by Simon Archer
“What is it, mister knight?” the kitten-girl half-shouted as she leaned forward, paws screwed up into fists on her lap. I cast her a brief glance, half-amused and half-chastising, and she let out a little sigh. “Oh, sorry. I guess knights have to be patient, too, huh?”
“And a hero,” I added. “I do appreciate your zeal, though, my dear. Now, what I believe makes William a true hero isn’t his strength, his skill at arms, or any of that. What makes him a hero is the strength of his character, his capacity for love and hope.”
Suli’s ears tilted forward curiously as she tilted her head, while Una’s little eyes screwed up in thought. While the kitten-girl looked mostly confused, Una truly seemed to consider my words for a long moment before she asked, “Can you tell us how?”
I nodded and leaned forward to close in our little circle. Children always found the idea of secrets intriguing. Thus, they tended to pay more attention to things they think are secret. So, when I leaned forward conspiratorially, the two girls did likewise with intent stares.
“Let me tell you a tale then,” I began. “When William was but ten years, er, cycles old, we were traveling through South America, a great continent in the Upland, but one where many of the countries… kingdoms to you perhaps… were stricken with poverty and ill-fortune, some natural but much caused by men of poor character.”
Suli suddenly cut in. “Did you guys find one of these blackguards and defeated him to save a village of poor people?”
I chuckled. “No, my dear. Not to say such a thing never happened in our many travels, but that isn’t what happened then. What did happen is that, while I was arranging supplies for an expedition to a recently uncovered ruin in the jungles there, William made himself busy making friends with some of the natives in the small town we were in. Right as we were set to go, he came up to me, looking as if he were bracing himself for some great scolding.”
The two girls edged forward a bit more as their anticipation grew. This time, Suli managed to keep her silence, though I could tell she wanted to ask a million questions.
“So, I looked down at the young lad and quirked my brow.” I mimicked my expression that day, though a bit exaggerated, something that made the girls smile. “‘What’s wrong, lad?’ I asked him. ‘You looked like you’ve swallowed a lemon.’” A smile at the memory of that day crept across my lips. “And he looked up at me, gathered his courage, and said, ‘Sir Thorpe, I know you said to make sure not to lose my money and watch out for pickpockets, but I must not have been paying enough attention.’ He pulled out his wallet then and opened it wide. ‘I’m sorry.’”
I raised a finger and tapped my nose. “But William, while many things, is not a good liar, and he seemed far too happy about his loss, so I leaned towards the boy and asked, quite simply, ‘Was your money stolen, or did you give it away?’ The lad couldn’t put one past me, and that’s when he let out a deep sigh. ‘There was a poor family, Sir Thorpe, and their daughter was starving. They’re good people, I know it, so, well, I had plenty of money, and we won’t need it in the jungle, so…’”
With that, I settled back on the edge of the wall and set my palms on my knees. “So, that is when I knew for certain that Master William was, in every sense of the word, a hero. I later found out that he hadn’t just given the family all his money, but a good half of the supplies in his pack, including several changes of clothes.” I slowly nodded, more to the memory of the moment than to the girls. “So, yes, the most critical part of heroism is the size of your heart. I don’t think either of you will have a problem with that.”
Suli and Una both puffed up a little bit by my words, but as with my story about William, my words were the utter truth. That’s when I realized another important thing about our new mission here. We were not here simply to defeat these dastardly Black Runes or break these cruel Brands.
We were here to nurture the spark of hope and set an example for the heroes Etria would need in the future.
I was about to start a new story when the cry of an elf scout, Xan, I believe his name was, echoed from the village square. I snapped to my feet and walked to the edge of the wall, Suli and Una turning to see as well. Waving to the running man, I called out to him.
“What news, my good man?”
Xan waved back to me. “Sir Thorpe! Good news! I caught sight of Master William and Lady Petra returning!”
My heart swelled as I grinned. I knew the lad would make it back, and no doubt he was successful in his mission. We would have a fighting chance against the vile hordes no doubt massing to attack… and his timing could have been no better because Sullah yelled from the field behind me just a moment later.
