“I’m not sure how much you trust that orc of yours…” She glances back towards the door, at the same time removing a dirty-looking sack from a cabinet in the sparsely-furnished small room.
“He’s a friend,” I say. “He can come in.”
“Very well.”
I open the door again and usher Lugg in. Josa moves to another door at the back of the room and leads us outside to a narrow lane down the side of the house. “It’s essential that the artefacts don’t fall into the wrong hands,” she says as she goes. “And there are still several more to gather.”
“Maleki sent someone to speak to the dwarves. And I have one of the things here. Do you want me to give them to you?”
“No. The time has come to give them to our chosen hero.”
As Lugg falls in behind, Josa turns and goes not towards the street again but towards the back of the dwelling, stopping on reaching an open sandy area behind.
There I see Dakkir Mac-Shinter, the veteran shadow knight, together with two of his young apprentices, soldiers that he was training back on Zagra. The pair are sparring with short swords, and we spend some time watching their skilful display. One is a youthful man with short curly hair – he could be the one who served us a meal when we visited the knight – not long ago in game time, but it certainly feels like a while back now. The other is a young woman, who doesn’t look more than fifteen. She is slight of build, slim and athletic. Clearly both have modified their outfits for their conditions, for in addition to the simple white robes I saw them wearing back on the islands, both are wearing thick dark grey sleeveless cloaks, with hoods.
Mac-Shinter, noticing us, waves and begins to approach, leaning on a huge axe as he walks. The shadow knight is aged around sixty, with a scarred face, and a somewhat bulbous nose. The intensity of his gaze is ferocious, and I can imagine how terrifying it would be to face him in battle, even at his age.
“Dakkir,” I say, quietly but firmly. “Nice to see you again.”
“Humph,” he says, halting. “And I am glad to see you again. Josa said you would come.” His gaze flicks around the surroundings, and I can tell that this is an old soldier’s habit of scoping for threats.
“Are you well?”
He grunts. “That morning star. It looks like a fine weapon. Can I see?”
I look down at my belt, and then unhook my morning start from the magical weapons belt and pass it to him. Mac-Shinter is a shadow knight – the highest rank of experience and skill. He knows a thing or two about smithing, I am sure, but I am not ashamed to subject my work to his scrutiny.
“Where did you get this weapon?”
“I forged it myself back in Vel.”
“It’s too long, girl.” He is still turning my weapon over in his hands, though he pauses to yell an instruction to the apprentices, and they adapt their sparring slightly in response.
“I am sure that many warriors would say so,” I reply, “but I’m used to chain weapons, and I like having a lot of reach.”
“Hmm, as I thought. So why” – he begins to raise his voice – “were you not using it for that in the street outside Maleki’s house?” He is glaring around at me now, apparently genuinely annoyed. I feel a little taken aback, and I sense Lugg coming to my side, concern on his face. But then Mac-Shinter calms himself, and returns the weapon to me.
“Just remember,” he adds, “that it is not just about striking your foe. A weapon has an effect on the enemy’s mind. Just swinging that around will cause them to hesitate. Practice it daily.”
“Dakkir,” says Josa, stepping closer. “The time has come. The magic users have agreed at last. It’s time to crush the Knights of Dawn.” She hands over the staff as she speaks, as well as the sack, from which he pulls out a fantastically ornate bronze breastplate, its color something between bronze and gold, and with gleaming tiny pearl-like gems set around the edge.
I hold up the bracelet. “You know this one already,” I say, looking at Josa. “Though I was kind of wondering if it could be used to help Garner…”
She shakes her head. “There’s no time now, Daria,” she says sternly. “You said it yourself – the enemy is at the gates. The moment has arrived.”
I nod sadly.
“You can trust the Elemental Hand Guild with him,” she says more softly, with a half smile. She then lays down her quarterstaff on the ground, and as I look at it, I see that it has an unusual design. Josa presses in two places, and the wood splits down the middle, revealing a gleaming sword blade inside, almost as long as the staff.
