Haggart's Dawn

by Martyn J. Pass

  He browsed the spines and found the small, dusty and leather-bound book dated around the time that he'd received his first vision. He thumbed through the pages, smiling as he saw the flicker of a stray memory here and there or the sketch of a forgotten enemy hastily drawn. Then he found the entry he was looking for and read.

  I received my first vision today. I was sitting in my tent when it came. Sturgis warned me what to expect but it was far worse than I could have imagined. I was paralysed where I lay, unable to move even my eyes to the left or the right. The air grew cold like a great frost had come and I could do nothing while I felt my blood freeze in my veins. Then he came. He was tall and faceless and wore a long robe that dripped with what could only have been blood - the redness of it amazes me still. He spoke softly to me the following words: “They will come at night. Six will ride out to meet you. Six lives must end this night. Look for the coming of the spring.”

  They meant little to me at the time and when the vision ended I found I could move once more. But when I looked down I saw that my hand had been burned with a rune I have never seen before. I have sketched it in these notes in case it means something to me later but I remember Sturgis warning me that it will not leave until the vision is fulfilled.

  Haggart leafed through the crinkling pages, passing skirmish notes and diagrams of enemy horse movements. The memories refreshed themselves - it'd been 1290, the year his own people had invaded from the frozen north. He read onwards, finding the entry he was looking for further on.

  The vision was fulfilled today and the rune has now gone. Six riders there were - messengers to report our movements to the enemy. We came upon them whilst patrolling outside the camp during the night. We pursued them immediately and chased them down to the Red Rock pass where they turned and engaged us - six of us to six of them. We slew five before they were able to strike down old man Carter. The sixth made his escape through the gorge, much to our dismay. The coming of spring was their downfall - they had trampled the beautiful purple flower that grows on top of the pass and Carter had seen the spore, instantly recognising the presence of the spies. Six lives were lost that night, as it had been foretold. I hope it is a long time before I am burdened again with another of these visions.

  Haggart shook his head at his younger self and returned the book to the shelf.

  *

  It was during breakfast the following day that the rider came. His horse was sweating and near death when he stopped, reluctantly, outside the Sundered Helm and Haggart watched him coming. He and the Captain were drinking coffee outside in the warm rising sun when he'd appeared as a speck on the horizon, coming over the lush green hills with a pace that anyone could see was desperate and urgent.

  He jumped down from his mount as it shook the white foam from its mouth and the Captain called for Harry to handle the beast before it died.

  “Quickly, I need a fresh horse,” commanded the man to the Captain, his face flushed and frantic, waving his hands at him who, with his jaw tightening in rage, looked up at the rider and smirked. “Well? Hop to it, old man.”

  The Captain was about to stand but Haggart, eager to find out why the rider was in such a hurry, held him back.

  “I would be careful how you speak to my friend here, sir,” he said. The man inflated his chest and planted his knuckles on his hips. It would have been comical if it hadn't been for the fact that the Captain had killed people for less.

  “Why is that?” he replied.

  “Well, you may wear a cloak bearing the mark of the Council but this man still holds his rank as Captain. It would be wise not to upset him and find yourself on a disciplinary.”

  The man lost some of the flushed colour from his cheeks and found he could only nod - words had failed him all together.

  “Coffee?” Haggart offered.

  “Er... yes, please. I'm sorry. I didn't realise.”

  “Have a seat, boy. You can show me some remorse by explaining what has driven you to nearly killing your horse,” said the Captain, pushing a seat out for him to sit on. The man sat and accepted a cup from Harry who had just returned to tell him that his horse would recover, but it would be several days before he could ride it away.

  “Are there no fresh mounts here?” he asked.

  “This is a small village in the middle of nowhere and we don't often get Council couriers in need of horses this far out. You can try the next village along, Rottersil, or ask Hector in the valley for a loan,” said the Captain.

  “I will need something, I must be away by first light,” said the Courier. “Do you have lodgings?”

  “Aye. We can put you up for the night,” said Haggart. “What brings you this way?” said Haggart.

  “I'm supposed to deliver a package to the Captain of the Mermack that sets sail in the next few days,” the Courier said.

  “You're in luck then. The ship is still in the port and you are only a day's ride from it.” The Courier looked visibly relieved and he relaxed into his seat a little bit more, taking out a white handkerchief from his coat pocket and dabbing his hot brow.

  “I was afraid I'd missed it,” he said.

  “Where have you come from? Surely not the City?” asked the Captain.

  “The very same over a month ago. It's not been an easy ride and the roads are not as safe as they used to be – even the Royal road. We've been getting odd reports from travelling merchants claiming that the Bandits are hitting them harder as the winter comes. Any that the Council have managed to arrest all say the same thing – that something is coming, though they won't say what they think it is.”

  “Are they getting news the Council isn't?” asked Haggart.

  “No, we think they're putting their faith in their Seers,” answered the Courier. “Visions. Signs. All none-sense if you ask me but it's been enough to prompt some clans to up sticks and head north into the forests.”

