“I didn’t know buildings of such scale were still possible,” said Lee, unable to hide the fact that he was impressed.
“Kratis is being rebuilt,” said Lanmore. “In the time of King Rätsterfel it was the greatest city in the world. The Reborn King has discovered the secrets of the ancients, or so I’ve been told, and will see it returned to its former glory.”
“So it would seem,” said Lee.
The garrison came into view minutes later, and was nearly an exact copy of the one in Klinton, only four times the size. Lee guessed that it housed at least fifteen hundred men. Lanmore halted them at a narrow road leading east just before reaching the fort and ordered the soldiers to escort the recruits to their barracks. Lee was told these were a mile west of the main garrison. He knew this may present a problem if things went wrong, but there was little he could do about it.
“You will come with me,” said Lanmore. “I need to present you to Lord Pollus, the garrison commander. He's a bit of a pompous ass, but a competent leader. Keep quiet and only speak when spoken to.”
Lee followed Lanmore to the gatehouse. Two guards halted them.
“And you are?” asked the guard.
Lanmore stepped forward, bringing his face a mere inch from the guard’s. “You know very well who I am. Are we to do this again?”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, sir,” he replied with disdain. “I simply didn’t recognize you at first.”
Both guards smirked, then stepped aside, allowing Lanmore entry. But when Lee tried to follow, his path was barred.
“He's with me,” said Lanmore. “Allow him to pass.”
“Not until I get word from Lord Pollus - Captain.” The guard stiffened his back. “Until then, he can wait here with us.”
Lanmore glared at the guard before stalking off into the fort. Lee waited silently. The guards didn't seem interested in conversation and completely ignored him. After ten minutes the captain returned. He shoved a piece of parchment firmly into the guard’s chest and motioned for Lee to follow.
“They can't stand it when a commoner advances through the ranks,” explained Lanmore as they passed through the gatehouse. “In their minds, only a lord should command.”
Lee cracked a smile. “In my experience, if only lords commanded, it would take a year to march an army ten miles.”
Lanmore threw his head back in laughter. “I wouldn't repeat that in the officers’ barracks. Especially round those bloody Baltrian fools. Most will run straight to Lord Pollus to try and curry favor. And frankly, he isn't known for his humor.”
“I'll keep that in mind.” Hearing that Baltrian lords would be near did not ease Lee's mind. He hoped that they would be too young to recognize him.
The main yard was filled with soldiers, about three hundred in total, drilling and marching. The barracks were as high as the curtain walls, with two catapults placed on each of the flat roofs. The keep was much larger than that in the other fort as well, standing two stories high and covered with arrow slits capable of raining down terror inside the parade yard should the walls be breached. The clash of metal, stomping of boots and shouting of orders combined to fill the air with a cacophony of noise. Lee marveled that the sound did not carry outside of the fort, or even through the gatehouse. The design must have held its own secrets. Even the catapults appeared sophisticated compared with others he'd seen. He saw only a single hand crank, and a long metal tube placed just above the arm. Lee guessed that this held the shot. If a single soldier could operate this weapon, instead of the usual four, it would be devastating. A lone platoon could wreak havoc.
The entrance to the keep was unguarded, but Lanmore still paused long enough to take a deep breath before flinging open the door. Lee followed him inside. The gray stone floor and walls were lined with weapon racks and maps. To his left were three rows of long tables, with a door at the far corner leading to the kitchens. To his right, where he expected there to be an officers’ lounging area, were instead dozens of desks and small tables. Cotton and linen clad bureaucrats sat busy at their duties, not even bothering to look up as Lee and Captain Lanmore passed by.
“Welcome to the heart of the kingdom,” joked Lanmore.
“This is where we take our meals?” asked Lee.
Lanmore shook his head, chuckling softly. “No. I'm afraid the keep is reserved for the commander and these fine fellows. We take our meals in the barracks.”
They entered a door directly ahead. Through this, a long hall ended in a flight of stairs leading to the second level. At the top, the hall split off into two directions, each with several doors along the walls.
