by Stuart Daly
Caspan’s eyes narrowed and he looked at Morgan. ‘Just like the berserker we encountered at Saint Justyn’s.’
The Master nodded. ‘They’re the fiercest of the Roon. They have no fear of death and stir themselves into an uncontrollable bloodlust. One of them is bad enough, let alone a company of hundreds.’
‘They crashed into our soldiers like an avalanche,’ Raven continued. ‘Our lines crumbled, and it turned into a desperate race to escape. Some pockets of resistance held out, but everywhere men dropped their weapons and ran for their lives. In the panic, many soldiers fell and were trampled to death. Some managed to scramble up the sides of the ravine to reach us, but most were dragged back down by the Roon and slaughtered.’ Raven lowered her eyes. ‘I loosed arrows until my fingers bled, but there was nothing I could do to save them.’
Morgan patted her on the shoulder. ‘General Bryan of the Third Legion was one of the last to fall. He and his personal guard, all armed with shadow blades, held out for half an hour. But then the General’s Warden fell. It wasn’t long after that Bryan was slain and the Roon swarmed over his guards.’ He stared grimly ahead, envisaging the scene. ‘That’s when Raven, Thom and I summoned our Wardens and came down from the ledges. We held the giants off for as long as we could. The men you see around you here were lucky to make it out, but thousands weren’t so fortunate. Several hundred were also captured and taken prisoner.’
Shanty pointed at a slash across the Master’s leather vest, and a torn section of chainmail on Thom’s shoulder. ‘By the look of it, you just made it out.’
Morgan shrugged, as if his wound wasn’t even worth consideration.
Raven slipped her bow from her shoulder and inspected a frayed section of string. ‘And now we’ve got to hold this position until the First Legion reaches Chester Hill.’
‘I spoke to General Liam before leaving Castle Crag,’ Shanty said. ‘He’ll be there by tomorrow nightfall. Hopefully he’ll be in position before the Roon reach this river.’
Raven looked doubtful. ‘Roon scouts have been spotted in the woods barely a mile north of here, and that was over an hour ago.’
Morgan clicked his tongue. ‘Meaning they could be spying on us from the northern bank of the river right now.’
‘And what of Oswald?’ Caspan asked worriedly, wondering where the elderly treasure hunter was.
Raven smiled reassuringly. ‘He’s up in the keep studying maps of the region, planning a route to Chester Hill for when we eventually need to pull back.’
‘I should go and help him,’ Sara offered. ‘I mightn’t be that handy with a sword, but show me a map and I can easily plan an escape route.’
Roland frowned. ‘Won’t we just follow the most direct route south?’
‘It mightn’t be that simple with several thousand Roon hot on our heels,’ Raven replied, then smiled at Sara. ‘I’m sure Oswald would like that.’ She shifted her gaze to Caspan and Roland. ‘Why don’t you each grab a bow and a quiver from that wagon over there and join Thom, Shadow and me on a scouting mission? We’re keen to find out just how close the Roon are and would appreciate the help.’
Roland frowned. ‘Shadow?’
‘She’s my guardian dire wolf.’
‘Ah, that’s right.’ Roland cocked his head to the side. ‘I’ve never really thought about it until now, but it’s surprising how many of the Brotherhood have dire wolves. There’s you, Master Morgan and Duke Connal. Let me guess – Oswald has one too?’
‘No,’ replied Raven. ‘He has a unicorn named Legend.’
‘A unicorn! I didn’t know they came in that.’ Roland regarded Shanty. ‘And Legend – what a great name. You should’ve consulted Oswald when you were thinking of a name for Ferris.’ Before the dwarf could reply, Roland glanced questioningly at Thom. ‘What magical guardian do you have?’
Thom hand-signalled Raven, who chuckled softly. ‘Thom would like me to tell you that he’d love to have a Warden, but he’d never be able to whisper its name and summon it. He’s mute.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ Roland apologised. ‘I never knew.’
Sara pouted her bottom lip at Thom. ‘So you’re the only member of the Brotherhood who doesn’t have a magical guardian?’
Thom tapped Raven on the shoulder and made another series of hand signals, but this time Caspan paid close attention. He hadn’t been watching Thom the first time he signed, but he’d caught the final movement of his hands in the corner of his eye and thought he recognised the symbol. Studying him closely now, he was surprised to find that he understood every word the treasure hunter was saying with his hands.