“Sir Thorpe!” he bellowed. “Ill tidings, my friend!”
I spun around to see him and Wodag, with a panting ferynx lad between them, one of the village hunters. Sullah’s expression was grim, and Wodag’s was, well, grimmer. It was the scars that made the difference, I think.
“The Weaver’s army is on the move,” the headman of Kaulda called up to me. “We have days, if not hours, to make ready!”
21
To say that the morning that we arrived back at Kaulda touched off a storm of activity would be underselling it by a long shot. Perhaps it would be accurately classified as a hurricane of activity to give it its due. Word of our return had proceeded us, and by the time, our karushes had finished their steady march to the rather impressive wall Reggie and the Kauldans had raised, he was there to meet us along with Sullah.
They didn’t need to say a word for me to know that our time to prepare was almost over.
“As happy as I am to see you and Petra safe, Master William,” Sullah said, his tone even despite the pleading in his eyes, “I hope you bring us good tidings.”
“Indeed,” Reggie added as he settled his right hand on the handle of his revolver and the left on the hilt of a shaped bronzewood saber, “for your return seems to have served as a harbinger of our foe’s arrival.”
Before I could answer, Silver clambered up my back and poked his head over my shoulder to let out a little screech. I guess it was his way of saying ‘Mission accomplished!’
“We adopted a rock wyrm,” I translated for the little guy. “And if we can pull off the plan I have in mind using these bags of wyrm-fire,” I patted one of the bulging sacks tied to my karush’s side, “we can hold the Weaver’s army off long enough for the Wyrmtooth tribe to come in like the meanest cavalry we could ask for.”
A little less impressive was the pouch of Silver’s own droppings, proto-wyrm-fire so to speak, that hung at my side. Still, as strange it sounded to say, I was proud of our little wyrm because he was a super-duper pooper. When he grew up just a little, he alone could supply all the wyrm-fire a little village might need.
Beside me, Petra smiled confidentially and nodded. “I would say that means we don’t just have good tidings. We have the best possible tidings we could have.”
“Then, perhaps, my friends, Kaulda might survive the flames that are coming.” Sullah took in a deep breath as he turned towards the open village gates, then gestured for us to follow. “Come! We have much to do!”
As we made our way through Kaulda towards the west side, I recounted our adventures in the Whitesword Range with Petra filling in details here in there. Even Silver added a few cries, chirps, and hisses to punctuate the story. Our little group only seemed to grow as we walked, more villagers coming along in our wake to hear the tale. By the time we got to where the rest of the village was at work drilling in the combat skills Reggie had taught them, well, I think we had everyone else in Kaulda listening in.
When we concluded the tale, a mixture of cheers, gasps, and murmurs rippled through the crowd. I caught Wodag’s eye, and the old orc flashed me a thankful smile. As for the others, the reality of the situation, both the knowledge we had a fighting chance and the realization that the battle they were preparing for was almost at hand, sunk in slowly, and that could either turn into panic or hope. Be
fore it could turn either way, I raised my hands and called for the people’s attention.
“Okay, folks!” I said loudly as all eyes focused on me. “I don’t think I need to tell anyone about the nature of our situation. We have at least a hundred ettercaps, all bandits and killers, coming from the west, a day away at most, led by a dragon-girl who can breathe fire.” I gestured broadly around at the villagers. “And all it looks like we have is forty or so farmers with only a few days of training, a pile of wooden weapons, and a wall to hide behind.”
I could already see some people about to interrupt, so I raised a hand for their patience. My other hand settled on Libritas’s hilt, her form taking on a golden glow.
“But that’s not it, people of Kaulda,” I continued as I pointed toward the distant peaks to the north. “Within a day Chieftain Aroch Steeltusk and the rest of the Wyrmtooth clan will be here to fight by our side.” I thumbed back at our karushes with their burden of wyrm-fire. “We’ve got enough of the orcs’ secret weapon to fight back with, and you’ve got a kick-ass dryad, the best military mind I know, the Brand of Freedom, and yours truly backing you up.”
