by Sandell Wall
Remus was surprised to see him stand and pace as he talked. The growing tension evident in Holmgrim’s body language was out of character for the normally unflappable smith.
“Stay away from these warriors,” Holmgrim said. “They are not soldiers governed by orders and regulations like the Legion. They consider themselves above the law, and will be far away from it in a border province. Don’t expect them to treat you with respect or dignity. In fact, if you give them half the chance, they will probably try to conscript you as a servant.” He turned to look directly at Remus. “Remus, your attitude will put a target on your back. If you give them even the slightest excuse, they will make sport of you. They will not be gentle.”
Remus tried to say something, but Holmgrim stopped him with a raised hand. “Stop. Listen to me for once, boy. I’m trying to look out for you.”
He was not about to be deterred. Remus hated being shushed. But before he could speak, the front door of the smithy opened and in walked Sentras.
Holmgrim had been facing the door when it opened, and his eyes widened in surprise at Sentras’s entrance. “Sentras, you old dog! What are you doing up at this hour?” Holmgrim wiped the crumbs from his hands and moved to embrace Sentras.
They clasped their right arms together, gripping each other's forearm in the universal greeting of brothers in arms. “Old dog I may be,” Sentras said, “but at least I’m not as ugly as you! You’re still one terrifying whoreson.”
Holmgrim grinned. “You always were jealous of my exotic good looks.”
Sentras guffawed and then sat down at the table. He greeted Remus and Axid with a smile and a wink. “Morning, boys. My condolences for having to spend your days locked in a hot, dark room with a barbarian heathen.”
Axid scowled, not sure what to make of this, but despite his growing anxiety Remus grinned from ear-to-ear. It was not often they got to hear someone poke fun at Holmgrim!
Holmgrim rummaged through the coldbox, speaking to Sentras over his shoulder, “We just finished eating, but I still have plenty of food in here.”
Sentras held up his hand to stop Holmgrim’s search. “There is no need, my friend, I have already eaten and have little time. I merely stopped by to make sure you had received the scroll I dropped off yesterday. Typically, I would trust you to take care of it, but this matter is sensitive enough that I need to personally confirm you have received and accepted the commission.”
Remus froze. Panic tried to sink its claws into him and his vision narrowed to a tunnel.
Sentras dropped off that scroll.
Remus had always been an extremely quick thinker. His coolness under pressure and ability to make snap decisions had allowed him to escape many a sticky situation. But no matter how he mentally extrapolated the chain of events that would unfold in the immediate future, he could see no way out. More than that, because he had not anticipated them, he felt as if circumstances were completely beyond his control. It was not a feeling he liked.
Remus gritted his teeth, determined not to lose his cool. There was always a way out if he kept his head.
Ignorant of Remus’s reaction to the mention of the scroll, Holmgrim said, “Scroll? What scroll? I’ve seen nothing of the sort.” He looked at Axid questioningly, his great bushy eyebrows coming together. “Was a scroll dropped off yesterday?”
Axid squirmed, obviously in great distress. Sentras sobered up quickly, realizing something was wrong. Axid blurted, “I’m sorry, master. I didn't know what it was!”
Holmgrim looked puzzled, which was a comical expression on his hard face. “Hold up now. What are you apologizing for? Was a scroll delivered, or was it not?”
Axid bowed his head and said, “Yes, master.”
The big smith waited, but Axid did not continue. Starting to get annoyed, Holmgrim said, “Well? Where is it? Why are you acting like I just caught you tumbling in the hay with a farm lass?”
At the mention of a farm girl Axid blushed a deep red. The three of them watched Axid, waiting for him to speak. The two men were waiting expectantly, but Remus was terrified of what Axid would say.