Caspan turned to Raven and signed. He just asked you to tell Sara that there’s no need for him to have a Warden. He has us to watch his back.
Roland chortled and nudged Caspan playfully. ‘Yeah, good one.’
Thom’s eyes widened at Caspan. I didn’t know you could sign, he signalled.
‘I didn’t know I could sign’, Caspan replied out loud so that everyone could follow the conversation. ‘At least, not until now. The Black Hand used secret hand signals when thieving at night. I thought they were a code that only members of the thieves’ guild understood, but we must have been using common sign language.’
I often wondered if that was the case, Raven messaged him. Do you know of Master Scott’s past?
Yes, why? Caspan signalled.
Raven smiled. I’m glad he confided in you. You have a lot in common.
Cast from the same mould, I’d say, Thom signed.
Caspan was surprised at how liberating it felt using a language system he had only previously used when on thieving missions. So Master Scott can also sign?
Thom nodded. Scott and Oswald are the only other members of the Brotherhood I can communicate with. It’s a skill Scott mastered when working for the thieves’ guild in Briston.
Caspan gave Thom a quizzical look. And what of Oswald? Don’t tell me he was once a member of a thieves’ guild?
Thom gave Caspan a wry look. I don’t think there’s any language Oswald doesn’t understand. He taught himself how to sign long before he joined the Brotherhood. He grinned. I hope your hands don’t get too tired. I don’t get many chances to talk to people, and I love a good chat.
Raven smirked at Caspan. Good luck to you. Thom never shuts up.
Roland planted his hands on his hips and snorted. ‘Well, isn’t this nice. Look at you three, chatting away like there’s no tomorrow and we can’t understand a word of it.’ He made a ridiculous series of hand signals, culminating with him almost accidentally sticking a finger in his eye.
Sara shook his head at him. ‘What on earth do you think you’re doing?’
Roland grinned and shrugged. ‘Just trying to join in on the conversation.’
Raven laughed as she drew her dagger and severed the frayed string on her bow. She untied it at the ends, attached a fresh string and tested the tension. Satisfied, she slung her bow over her shoulder.
‘So what about it, boys?’ she asked, looking at Caspan and Roland. ‘Care to join us on a scouting mission? I know Shadow will appreciate Frostbite and Bandit’s company.’
The grin slowly faded from Roland’s lips. Sensing his friend’s reticence, Caspan was about to explain on his behalf what had happened to Bandit, when Sara cleared her throat, drawing everyone’s attention. She then gave a detailed account of the fight against the rocs. Raven lowered her eyes, her expression grave, and Morgan placed a sympathetic hand on Roland’s shoulder.
‘I’m so sorry, Roland,’ he said softly. ‘I’m sure Bandit will be fighting by your side in a few weeks’ time.’
Caspan gave Roland a reassuring smile. ‘That’s exactly what I told him.’
Roland glanced at Raven. ‘Sorry, I don’t think I’ll be going on any scouting missions for a while.’
‘Nonsense,’ she replied. ‘You can ride tandem with me. Now hurry up and grab a bow and quiver before I change my mind.’
Roland smil
ed appreciatively. ‘Thanks, Raven.’
Morgan turned to Shanty. ‘I’m about to help Captain Jace inspect the battlements and work out a plan of defence. Care to help?’
Shanty slapped his thigh. ‘Is a Roon as ugly as a toad?’ The others chortled and the dwarf gave Morgan a questioning look. ‘But where’s the garrison’s commander? Surely he’d know best how to defend this stronghold.’
‘He and his soldiers fell in the Pass,’ Morgan replied. ‘We were lucky he left four men back here to raise the drawbridge and let us inside.’
‘Just keep Shanty away from the armoury,’ Roland warned the Master. ‘Not unless you want every soldier in this fortress running around in nothing but their underwear.’
Shanty chuckled and opened his mouth to reply, when one of the soldiers atop the barbican gave a gargled cry and toppled off the side, a feathered shaft lodged in his chest. The treasure hunters and Jace each grabbed a bow and quiver and raced up the stairwell to the battlements.