As I folded my arms over my chest, I flashed a confident smile, more confident than how I felt, but one of the most important parts of leadership was not letting that worry show. “So, are you all ready to fight for your freedom? To throw off the Weaver’s foot from your chest and to tear the collar away from your throat?”
A moment of dead silence fell over the crowd for just long enough to wonder if I had given a stirring speech or sounded like a complete idiot, but then, somewhere in the gathered people, a fierce cry sprang up. That was all that was needed, a final spark to ignite the flames, and within moments, the entirety of Kaulda was cheering, roaring, crying out for freedom.
I let out the breath I didn’t know I had been holding and nodded. Kaulda was ready to fight, we had done everything we could to get ready, and now, all it came down to was my plan to see these people through to the light at the end of the tunnel. I only hoped that it was daylight and not an oncoming train I was leading them towards.
“The strategy I see in your mind is sound, William,” Lib said firmly in my mind. “Your arm is strong, and your heart is willing. You have the power to lead these people to freedom, trust me.”
I let the ancient artifact’s words sink in for a moment before nodding. “Right, thanks, Lib.”
That little pep talk was enough to refocus me, and as the cheers died down around me, I glanced over at Petra, who was smiling eagerly at me, and Reggie, his arms folded behind his back and ready for what came next. With them all at my side, there was nothing to worry about.
“Now, we need to work hard over the next few hours to get things ready, so everyone who’s fighting, gather around,” I ordered in a calm, clear, confident tone, “while you non-combatants, get back behind the wall and get ready for the worst.”
As our little militia gathered up, I began to recount the plan to them. At first, I got more than a few confused and quizzical looks, but as I would through to the end, understanding dawned across everyone’s faces. By the end of it all, Reggie was as close to bouncing on his toes as a stiff British gentleman would allow himself, eager to get things rolling, and Sullah was nodding slowly as he grinned.
“Come, warriors of Kaulda!” the headman bellowed out at the end. “Fetch your shovels and hoes, and let us get to work!” He glanced over at Wodag. “Please, friend, come with me. Show me how to prepare the wyrm-fire.”
The old orc grunted as he clapped the ferynx on the shoulder. “Yes, let us hurry.”
What followed was the hardest six-hour push I’ve ever been a part of. We were asking a lot of the villagers to do in a short time, but the quicker we could prepare the battlefield, the more time they could rest before the actual battle was joined. Hell, if we were lucky, they might not even need to risk themselves for long in battle. They’d simply be mopping up the mess.
The real heavy lifting in this battle was down to me, Petra, and Libritas. We had a dragon-girl to free while Reggie would be leading the rest of the battle. In the end, at the absolute worst, he could simply lay down fire with his revolver until we were out of bullets. We’d really have to figure out a way to resupply those. Maybe the wyrm-fire could be turned into a suitable gunpowder replacement.
After all the work and some fitful sleep, I found myself sitting at the edge of our little battlefield, the barest glimmer of dawn cresting the horizon as I sipped at a cup of lukewarm zym. It really was an Etrian analog of coffee, made by steeping boiling water through ground zym… which was actually a kind of beetle that was attracted to the cholla fields. I got over that little revelation fast, though, because it was even more stimulating than Earth coffee, and with what was dawning today, I needed the boost.
The reason I was up, that we were all up, was the hurried report of our forward scout. The Weaver’s army was at hand, and as we expected, they were advancing in a straight line for Kaulda… which meant they had to get through us first.
Part one of my plan had been simple: We weren’t going to fight at Kaulda.
If the dragon-girl made it to the village, the fight was already lost. If her dragon-fire were as nasty as everyone said, she’d burn the village to ash before we could do shit to stop her. But here? In the Sola plains? There was only grass to burn… and us, but I wasn’t going to think about that.
In fact, I was planning on her setting a few blazes.