Axid took a deep breath, looked up at Holmgrim, and then spoke in a rush of words that they had to concentrate closely on to follow, “A scroll was dropped off yesterday in the usual spot. I thought it was work for me so I took it back to my bench. I had nothing that needed doing yesterday afternoon, so I opened it right before you left.” He quickly slid his eyes to Remus and then back to Holmgrim. “I’m sorry, master. I looked at the scroll. I could not understand any of it, and I closed it once I realized what it must be.”
He hung his head in shame. “But I did look at it.”
Remus let out the breath he did not realize he had been holding.
He didn't mention me!
For an instant his heart swelled with affection for the young rune carver.
He might be annoying and slow, but he’s a loyal friend.
Holmgrim still looked confused, but Sentras’s face had softened. Sentras said, “Here, boy, there is no need to be so scared. You’re a rune carver, no?”
Axid nodded in affirmation.
“Well then, there was no real harm done. Hopefully, this will teach you to examine the seal on the scroll to make sure you have the authority to open it.” Sentras smiled. He turned to look at Holmgrim and tried to speak, “Now—”
Before Sentras could get another word out, Holmgrim cut him off. “No. Stop. I begin to understand. Before I look at this scroll, I want to hear its story—from you.” He crossed his arms and spread his feet wide, daring Sentras to say no.
Sentras looked hurt and then resigned. He sighed. “Very well. If I must.”
I have to get that scroll!
Remus said, “Master, may I go relieve myself? I’ve not had a chance yet this morning.”
Holmgrim nodded his head to say yes, but Sentras said, “No, the boy should stay. He’s in my class this week, and this is the sort of thing he needs to learn and understand. I can think of no better way to teach than through a real life example.”
Remus’s heart sank, and the feeling of fate conspiring against him grew stronger.
The grizzled veteran closed his one eye and breathed deep, like he was steeling himself for an unpleasant task. He opened his eye and spoke with a tone of authority, "You know the Legion has been called, and that at the very least a praetor and his warriors will accompany them. Two houses volunteered for the assignment. Lome and Cinder. Sir Lorent leads the Lomish warriors, and Sir Trent heads up Cinder."
At this revelation, Holmgrim's already dour face clenched into a rictus that would have sent a lesser man running. "Lorent comes. And you come to me knowing this."
Sentras met Holmgrim's ire with a growing anger of his own. "Be reasonable, my friend. You know I have no choice in this matter. Not all of us can run away to hide in a border province."
Holmgrim turned and walked a few paces away, his powerful hands clenching into fists and then releasing in barely contained fury.
"Do your charges even know about any of this?" Sentras said to Holmgrim's back.
Holmgrim did not respond, but it was clear from the confused look on Remus's face, and the terrified look on Axid's that they had no idea what was going on.
While Holmgrim mastered his anger, Sentras turned to the young men. "Your master was one of the greatest smiths the Legion has ever seen. His intuitive knowledge of the craft, combined with his impossible strength, endurance, and ingenuity had him well on the path of being able to forge weapons and armor of great power for the guilds and great houses. His talent is rare, perhaps only one smith in a generation can forge what will become the artifacts the houses covet."
Sentras grimaced. "But Holmgrim is an outsider. He was captured as a young man, spared slavery only because he acted with great valor and honor in battle." He looked in Holmgrim's direction, but his one eye was looking into the past. "He saved my life in the Brennick campaign. The last great imperial incursion into the bar
barian wilderness to the east. I was injured and separated from my unit. He came out of the wilderness, fought off my pursuers, and carried me back to the Legion camp."
Sentras shook his head, returning both his gaze and his thoughts to the present. "His reasons for forsaking his kinsmen are his own. Perhaps he will tell you someday. But after he was spared, his talent as a smith became obvious, and the Legion gladly employed him for the next fifteen years."
Holmgrim turned to watch Sentras as he spoke.
“When Holmgrim was to be released from his service to the Legion, there were noble houses that felt his talent would be wasted were he granted freedom. Those same noble houses were of the opinion that he should have been a slave from the time he was captured. The most vocal of these houses was Lome, Sir Lorent in particular. He was present when Holmgrim was captured and never agreed to the breach of regulations that allowed Holmgrim to avoid slavery. The commander of the Brennick campaign completely overruled Lorent’s objections and allowed Holmgrim to join the Legion.”