As Josa steps back, Mac-Shinter stoops to lift the weapon out of its wooden container and set it down beside; it glints in the sun, and I see runes engrained along its length. There are two sections of a copper-colored crossguard, each with small black stones inset, but they sit parallel to the blade; as I watch on, Mac-Shinter pushes each one into position with a click. The mechanism is as beautiful as the blade itself.
“This city can be the start of something,” says Mac-Shinter, standing and turning back to us. “I will gather my apprentices.” He looks at Josa. “You should lead the magic users,” he says, “and D’arta will lead the Elemental Hand Guild. But we need to co-ordinate with the guards at the wall.”
“I would suggest Garner, if only he hadn’t been injured,” I murmur.
“Van Turk would be a good choice too,” says Josa, “but he’s stuck outside. Without my powers to help him get here….” She trails off.
My mind flicks to Connor, who I recently saw cutting through Imperial soldiers on the battlefield, leading a small contingent of troops. “Actually, I have someone in mind,” I say, moving away. “A capable warrior. And sympathetic to the cause – at least, I hope so. Let’s go, Lugg!”
With that, I hurry back down the lane and out to the street, ready to set out for Connor’s mansion.
Chapter 45: Amelia Prexis
As I leave the coven’s safe house, I slip into non-immersive mode, and try again to open the door to the gaming pod, but still to no avail.
And so I am in a quandary. I need Connor – but any trust that I had been building with him is rapidly dissipating. Why am I still not free? What has he done, and what is he planning? Either way, I need answers.
I pass the blacksmith’s yard on my way, and see that once again it is closed up. There is a smell of burning fuel, however, which indicates that the blacksmith has been working today, perhaps recently. It’s still afternoon, but it seems that in the time since I called this morning, she has been and gone.
I hurry on, making my way back to the house that I visited in the morning. I knock; Zakira looks upset when she comes to the door.
“I’m so sorry, Daria,” she says. “Lucy. I can’t get into Viperstar Offices. I don’t know where Connor is, and he’s not responding to my calls.”
“He’s not in here?”
She shakes her head. “Do you want to wait?”
I look around the street, not exactly expecting Connor to pop up out of nowhere, but trying to play through the priorities in my mind. On the one hand, I need to get free from whatever is keeping me in the gaming pod. On the other, I have priorities in game, too. There is an army coming, and a limited amount of time to prepare.
“Well, it will have to wait,” I say, all the time processing this new information. I take Zakira by the elbow and begin to move out into the street. “I must find that blacksmith – and I can’t wait until tomorrow morning. You said you knew her family?”
“This way,” she says, closing the door and hurrying off. I follow, with Lugg in my wake.
Soon we are arriving at another town house, with red ivy covering its facade. A tired-looking elderly man, smelling somewhat of vodka or gin, comes to the door, and when we ask for Amelia, he tells us to wait.
Soon we are greeted by a tall woman aged around forty by the looks of her. She is wearing a neat green dress with short sleeves that reveal her muscular arms, and I immediately feel a surge of optimism.
She nods. “What of it?”
“I met your brother in Dubasa. He was impressed by my work in the forge, and asked me to seek you out to see if you are looking for an apprentice.”
“You interrupt my dinner to ask for a job? That’s a bad start. You could have come when the forge was open.”
“I’m sorry,” I reply, taking a step closer. “But it’s urgent. Not the apprenticeship, but the defense of the city. I really need to work on materials that will help repair the ancient siege engines on the city walls. Without it, Katresburg will fall to the Imperials tomorrow. Can you help me?”
She looks in silence from me to Zakira and Lugg, and then back at me. “Are these your family?”
“No. We… look, the city is about to be attacked. Like I say, I’m not here to beg to be admitted to your forge. But if I can just show you what I can do – please.”
“I don’t need another apprentice,” she says, and my heart sinks again. “I already have one.”