“The bureaucrats stay in these rooms,” said Lanmore. “They’re quite comfortable compared to our quarters.”
“A soldier has no need of comfort,” said Lee.
They turned left for several yards, then right for a few more until reaching an elaborately carved mahogany door. Attached in the center of this was a polished silver carving of broken scales, the sigil of Angrääl. Only with great self-control did Lee manage to fight back the urge to smash it to pieces, and to keep the feelings of disgust from showing on his face Captain Lanmore knocked firmly before pushing the door open.
In the center of the room they entered was a round table on which rested various maps and charts, while at the far end was a large oak desk. A long rope hung from a small hole in the ceiling just behind the desk. To Lee’s right, a plush, tan suede couch and four matching chairs with small brass end tables were arranged in a semi-circle facing a hearth that burned brightly. Three polished brass lanterns hung from the ceiling center, and two more protruded from each wall at ten-foot intervals. Behind the desk hung a mural depicting a gleaming champion on horseback leading a charge against an elf army. Between the lanterns on the left stood an oak bookcase that held beautifully leather-bound tomes along with a crystal decanter and glasses.
A man sat behind the desk dressed in a fine white shirt and a red jacket. His salt and pepper hair was oiled and combed back in regal fashion. His tan skin gleamed in the bright light, offsetting his fragile build and narrow features.
“Ah, Captain Lanmore,” said the Commander. His voice was tinny and a bit feminine. “I see you have arrived ahead of schedule. And with a new officer.”
Lanmore bowed his head sharply. “Yes, Commander. The message said to come with all speed.”
“Indeed, it did,” said Lord Pollus. “And yet you chose to travel with the recruits rather than on horseback.” He rose to his feet. Though thin, he was quite tall – as tall as Lee – and walked with the effortless grace of a true noble. He sighed. “I suppose there is nothing to be done.” He finally took notice of Lee, looking him up and down. “And you are?”
“I am Barath, My Lord,” said Lee, bowing as Lanmore had done.
“Just Barath?” Pollus shook his head and frowned. “Yet another commoner.” He turned and went back to his deck. “I suppose if Captain Lanmore deems you worthy, you will do.” His eyes fell on the captain. “He is your responsibility and under your command. And please, if he doesn’t have a last name, tell him to choose one. People will think he’s one of those native Angrääl barbarians our gracious king has scattered among our ranks. Dreadful people.”
“You will be pleased to know that Barath fought one of those before we set out,” said Lanmore.
Pollus raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? And you survived. Impressive.”
“He did more than survive,” said Lanmore, puffing out his chest. “He defeated him as if fighting a child.”
“Impressive, indeed.” Lord Pollus opened his desk drawer, pulled out a piece of parchment, and scrawled something on it. After blowing the ink dry, he pushed it across the desk. “This is your commission - Barath. If for no other reason than ridding the world of an uncouth beast, I am happy to give it. I have left enough room for you to put in a proper name.”
Lee took the parchment and bowed again. “Thank you, My Lord.”
Lo
rd Pollus reached behind him and pulled down on the rope. A moment later a thin, blond boy in a dark blue tunic and trousers scurried in.
“Show this man downstairs,” Pollus ordered. “He is to be given a commission under Captain Lanmore.” He dismissed the boy with a wave. “As for you, captain, I will speak with you now.”
Lanmore looked sideways at Lee. “I will join you as soon as I can.” He then turned to the boy. “If I am not down in time, show him to the barracks when he's done.”
Lee bowed one last time and followed the boy downstairs. He was taken to a desk where a scrawny wraith of a man was busy scribbling on one of the many pieces of parchment piled high on his desk. Lee held out his commission.
The man didn't look up, but opened the parchment and began writing notes. “What is your surname?”
“Drakis,” Lee replied. Drakis was the name of a fiend in a story he’d heard as a child. He almost smirked at the thought, but it was the only thing he could think of at the time.
“You have an odd sense of humor,” the man said off-handedly. “And before you ask, I know that tale as well. All men of the north do.”