  “What are these 'seers' seeing?”

  “We don't know. Nor do I care to listen to the ramblings of mad men. Since the Council banned the open worship of gods and spirits we're grateful not to have to indulge this kind of silliness any more.”

  The Captain stole a sideways glance at Haggart. “Any news from the City? We haven't had much since last year.”

  The Courier seemed glad of a change of subject and moved quickly to tell them about the recent laws passed by the Council earlier the previous year. Most of them seemed concerned with the rising number of people taking to ships and leaving the land in search of riches and taking their wealth with them.

  “Foolish if you ask me. I hear there are cannibals to the east, men who dine on human flesh and grow to many feet in height,” said the Courier rather excitedly. “Not that I would want to meet any of them. I'm pretty glad we're surrounded by water. At least a boat full of giants would be seen in time.”

  “Now who's indulging silliness?” said the Captain. “Giants my eye.”

  The Courier laughed and blew into his cup. “I fair admit I like listening to the sailors telling their tales. You should hear the ones that come from the island of Slow - they'd make your skin crawl.”

  “How's Master Amos?” asked Haggart.

  “Who?”

  “Master Amos, the military advisor. He's served the council for years and was once a dear friend to us.”

  The courier looked a little lost. “Master Veddick is the military advisor now. Amos was arrested and tried years ago.”

  “What for?” Haggart felt his stomach knot.

  “He was a known traitor. He was selling Council secrets to the Gorms across the sea. Didn't you hear? It was made known across the country. His whole family, his children, his wife, all of them, in on the act. They were all...” The Courier fell silent.

  “All what?” said the Captain.

  “Executed. Publicly. Disem...” But the courier couldn't finish. “I'm sorry, I just assumed you would have heard. Did you serve with him?”

  “I suppose so,” said Haggart. “His family
too, you say?”

  “Yes. The evidence was pretty overwhelming. They say they found the documents in his home, in a panel under the floor boards and it was all there. Troop movements, key political figures, a stash of gold - no doubt payment for the information.”

  “I see,” said the Captain. They were silent for a while, Haggart barely able to contain his sorrow. The Courier, sensing the atmosphere, stood to leave.

  “Perhaps I could be shown to my room?” he asked.

  Haggart nodded but seemed unable to speak. The Captain called a barmaid through the open window who came out and led the Courier away. Once they were sure he was gone, the Captain said: “Amos. A traitor?”

  “What about his family? He had three small children. What a fate.” said Haggart.

  “There is something wrong with this tale,” the Captain began. “Something doesn't fit. That man was as honest as they come. I don't believe he would aid the very enemy he fought for so many years.”

  “What are you suggesting? He was betrayed?”

  “That is the only answer I can accept.”

  “But why?”

  “I don't know,” he said. “But if what the courier is saying is true, then things are going in a direction I don't like. Bandit seers seeing things that I can bet are just what you saw yourself. That machine in Hector's basement. Amos. I don't like it. I don't like it at all.”

  “I'm getting that feeling again, the one we had in the early days. Right before we went to put down those 'rebels' – remember?”

  “Right before it turned out to be the scouting party for a Gorm warband?”

  “The very same.”

  *

  That evening Haggart was in the parlour with the door closed. Talbert, Shankworth, John and the Captain were sat round the fire. They were alone and he warned Harry to keep it that way while the Captain explained what he'd seen and heard over the last few days.

  “So you're up to date,” said the Captain, wetting his dry throat with mead. “Thoughts?”

  Talbert spoke first, “Sounds like trouble, no doubt.”

  “The Mermack leaves on the morning tide,” said Shankworth. “I'm going with it. I'll see where that package ends up.”

  “It might be nothing to do with all this,” said the Captain. “But still, it may be worth seeing where it ends up. Where is she sailing?”

  “South from the port, doing a run along the coast and then setting out for the Moon Isles before returning via Slow. It will be gone for half the year. I will send you word along the way.”

  “What do you want me to do, Captain?” asked Talbert.

  “For now, nothing. We don't want people asking too many questions. Tomorrow I want you to go with the Courier and escort him to the port. Find out what you can but don't arouse his suspicion. Come back with him and hopefully his horse will be fit enough to take him back to the City.”

  “Then what?” asked Haggart.

  “We need to find out why Hector has that bloody machine under the mill. Ben and I will go to the valley to see what's going on. I want you to keep this place running, keep an eye on Harry until we get back.”

  “You mean Lorrie?” said Talbert. Haggart nodded.

  “She's not to leave here, nor get herself into any trouble either,” said Haggart.

  “That might be quite hard to do – we are talking about Lorrie you know.”

  “We'll leave tomorrow night when you get back,” said the Captain. “Look, let's not get too exited about all this. It might be nothing, but given the vision Haggart had and the behaviour of our Courier friend, I think it's going to be safer to be cautious for now.”