I begin to prepare another line of persuasion. But then she adds: “But for shit, I am impressed that a newcomer cares enough about a city to stick her neck out like this. Wait here – I won’t be long.”
The three of us wait in near silence in the street for a good five minutes. I find myself pacing up and down impatiently. I see perhaps twenty city guards running towards the south of the city, and wonder whether an attack has already begun. Surely not? But then I see a halfling walking the other direction without a care in the world. The streets are otherwise quiet. Perhaps people have realized that it’s a good day to stay home.
Finally, Amelia Prexis reemerges. I can still see a glimpse of the green dress, but she is now wearing a leather jerkin not unlike mine, and a pair of tough-looking gauntlets.
“Let’s move then, before I change my mind.”
* * *
By the time we reach the forge, I am sure that the attack is imminent. News travels around the streets; I see more soldiers hastily readying themselves, and locals running and barricading themselves into their houses.
“No, no, no,” I mutter to myself. “It was supposed to be tomorrow. We need more time.”
But I take the time to stop a couple of uniformed soldiers – official city guards. “Are the Imperials attacking?” I ask.
The pair, both men, nod their heads. “Orders from the Princess,” one of them says. “All soldiers and levy to the wall. Hundreds of new Imperials just arrived from Dathmir, and the siege engines are on the move, too.”
I watch them go. My instinct is to follow, but I must be patient; the best thing I can do for the revolution is to continue with my plan to repair the ballista. I just hope I’m going to be fast enough, and that the defenders can hold out until I make it back there.
More patience is required at the forge; as Amelia’s apprentice has finished for the day, she sets me and Lugg to working the bellows. Zakira watches on from near the gate for a moment, and then says, “I’ll go and look for Connor again. I really am sorry – and I am sure Viperstar won’t do anything to harm you.”
“Thank you,” I say, between grunts as I move the heavy arm of the bellows, and then step towards her, letting Lugg take a turn. “But Zakira, they could really use you on the wall. The guards are greatly outnumbered, and my friend is wounded.”
She shrugs. “Sounds a bit like a lost cause. But I’ll think about it.” She smiles at me and adds, “Good luck,” before she turns to leave.
When the coals of the main forge are glowing red, Amelia approaches again. “Will these do?” I have described the rusted pins, and she has brought over two yard-lengths of iron. They are wider than the existing ones, but I think they will work, and I tell her so.
“What about ammunition?” she asks.
Ammunition! How could I be so stupid. Those weren’t crossbow bolts that I saw rusting in the barrel back at the tower, they were ballista bolts. And they are useless.
“I… think we’ll need ammunition too, yes,” I say sheepishly. “Any ideas?”
She frowns. “Am I going to be paid for this?” she asks.
“I’ll happily pay you for the materials,” I say hurriedly. “And compensate you for your time by working here for free, if that would be acceptable.”
She pauses, and then nods. She has a brusque manner, but her eyes are sparkling with a hint of amusement. “Very well, hard worker. A week’s work here in the forge, if we get through the Imperial attack alive.” She hands me the metal pins, and I put them into the coals to heat, stepping back for a moment. “I’m a fair-minded person, and I love my city. So I’ll charge you nothing for the metal.”
“Lugg,” I say to my friend, who has now stepped back from the bellows to allow me to take my turn. “Do you remember that pile of broken spears near the amphitheater? I’d like you to go and fetch them, if you can manage.”
“Lugg will make haste!” he says with a brief nod, then swirls round, his new cloak billowing, and runs out through the gate and away.
“Improvised materials?” says Amelia, raising her eyebrows.
“I’ve looked carefully at the ballista, and I am sure they will fit. I have a good eye, and I know my way around a crossbow mechanism. This is pretty similar.”
“Very well. I’ll trust your judgement.”
“Do you have a saw? I need to cut each spear haft into three parts.”
She nods and moves away, and I work at the metal rods, trimming the length with the chisel when they are glowing a yellow-orange color. I pause, waiting until the glow reduces just a little, and then begin to hammer, shaping and turning the metal.