Lee sat quietly as the man spent the next half hour writing, checking, and then double-checking each note. Finally, he handed Lee a small round wooden token with the number one painted on either side.
“Give this to the quartermaster,” He straightened the pile of papers on his desk. “He’ll issue you with what equipment you’ll need.”
Lee stood up and turned to the door. The blond boy was standing just behind him, waiting patiently. Halfway to the barracks, Captain Lanmore caught up with them.
“I'll take it from here, boy,” said Lanmore. Without a word the boy ran back to the keep. “Did you pick a name?”
“I'll be known as Barath Drakis,” Lee replied.
“A dire name to be sure,” he said, with obvious approval.
“Will it be possible to see my nephew?” asked Lee.
“I thought you weren't close,” said Lanmore. “In fact, if I recall, you nearly took his head off the last time you spoke.”
“I would not have it end as such between us,” Lee explained. “Though I have no great affection for him, he is my sister's child.”
Lanmore nodded. “I'll see what I can do. Until then, we need to get you settled in. We'll be here for three weeks.”
“A short time for training,” said Lee.
“Pollus likes you,” said Lanmore. “Mostly because you killed Lars. But I also assured him that you understand military discipline, and that I would personally train you.” He stopped and faced Lee. “Do not disappoint me, Barath Drakis.”
“I will not,” said Lee. A tinge of guilt struck him. He knew that he would indeed soon be betraying the captain’s trust. And even though he was the enemy, Lee was beginning to respect him.
“Good.” Lanmore slapped Lee on the back. “I enjoy having officers without the arrogance of nobility draped about their shoulders.”
The barracks was no more than a two-story warehouse with dozens and dozens of three-man bunks lining the walls and a series of long tables and benches in the center. A brazier, filled with hot coals, had been placed between the tables on either side of the entrance. A crude flight of wooden spiral stairs stood dead center. Only a few dozen men were scattered about. Some were sleeping, others playing cards and dice at the tables, and a few reading over paperwork or going over maps. Most took notice as they entered, but none spoke.
“Officers of the Reborn King live the same as the common soldier,” said Lanmore as they entered. “We're lucky to have arrived when we did. The day watch is on duty now, so we'll not have to spend the next hour on introductions. The night watch are mostly commoners like us. They don't care much about who comes and goes.” He walked toward the stairs. “We'll be bunking on the second floor.”
The upper floor was much like the lower, except for several casks of ale neatly stacked along the far left wall. Lanmore removed his pack, throwing it on an empty bed and motioning for Lee to do the same. He then escorted him back outside and around the side of the keep to the quartermaster’s stores. In exchange for the wooden token, Lee was first of all handed a tunic embroidered with the sigil of Angrääl. Showing on the sleeves was one red star signifying his rank of lieutenant. Next, he was supplied with a set of studded leather armor. He was also offered a sword, but told the quartermaster that he would rather use his own weapon; the man looked down at it and nodded approvingly. A large, burlap bundle containing a commissioned man’s coat, boots and trousers contained the final items that would complete Lee’s transformation into an officer.
“Anything else, you have to buy for yourself,” said the quartermaster grumpily. “There are smiths and armorers in Kratis who can outfit you if you want something sturdier than plain leather. I’d also go there if you need your sword tended. I don’t trust the garrison smithy.”
Lee thanked the man and left.
It was nearly full dark by the time they returned to the barracks. The day watch was just beginning to file in, all of who took immediate notice of Lee and Lanmore. Hissing whispers of speculation could be heard throughout the room as servants busied themselves preparing the table for the evening meal.
“We needn't bother with this lot tonight unless you want to.” said Lanmore. “I intend to take my meal in the bunk, then get a good night’s sleep.”
Lee knew he should at least try to gather information, but felt it may be better to speak with Lanmore in a more relaxed setting. “I think I will do the same.”