Holmgrim had mastered his anger. The enigmatic smith picked up the story, speaking when Sentras stopped. “Join the Legion I did. And at the end of my career the same man that allowed me to join had become the Legion Commander. General Polius. Lorent of Lome appealed to the emperor, hoping to force me to serve the house of Lome just as I had served the Legion. He argued that I should have been a slave in the first place, but he was willing to overlook that if I would accept life as an indentured servant of Lome.
“I’ll never forget what happened next. The emperor was not pleased that Lorent had tried to go around General Polius by appealing to the throne directly. His majesty told Lorent that as far as he knew, I had served the Legion faithfully and he would leave my fate in Polius’s hands.” Holmgrim grinned and shook his head in amused disbelief.
He nodded at Sentras. “I was called before both General Polius and Lorent to hear what my fate would be. Sentras came with me as a witness to my character and service. After listening to Sentras endorse me, Lorent tried to speak. General Polius did not allow him to say a single word. The General reprimanded Lorent severely for dishonoring both the Legion and the general personally, not only for calling my standing as a member of the Legion into doubt, but for also trying to circumvent the chain of command by going directly to the emperor. General Polius then said that the emperor had given him the authority to grant whatever request I had, within reason.”
He paused and looked around the smithy, and at each of his young apprentices. “I requested the freedom and funds to open my own smithy in Delgrath. As far away from the scheming of the empire, and as close to my home in the wilds, as I could get. I have not forged one weapon since leaving the Legion. And I have turned down enough commissions from the nobility that they have stopped trying.” He turned to glare at Sentras. “So tell me, old friend, what’s changed?”
Remus could sense that Sentras had been anticipating this question, and the veteran’s answer was ready. “I’m afraid the reach and power of the Legion, and even the emperor, is not what it once was. General Polius is retired. House Lome is now a minor house in name only. They have been forging alliances and consolidating their power for the past few years and are poised to become one of the next great houses. The only thing they lack is a rune artifact to justify their claim of legitimacy. The plans for the sword in the scroll would be that artifact. The great houses control all of the master smiths. All of them but you. So Sir Lorent travels to Delgrath to try and leverage you into making the weapon for them. And he is bringing the heir of Lome with him.”
“And they sent you as their agent. Why?”
“Because they had hoped I could make you see reason. I’m sorry Holmgrim, they don’t intend to take no for an answer. Whatever your reasons for coming out here to the middle of nowhere, and for refusing commissions, I’m sure they are valid in your own mind. But you are a citizen of the empire. And as a citizen with exceptional talents, if you wish to retain the benefits of citizenship, things will sometimes be asked of you. Even if you’re not in the Legion.” Sentras shook his head. “You realize this could have been avoided if you had allied yourself with a great house instead of setting up shop in the most pitiful town in the empire.”
Holmgrim grunted. “You’ve become a guild man then.”
“I’ve always been my own man. But I’m also a pragmatic man.”
“Very well. I would not want you to run afoul of your new masters. Axid, fetch the scroll.”
Axid jumped at Holmgrim’s command and went to the locked cabinet where the rune scrolls were stored. The scrolls were stacked inside like firewood. Axid rummaged through them for a long while, and then turned back to the two waiting men, his face pale. “It-it’s not here.”
“What do you mean it’s not there?” Holmgrim roared. “If it’s not there, then where is it?”
Axid quailed, unable to speak in the face of his master’s wrath.
Sentras said, “I was lenient with you before, boy, but if you have lost the scroll in addition to breaking its seal and looking at it without the appropriate authority, I’ll see to it that you stay an apprentice for the rest of your life.”