To both sides of me, set up in a staggered formation Reggie devised to provide the best tactical positioning, were a series of low wooden barriers Petra had grown up. Behind them were the farmers-turned-warriors, weary but ready for Sir Thorpe’s commands. Close to me, at one of the center barricades, Sullah Sona and Wodag were positioned, the headman with a bow that looked way too big for mere hunting and the orc with a small brazier with burning coals in it.
As flickers of fire and smoke, the telltale sign of the Weaver’s army, crested the far hill, Petra came up beside me, her hands loose at her sides as her vines writhed around her wrists. Gone was the flowing dress of leaves, and back was the armor of bark, wood, and vines. She’d even improved on it, adding strategically placed rows of thorns to it.
“It is almost time, my love,” she said simply. Though I could tell she was as anxious as I was, the dryad’s jaw was set and her gaze level. “I left Silver back at Kaulda with Suli and Una. I am sure they will take good care of him.”
I simply nodded, then knocked back the rest of the zym. It was like a bitter freight train slamming into the back of my head, knocking any last bits of fogginess from my mind. As I tossed the mug aside, I clambered to my feet and stretched out my back.
“Yep,” I said softly, then smiled. “Maybe we’ll get lucky, and the Weaver will show his bug eyes for this.”
“The Black Runes are cowards,” Petra practically hissed. “No doubt he is waiting back in his den, too afraid of us to face us on the open field of battle.”
I nodded as I drew Libritas from her sheath. “Probably, but that’ll just make it harder on him in the long run.”
As I spoke, the ragtag army of spider-men rose to the head of the hill. Their black carapaces shone in the morning light of the twin suns, and while I could see a few glints of metal among them, most of the ettercaps seemed garbed in the same irregular leathers and gear as the raiders that attacked Kaulda days ago. A good half of them bore black iron rods topped with spiked cages, and those cages were filled with burning balls of, well, something.
Gone were the catchpoles, nets, and other slaver’s tools. There was nothing but blades, maces, claws, and fire. The Weaver was done taking prisoners, this army only existed to wipe Kaulda and its people off the face of Etria.
Across our defensive line, the brave men and women shook off the last of their nerves, readied bronzewood spears and clubs, and held their ground. Wodag took one of the many arrows Sullah had thrust into the ground in between then both and prepared to light th
e tip of it. Behind me, I caught a glance of Reggie walking the lines, shouting out last-minute orders with that uniquely noble authority he carried with him.
“There she is,” Libritas whispered into my ear, and I turned to catch my first real look at the woman everyone in Kaulda feared.
At this distance, a couple of hundred yards at least, it was hard to judge how tall the dragon-scaled figure was, but she was clearly the tallest person on the field, maybe as tall as I was, taller if you counted the two horns that jutted from her forehead. An unruly mane of flame red hair swept between those horns and past her broad shoulders, and I swore I could see the glint of her golden eyes even this far out.
As far as the rest of her, from this range, I could make out her surprisingly human curves and her fit, powerful form. She would make the most dedicated CrossFit athlete proud, chiseled muscle still making way for soft femininity. Most of her front torso, breasts, belly, neck, and face seemed to be tanned human skin, but it worked into red scales near her sides and across her powerful limbs. By the forearms and shins, her limbs were more dragon than human, with spikes jutting from her elbows and kneecaps. Her hands and feet ended into talons that would make a rock wyrm jealous, and a full dragon tail swept behind her as she strode forward at the head of the army.
She bore no weapons, not that she needed any, and the only armor she wore, if you could call it that at all, was a bikini that seemed to be made of her own shed scales and spider silk. The only thing that wasn’t clear to me was where exactly her brand was, but I was sure it would see it when we got closer.
There was a moment where the Weaver’s army halted in apparent surprise when they saw us here instead of cowering in the village proper. It passed the moment the dragon-girl looked down the cluster of ettercaps behind her, then gestured them forward. She still kept at the head of their formation the whole way.
I only hoped that the work Petra put into restoring the grass over the parts of the field we dug up the night before would keep them from suspecting anything.