Lanmore called over a servant and instructed him to have their meals brought up. The meal was a simple beef stew and salted bread, along with a cup of sweet wine. As simple as it was, Lee was grateful for the sustenance. After a servant retrieved their plates and cups, Lee stripped off his clothing and changed into a pair of heavy cotton pants and thick wool socks. He felt his muscles relax as he eased into his bunk. He had to fight the urge to fall asleep.
“May I asked you a question, sir?” Lee rolled over so he could see Lanmore.
“Ask,” he replied, yawning.
“How did you end up in the service of the Reborn King?”
Lanmore smiled and slid down beneath his blanket. “At one time, I was captain of the Kaltinor city guard. I was accused of theft and treason by the city temples and forced to flee or face execution.” He laughed softly “I journeyed north to Hazrah and caught word that Angrääl was seeking soldiers. I heard that a man could remake himself there, no matter what burdens his past carried. It sounded like a good idea at the time, so off I went. The funny thing is, as it turned out, it was Angrääl that controlled the temples in Kaltinor, and probably gave the order to have me accused in the first place.”
“If you know this, why not return?”
Lanmore closed his eyes “I have pledged my fealty to the Reborn King. I couldn't return now, even if I wished to. You'll understand when you're in his presence. When that happens, there's no turning back - ever.”
Having said that, he drifted off into a deep sleep.
***
Lee awoke abruptly a short time later and instinctively reached for his sword.
“Don't move!” yelled a harsh voice.
He looked up to see five soldiers, all of them pointing crossbows at him. He raised his hands.
“What is the meaning of this?” roared Captain Lanmore. “Answer me at once!”
From the stairs, Lord Pollus strode toward them, glaring at the captain. “It would seem, my dear captain, that you have brought a spy along with you.” His gaze fell on Lee. “Don't bother with denials - Lord Nal'Thain.”
Lanmore leaped from his bunk. “Barath?”
Lee's eyes never left Lord Pollus. “How did you find me out?”
Pollus laughed. “Your son, My Lord. How else?”
Chapter 17
Linis returned shortly before dawn, just as the armies were preparing to march. He and his scouts had found the cliffs unguarded, t
hough they had seen Vrykol lurking there.
“The Vrykol fell back the moment we approached,” Linis told Theopolou.
Theopolou nodded and left to inform the king. Linis joined Kaylia and Selena, both of who had been ordered to join the rear guard. Kaylia was clearly unhappy about this.
“I don't like being treated like I'm some helpless child in need of protection,” she complained.
“We can't afford for you to be harmed,” Linis told her. “If you are killed or captured, what would happen to Gewey?”
“Besides,” Selena added, “you may not need protection, but I do. And I feel much better with you at my side.” She smiled. “And didn't you promise your husband that you would stay safe until his return?”
Kaylia mumbled angrily, but did not pursue the matter further.
Soon, the huge army set off. Marching at the head were Nehrutu, Mohanisi, the elf bowmen, and the human shield bearers. Theopolou, along with Chiron, led the vast mass of elf soldiers just behind this front line. The other elders were scattered among the elves, serving as captains. At the rear, led by King Lousis, the Althetans were just behind Kaylia, Selena, and Linis.
Selena was surrounded by what remained of the Valsharan guard, along with a few other knights who had arrived following the siege. Ertik had refused to let her out of his sight, and spent most of his time seeing to her every need.
“How are you faring?” The boisterous voice came from behind. It was King Lousis, sat astride a great black warhorse.
“We are well,” replied Selena. “And you?”
“I long for battle, High Lady.” He leaped from his horse with the vigor of a much younger man. “I hope that the elves don't win the day before I arrive.”
“I pray they do,” said Selena. “I would not see you in peril. Your people need you. As do all free people of the world. In these times, a stout heart and firm resolve is in short supply.”
“I think they need you far more than they need me, My Lady.” His friendly smile was a welcome respite from the nervous tension of men and elves preparing for war. “Your name will become a battle cry after today, and Valshara a symbol of hope for victory.”
The Godling Chronicles : Bundle - Books 1-3 Page 84