‘I don’t think we’ll need to do that scouting mission after all,’ Caspan muttered to Raven as they hid behind merlons and set arrows to their strings.
They peered through the embrasures and spotted black shapes moving through the trees on the far side of the river. Bowstrings hummed and arrows zipped out of the darkness to thwack into the fortifications. Raven took cover behind a merlon just in time to avoid a shaft that whistled past her head. She drew back her bowstring and tested its tension. ‘I can make out six of them.’
‘Let’s see if we can reduce that number.’ Caspan pulled back his string. In one fluid motion he rolled his shoulder around the merlon, brought his bow up and loosed his arrow at one of the Roon. There was a pained cry from the trees and a heavy thud.
Raven nodded, impressed. She then darted into the crenellation and her bowstring hummed. A second later there was another cry from beyond the river. ‘That leaves only four,’ she said, sliding back behind cover.
‘And I haven’t even started yet,’ Roland announced as he stepped out from behind a merlon and took aim. His arrow went high, skimming through the tops of the trees.
Shanty cocked an eyebrow at him. ‘You were saying?’
Roland inspected his bow. ‘Ah, just as I suspected. It’s bent.’
Caspan rolled his eyes, nocked another arrow and took aim. This time his shaft thudded into a tree, and he leapt back to avoid an enemy shot that zipped barely an inch above his head.
‘Be careful,’ Morgan cautioned. ‘Remember, these parapets are lit up by torches, making us easy targets.’
Sara grabbed the closest torch and stamped it out. ‘Then let’s even the odds a little.’
‘That won’t make any difference to the Roon,’ Morgan said. ‘The giants can see in the dark. But extinguishing the torches will at least acclimate our eyes and let us spot the Roon more easily.’
The companions scurried along the battlements, putting out torches and drowning the parapet in darkness, before returning to the crenellations to scan the far bank.
Sara’s eyes narrowed. ‘There’s one.’ She raised her bow, drew back the string and slid into the gap between the merlons. Her bow twanged and a giant slumped to his knees, clutching the shaft that punctured through his chainmail vest.
‘Nice shot,’ Raven commended as she swiftly set an arrow to her bow and loosed, killing the giant before he could climb to his feet.
‘That’s exactly what I would’ve done – if I had a bow that wasn’t bent,’ Roland muttered.
Eventually the treasure hunters dispatched the remaining Roon. The woods to the north of the river fell silent, and the friends studied the trees for a while before Raven headed out to check that the area was clear.
Caspan, Roland, Sara, Shanty and Ferris accompanied her. Raven led the group, gliding through the darkness like a fleeting shadow over the forest floor. An arrow was set to her bowstring, pulled back at half draw, ready to shoot at an instant’s notice. But not even she was as skilled in woodlore as Ferris. The faun quickly picked up the Roons’ tracks, confirming that there had only been six giants and that there were no more in the area. The treasure hunters then returned to the stronghold to report back to Jace.
The Captain had set up a makeshift headquarters in a large chamber in the central keep. A map of Andalon was spread on the table and weighted down with a helmet and daggers. Studying the map, Caspan finally came to understand the strategic importance of Rivergate. Situated on the swift-flowing Mooryn, it was the only crossing to the south between Westford and Hollen; the final obstacle in the Roon’s way to Briston. And this was why it had to be held at all costs until the First Legion and the southern reserves could get into position at Chester Hill.
‘It’s good you took care of the Roon scouts,’ Jace said upon hearing Raven’s report. ‘They won’t be able to report back to the main army and tell them we’re here. We can use that to our advantage.’
Raven leaned over the map. ‘If we destroy the causeway to the north, that would force the Roon to travel around to Westford or Hollen. It would buy the First Legion several more hours to get ready. More reserves might even be mustered.’
Jace shook his head. ‘It’s a good idea, but it won’t work. I’ve inspected the causeway, and it would take a hundred men a week to break it apart.’
‘Then we’ll hold them off with arrows,’ Shanty suggested. ‘They can’t storm this fort if we don’t let them get any further than ten yards across the causeway.’
Jace looked at him sceptically. ‘If we had the arrows we could, but we only managed to salvage one of the supply wagons before leaving the Pass. We’d be lucky if we have fifty full quivers between us.’
‘That should be more than ample to do the job,’ Roland said.
