little bridges over them became road markers in her mind and welcome signs of humanity.
Still, it wasn’t until after the fourth stop that she finally met someone.
It was a muddy farmer driving along a donkey dragging a small cart.
Katja cursed not having anything long enough to hide the sword and greeted him. The man had a lethargic gaze and speech and had little interest in chat, which suited Katja just fine. She did him to say that she would soon arrive at a hamlet where she could no doubt get food and lodgings.
Katja caught his eyes resting a moment on her weapons but there was no reaction or interest.
“Thank you,” she said by way of farewell and drove the horse on.
Was this the typical demeanour around these parts or was the man just simple? Or did he perhaps not wish to display interest, due to having something to hide?
Katja cursed her habit of asking questions she could not answer.
The hamlet turned out to consist of five houses a stone’s throw from the road. Katja stopped as soon as she saw it and considered taking off her jacket and wrapping it around the sword.
She almost put the idea into action but then the thought occurred that she might have to brandish it in a hurry. The weapons would have to stay where they were. Hiding them up close would be difficult anyway and she couldn’t very well buy food from shouting distance.
A middle-aged woman was the first person she saw, and Katja approached her without dismounting.
They exchanged greetings and Katja tried to speak fast to convey her hurry and disinterest in chat, but at the same time tried to betray no signs of nervousness. She had no idea how well she did, but at least the woman settled for answering questions rather than asking them.
She said Katja would not arrive at an inn until the next day and then another one a day later. She was eager to part with some bread, cheese and even a bit of pork in return for coins. Katja scarfed the meat down immediately, wrapped the rest up in a rag she got from the woman and tied it to her shoulder. The woman hesitated a bit when Katja asked for a blanket or a cloak as well, but did eventually sell her a woollen blanket at a blown up price.
Katja didn’t let it bother her. This was her situation and Linda would give her shelter in the city.
She voiced her thanks and continued without further ado with the blanket around her waist.
The two of them drank from brooks during rests and Katja ate of the bread while the horse grazed. He tried to get at her bread but Katja would have none of it. Keeping his strength up was important and she hoped to get her hands on oats, but her own strength was more important still.
Finally as evening approached she dared not demand more exertions of him this day, and began to look about for a campsite. She found a spot by the river that was relatively comfortable for the both of them and wasn’t visible from the road.
Katja groaned and rubbed her backside.
“You’re a damn rock pile,” she said quietly, but stroked the horse tenderly. He had served well and it seemed he would carry her to the city at this pace if she took care.
Katja ate of her supplies and cursed in silence as she realized the woman hadn’t told her whether to expect to arrive at the inn early tomorrow or in the evening. She had to save a considerable amount of food in case she would need it the next day.
Then she practised a bit with her weapons. She didn’t have much energy left, but her enemies would not care and she slashed and stabbed at the air for a short while before finally letting herself drop down on the riverbank. If the scum of the Brotherhood surprised her she would hopefully be able to flee into the river and swim. Because no-one would come to her aid.
Alone
.
Katja wrapped herself up in the blanket and stared up along the trees.
This was a certain transitional phase. She was on the edge of becoming her own master, her own mentor, free to follow the Call and protect the world as she saw fit. But first she had to pass through this baptism of fire.
War. If the border fort fell she would taste real battle. And what if the fort
did
hold? What then? Would Serdra come to fetch her once the waves died down?
She had seen what the Brotherhood’s sorcery could do when the wretches dropped all subtlety. If they were with the army Valdimar had sent south the fort could hardly be prepared to face something like that.
A certain part of Katja hoped the army would make it all the way. She stomped on that thought, tried to smother it in birth. People would die if that wish came true. The Brotherhood would perhaps take power and form its own nation. But it would be a greater excitement, a greater experience and a greater trial than anything she had known.
I am crazy.
--------------------
In the morning she ate hurriedly, dunked her head in the river to freshen up and headed off. She tied the blanket around herself, hoping to conceal the weapons at least somewhat, but it probably wouldn’t achieve much up close.
The unremarkable rural environment kept passing by and the hills ever visible to the north were the only signs of progress. Katja would have been bored if not for always having something to worry about. Traffic got thicker. More farmers were passing back and forth after this road and she saw more dwellings in the distance and felt the side paths were growing more common. And there was no shortage of trees and bushes and hills by the road from which an ambush could be sprung.
She felt ever worse at making stops to rest herself and the horse, especially after a man with a bag on his shoulder walked by shortly after she sat down and looked her over carefully from a short distance.
Almost-shaped eyes, black hair, leather clothing, muscles
, Katja thought. The description Vajan must have given to his comrades must have sounded something like that. And he knew she saw somewhere nearby. If he could possibly pass the news around, surely he must have.
Had she chosen the correct route? Had this been the wrong decision, and the northern route the safer one despite the proximity of the raiders?
Katja finished what little bread she had left beneath branches that shielded her from the noonday sun, and fasted after that. When evening was closer than noon she arrived at the inn.
The place was unimpressive, but she had expected as much. A relatively small residential house, built up against a larger cabin that presumably was the guest space. Next to it stood a small stable where two mules rested.
Katja knocked on the door and announced herself and the owner appeared. It was a large, stout, middle-aged woman with tiny eyes. Katja paid for a night and a meal for herself and the horse and the woman called over a young man and ordered him to mind the beast.
Then she showed Katja inside with neither warmth nor hostility. Dinner would be ready in about an hour, she said, and the young lady should just help herself to a sleeping space. Light beer was also available.
The inn-space was one open room housing twelve benches and Katja decided to pick one that didn’t lie up against a wall. The other two guests were playing twelve-man-march on a small wooden board and greeted her disinterestedly before returning to the game.
People sure are bursting with energy around here
, she thought to herself and sat down.
She rested for a little while before seeking out the large woman and asking for hot water. There was no privacy in the sleeping area so she took the tub outside and washed a bit. She had no clean clothes to change into but could at least feel a bit cleaner.
A third man had arrived by the time she returned and was clearly local given the chummy discussions going on around the game.
An old, fat cat wandered about and half-heartedly tried to catch bugs. Katja managed to lure it over and finally had something to occupy herself, namely convincing the cat to let her pick it up and pet it.
Are they looking my way?
Katja thought as she pretended to focus entirely on the purring cat. She didn’t notice as much but still felt terribly exposed.
Two near-identical women and a weary, dusty man came in just before the old woman served a brown stew, which had a decent flavour and warmth and so was a fine change from dry bread and nothing. The beer was next and Katja allowed herself to buy one mug.
The cat had abandoned her by this time and she lay down and tried to make herself comfortable as the other guests chatted. She kept her eyes closed and listened with interest in hope of finding something out.
The war was mentioned, of course. News of the fort evidently hadn’t arrived here yet, but people talked about the possible consequences of Valdimar’s invasion. The main fear seemed to concern land being seized and given to northerners, but the Red Day was also brought up.
Aside from that folks just shared rural gossip and eventually people lay down for the night.
Katja listened to one breath after another slow down and move into the realm of sleep, but lay wide awake herself. She couldn’t relax. She couldn’t stop listening for quiet footsteps in the sleeping space or go over the fastest way to grasp a weapon.
She seemed to have accepted death in combat. But she didn’t want to be murdered in her sleep. She wanted to see the blow coming and brace for it.
Eventually Katja gave up on trying to soothe herself and sat up very carefully. She crept to the door with the blanket around herself, and then leapt back and drew the moonblade when something living touched her leg. But it was just the cat and Katja cursed her own foolishness. No-one seemed to have roused, so she opened the door slowly, stepped outside and closed it. Then she went back down to the river and found a place for the night.