  “I told you we'd get some action,” said Talbert, almost jumping out of his chair. “I told you!”

  The Captain shook his head. “You may see more than you bargained for. For now, just do as you're told – okay?”

  “Got it, Cap.”

  The following day, Haggart watched them leave for the port with the weather in their favour - a fine morning with a gentle breeze coming down off the Copper Mountain to the north-west and an early rising sun that warmed his bones. He stood outside the 'Helm with a mug of freshly brewed coffee in his hand and every so often he would breath in the pungent scent as the horses rode away, taking their time and cantering along steadily until they disappeared over the horizon. The Captain came around the corner from working in the fields and thrust an axe in his other hand, indicating that he should follow him.

  “Better to get warmed up again, eh?” he said and set off.

  “There was a time when this just came naturally to us,” he replied. “When we didn't have to prepare to charge the enemy or ride a horse or limber up.”

  “Those days are long gone, mate,” he laughed. For an hour or two they felled three of the enormous trees that grew like towering sentinels at the bottom of their land and turned them into firewood. Half way through, Lorrie came over and helped load the split logs onto a hand cart – her skirt exchanged for leather riding trousers and boots. Once they were done, the afternoon sun was high above their heads and Harry sent out a maid with a tray of cold beers. To his surprise, Lorrie emptied her mug in one long draught.

  “That's a bad habit,” said the Captain, belching loudly. “I don't know who you get that from.”

  She grinned and set off back towards the pub pushing the hand cart ahead of her. Haggart wiped his brow with the sleeve of his shirt and sat on a stump.

  “It's been too long,” he said, still clawing breath into his heaving chest.

  “Aye. I was worried you wouldn't finish that last tree,” he replied.

  “What are you thinking, Cap?”

  The Captain took a seat on the grass and looked up at the sun with an expression of a man who knows exactly what's ahead but can't find the words to express it. He finished his drink and laughed.

  “I think that after all these years we're the most qualified to know a bad omen when we feel it. I don't know, I get the same sense of things that you do – that we're on the verge of something and I reckon that machine is just the beginning of the long drop down. To where? I don't know.”

  “It bothers me. I thought our days in the mud were behind us. Now look - when we've earned our retirement we're already being drawn into something that will no doubt put us back in the blood again,” said Haggart.

  “I think deep down you've wanted this moment to come.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “I see the way you look at them,” said the Captain. “Every time you send them out you have that look on your face, the look of a man who wants to be right there with them, doing it himself.”

  “That says more about them than it does me.”

  “I know. We've been at this for more years than I can remember and I know how you think. You don't trust them to do the job half as well as you think you can do it yourself. You were like this up until we handed back our weapons the day the Council marched into the City.”

  “I like a job done properly, what can I say?” he replied.

  “It's more than that. It's the fact that you want to be involved. You don't want to ever reach a point where things are happening and you're not a part of them. I tell you what will happen tomorrow - we'll learn that there's something big going on and we'll ride out once more to stick our noses in it. Am I right?”

  Haggart laughed but said nothing.

  “You want something to happen as much as I do,” the Captain said. “Sure, we love the sun and the grass and the hills and the peace we've enjoyed out here - but we're not doing what we're best at doing.”

  “And what's that?”

  “Struggling. Achieving. Making a difference. I'm talking about more than just war, more than just killing. I'm talking about the desire to do something more than just sit on our arses and wait to die. You want to find out what the Courier is so afraid of, what that machine is doing under the mill, what that package was. You want to tug on the loose strand and see what unravels. Tell me I'
m wrong.”

  “I don't think I can, in fact I think you're absolutely spot on, Captain.”

  They sat in silence for a moment, watching Lorrie return with an empty cart. Then Haggart voiced his main concern.

  “What about her?” he asked. “If it comes to it, what do we do about her?”

  “My first thoughts were that she'd lose control. Over the last few days I’ve seen quite the opposite. She's been studying and working hard and I think that in a strange way we have that Hunter to be thankful to. He made her realise the risk she faces if she doesn't learn to master her own abilities. If we do go to the City, I think we should take her with us.”

  “Really? Into the belly of the beast?”

  “The answers are there, Cap whether we like it or not. Once we're there we can see for ourselves what happened to Amos, to his family and maybe getter a better grasp on the situation. We need to understand the vision. We need to see what the Council makes of these strange goings on. I'd rather have Lorrie there with us than leave her behind with Hunters on our doorstep.”

  “I suppose you're right.”

  “If the case against Amos looks tight then I will risk looking into registering her, getting her some proper training and a piece of paper that will protect her from those animals out there.”

  “Are you saying you trust the Council?” Haggart laughed.

  “No, I'm not. It's just that I don't want my emotions to cloud my thinking. I should govern my decisions with the facts, not my own feelings. We'll get to the bottom of all this, then make the wisest choice.”

  “If you register her, you'd have to leave her behind. Can you do that?”

  “We'll see - I don't want to plan too far ahead. I can only see as far as Hector's place.”