While Axid stood there trembling, waiting for the chastisement that was sure to come, he made eye contact with Remus. Such was the confusion, fear, and hurt in Axid’s eyes that Remus wanted to look away. Instead, he took a deep breath and stepped forward. “I took the
scroll.”
Chapter 4
AVENTINE’S BREATH CAME IN ragged gasps. Inside her armor the sweat poured off of her skin. She saw the blur of a massive sword as it ripped through the air, angling towards her midsection. Reacting as fast as she could think, she pushed at the runestone held in her left hand. Her world turned emerald green. All she could see was the symbol of the rune she was focused on. She felt her armor knit itself together. Rooted to the ground, her armor deflected the blow that should have cut her in half. She barely felt it. After shrugging off the attack, she released her focus on the runestone and lashed out with the short sword in her right hand, springing forward in her suddenly light and flexible armor. Her aim was true, and she gouged another deep scratch in the black breastplate that was her target.
“Very good!”
Aventine stopped and straightened, breathing hard.
Brax stood before her, a fresh sheen of sweat on his face. He eyed the new scratch in his armor. “Well, at least I know it still works.” He grinned at Aventine. “That was well struck. You will master the technique quickly at this rate.”
“Is this truly necessary?”
He frowned. “I’ll admit, this sort of training is a little unorthodox, but this is how I was trained, and I’ve come to see the value in it. You’ll learn far more about what the runes are capable of, and how to use them, than anyone who doesn’t train this way. And it’s something most opponents will never expect.”
She raised the visor on her helmet to let some air in. “There was no mention in training of ever fighting alone, especially using runestones.”
“There is training, and there is reality. My job as your mentor is to prepare you as best I can. Of course, the ideal situation is to always be fighting with a unit.” He shrugged, acknowledging the inevitable. “You will discover that circumstances are never ideal.”
“Breaking connection with the runestone so abruptly makes me a little nauseous.” Aventine put her hands on her knees and tried to control the queasiness she felt.
“That sensation will ease in time. It can also be disconcerting to lose rune powers so quickly. The mind has a hard time keeping up with remembering when your armor will shrug off any blow, and when it will crumple. You should have seen me trying to learn how to use my armor on my own. When I would break connection and move at normal speed again, I would lose the contents of my stomach.”
“So our armor has many different runes woven into it?”
“Yes. The runestone you were given at the ceremony is primarily used to
power other Guard’s equipment. Each new member is given a stone with the rune they showed the most aptitude for in training. In a large engagement, the younger, newer members, like yourself, will power the runes of the veteran Guard who will do the fighting.”
Brax turned to rest his enormous sword against a tree before continuing. “We all have our specialty, none of the Guard has identical equipment, but when enough are gathered we can almost always find the specific runes needed. In your case, the runestone you carry will make your armor invulnerable and anchor you to the ground so that you can withstand even the mightiest of blows. It can be very challenging to use it on your own, as is my armor, which grants me unbelievable speed. But if you were fighting in a vanguard, you would have others behind you powering the runes your armor requires. Not only would you be invulnerable and impossible to deter, they would be powering runes to give you strength, stamina, and dexterity. All of which are woven into your armor.” He gave her a serious look. “You would be formidable with your armor fully powered. Your combat prowess is years ahead of any other recruit I’ve ever encountered.”
Aventine smiled. “I have my father to thank for that. I was training to be a warrior for years before entering the Guard.”
“Morn is serious about legacy training?”
“Not Morn, just my father. My mother died when I was very young, and my father decided the best way to raise me was to train me as a warrior.”
“Your mother was in the Rune Guard.”
“Yes. Captain Luccia. She died testing a newly discovered runestone.”
“It’s a tragedy when it happens, but it’s always a risk. We don’t know what a runestone does until we actually try to use it. You follow in her footsteps without fear. That’s to be commended.”
“I never said I’m not afraid. But my mother did not let fear hold her back. It’s the least I can do to face the same challenges that she faced.”