‘Not against an army of thousands.’ The Captain glanced at Morgan, who stood silently by a window, staring at the woods beyond the river. ‘What about your magical guardians? They saved us back in the Pass.’
‘We’ll do what we can,’ Morgan said, turning to face Jace. ‘But we’ve lost the element of surprise. The Roon will now be expecting our Wardens. We might not be so lucky next time.’
‘I bet they won’t be ready for Frostbite,’ Roland commented. The Master and Raven gave him confused looks, and he elucidated, ‘He can breathe fire.’
Morgan gasped. ‘What?’
‘I was wondering when that might happen,’ a familiar voice said, and the friends turned to find Oswald standing in the doorway.
The elderly treasure hunter was wrapped in the same oversized black Brotherhood cloak he’d worn when he first met the recruits back in the Eagle’s Eyrie for their first lesson of Dray relics. He pushed his spectacles higher up his hawk-like nose and beamed as the young treasure hunters rushed over to greet him.
‘Not so hard. You’ll snap my back if you’re not too careful,’ Oswald cautioned as he pulled away from Caspan’s embrace. He shuffled over to plonk down on one of the seats around the table. ‘I’m so glad to see you’re all okay.’ His smile faded as he studied the faces in the room. ‘Where’s Kilt?’
‘She stayed behind at Castle Crag.’ Roland leaned in close to Oswald and whispered in his ear, ‘I think she’s got a thing for a certain young baron.’
Oswald exhaled a relieved breath and patted his chest. ‘Thank goodness she’s all right. I don’t think my poor old heart could have dealt with such sad news.’ He nestled back in his chair, regarded the recruits and smiled. ‘Just take a look at all of you – in your official Brotherhood cloaks. I couldn’t be more proud.’ He turned to Caspan. ‘It sounds as if Frostbite’s revealed a secret talent.’
Sara gave the grey-haired treasure hunter a suspicious look. ‘You don’t sound too surprised.’
‘I always wondered if Frostbite could breathe fire,’ Oswald replied. ‘He is, after all, a drake.’
‘But how about Master Scott’s Warden, Shimmer?’ Caspan asked. ‘She’s also a drake, but she’s never done it. Well, not as far as I know.’<
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‘Have you ever noticed the scar on her neck?’ Oswald asked. ‘I’ve suspected that she was injured a long time ago. Often she makes strange coughing sounds, and I’ve wondered if she’s trying to breathe fire, but can’t.’
Sara nodded. ‘I’ve noticed that, but I just thought she had a cold.’
Roland grinned. ‘And you never handed her a kerchief? Shame on you.’
Sara shoved him playfully, then looked questioningly at Oswald. ‘But why didn’t you tell Caspan about Frostbite?’
Roland folded his arms across his chest as he scrutinised the old man. ‘Yeah, why not?’
‘As I said, I’ve suspected that Frostbite could breathe fire, but I never knew for certain.’ Oswald gave Caspan an apologetic look. ‘I didn’t want to get your hopes up for no reason.’ Caspan nodded, conceding Oswald’s logic. The elderly treasure hunter rubbed his chin in thought and regarded the map. ‘We need to work out how to use Frostbite to our advantage.’
‘Isn’t it obvious?’ Roland said. ‘We can get Frostbite to stick his head up over the parapets and roast the Roon.’
Caspan shook his head. ‘The trees are too close. Roon archers will no doubt take cover behind them and shoot at Frostbite.’
Sara nodded in his support. ‘You saw what happened back at Saint Justyn’s. All it will take is one arrow to hit him in the underside of his neck and Frostbite might be killed.’
‘I can always hold a shield in front of him,’ Roland offered.
Morgan gave the black-haired boy a dour look. ‘And snatch arrows out of the air with your free hand?’ Roland nodded enthusiastically and opened his mouth to comment, but the Master stopped him with a scowl. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. If you don’t have anything sensible to say can you kindly keep your mouth closed.’
Roland lapsed into a brooding silence and turned up his nose at the Master when he wasn’t looking.
Captain Jace exhaled wearily as he strode over to a window and peered down at the northern causeway. ‘The trick is to work out how to prevent the Roon from crossing the Mooryn. We’ve raised the drawbridge, but that created a gap of only ten yards. That won’t stop the Roon for long.’