Each clank of the hammer probably just sounds like noise to other people, but – perhaps because of my crafting skills – the sounds speak to me. They tell me that the metal is moving in the right way, and at the right speed. It’s good quality iron, I can tell that instinctively, and it has strength, but it is important that I move carefully as I shape it into curved rods. Too quickly, and it could crack.
I hammer on, growing in confidence, the feeling of those early days at the forge in Zagra coming back to my hands and arms. The ammunition is easier to construct, as they are just like spear heads, but the gap for the wooden pole to go in must be just the right size.
And then, at last, they are all ready. Two beautifully curved iron sections, like the ends of a crossbow but gigantic, still gently glowing red, with a supply of ammunition as well. Just what I wanted.
I raise the first rod carefully with tongs, for they are still malleable and it is essential that I don’t drop them or knock them out of shape now. I gently lower it into the barrel of water with a hiss, then rest it against the side. Soon, the second one is in the barrel beside it, both having cooled to the normal iron color. If I do say so myself, they look so perfect that they could have come from a factory which was set up to produce them.
Job done, then. And now to the wall.
Chapter 46: Repairs and Revenge
“Lugg – we need to alert the coven that the attack has started,” I call out to my companion. “You remember where it is?”
“Yes, Daria,” he says.
The ballista bolts are in my pack, and we are holding one of the newly forged ballista torsion rods each, and they are damn heavy.
“Pass me that rod, and go there to warn them, then,” I say. “Tell them everything that we heard from the soldiers.”
He nods and hurries off after passing the newly forged rod to me. I don’t see an alternative – I must tell Josa, Mac-Shinter and the others about the impending attack.
And so, with both of the mighty iron rods in my hands, I begin to run through the streets of Katresburg’s merchant quarter as fast as I am able. It’s not long before my arms are really aching, but I push on.
I slow to a halt as I approach the gate that leads from the merchant quarter to the southernmost part of the city, the part that houses the main gate and the amphitheater. Unlike on all the previ
ous occasions when I have passed through the internal walls of the city, there are armed guards on duty, and they are checking each person cautiously before letting them through. I guess times of war demand certain procedures. But as far as getting to the wall with this key component of our secret weapon, it couldn’t be worse timing.
Fidgeting, I look around, trying to figure out how long I will have to wait. People are getting through, certainly, but each one is being interviewed for about a minute. And there are twenty ahead of me.
I look around towards the west – to the wall, and the mountains beyond. The city isn’t huge, and the wall runs in an unbroken circle around it, with the exception of the cliffs in the north. My eyes follow the route. There must be a way onto the wall from inside this quarter, cutting out this delay entirely. Leaving the line of citizens, I begin to run again, this time heading westwards.
It’s just as well that stamina is my best stat. All the same, I can’t go on much longer than this. I stop, pull the copper wire out of my backpack, and take a couple of minutes to use it to lash the two cumbersome metal rods to the pack itself, in much the way that mountaineers strap on ice axes. I use around half of my wire; it’s important to be careful, because if they fall when I am running, they could be irreparably damaged. But I think I do a good job, not least because of an upgrade to the finesse skill, which must cover knot tying as well.
Increase in skill level: Finesse level 20 (Dexterity +2)
Soon I am running up the steps of the city’s unfamiliar western wall. There are a scattering of guards and soldiers here too, of course, but they barely notice me until I am already up on the wall itself. “Supplies for the defenses,” I call out, and I see one nod, and the majority look puzzled.
Most importantly, they don’t try to stop me, and I begin to make my way around the wall in an anticlockwise direction. After a couple of hundred yards, this route takes me up to and past the partner tower in the southwest of the city. Like the one that I was recently in, it is boarded up. Could there be a workable ballista in there too? Possibly. But there could also be more undead nasties in there. I don’t have time to risk exploring it right now.
The Call of the Coven: A LitRPG novel (Shadow Kingdoms Book 2) Page 31