“Pay him no heed,” the bearded man said in my ear. “He’s just pissy about Smallen, but he’ll be over it in a day or two.”
“Smallen?” I asked.
“The man you laid out in the dungeon.”
“Oh,” I said, and I felt my gut clench. It seemed everyone in the Gray Hunters Guild knew what I had done to one of their comrades.
“Most of the lads are pissed about it now,” the bearded man said, “but more out of principle than because of any liking for Smallen. A right nasty cunt, he was. None of us liked him, and all of us wanted to do him in on more than one occasion.” His teeth shone white against his black beard as he smiled. “You’re just the one lucky enough to do the deed.”
He released his grip on my arm as we left the ring of seated men behind and reached a clearing a short distance from the rocky hollow where we made our camp.
“Our turn on watch isn’t actually for a few more hours,” the man said, “but knowing Grendis like I do, I figured I’d get you out of there before one of you ended up dead.” He winked at me and grinned. “Given what I heard about your fight with Smallen and the thieves in the city, I’d give it pretty even odds.”
“Thanks,” I said, and held out a hand. “I’m Ethan.”
“Adatharan, though most of the lads just call me Adath.” He shook my hand. “Tell me, Ethan, how well can you handle that thing?” He pointed to the axe that hung from the shoulder harness Master Krastin had given me.
“I know which side is the dangerous end,” I replied and gave him a grin. I drew the axe and held it in a comfortable grip, with the blade side facing the ground.
“Ever fought a dragon?” Adath asked.
I shook my head.
“Ever been in a battle of any kind?”
“Aside from the fights I’ve had here in Whitespire and an occasional class in self-defense, never,” I told him.
“Right,” he mused, as he combed his fingers through his beard. “Well, let’s see if we can’t teach you a few things. Show me your stance.”
I’d watched the CFD honor guard on parade and I was pretty certain Adath wouldn’t want to see all that formal, fancy axe twirling. The Academy had taught me how to swing an axe to break down a door or shatter a lock, but I’d never given any thought to how to use it in a fight. I adopted a boxer’s stance, with my right foot slightly back and to one side and gripped my axe in two hands.
“Interesting,” he said as he strode around me to study my form. He came to stand in front of me, with a few feet of open space between us. “Interesting, indeed.”
Without warning, his hand went for the sword hanging at his hip, and my brain froze as he drew the blade and rushed forward to attack me.
Chapter Eight
His attack caught me off guard, but I still brought my axe up in time to deflect the blow. He made another swing, but I jumped back out of reach of his blade.
“Hey, what the fuck are you doing?” I shouted, but Adath showed no sign of hearing me. He followed me around the clearing, and his sword sang through the fading evening light as he hacked, slashed, and chopped at me.
I knocked aside one of his strikes and jumped back from a low blow aimed at my knee. My foot caught on a tree root, and I staggered to one side off balance. He moved faster than I expected, and it took all of my concentration to keep his sword from hitting me as he struck at my legs, sides, and torso.
I let out a roar as I swung at him with all the force of my arms. He ducked the axe strike and blocked my low kick with his leg. Clearly, he’d trained in unarmed combat far more than I had. My shin ached from the contact with his, and I retreated from his attacks.
I saw him swing low for my legs again, but I was better prepared this time, so I jumped over the strike and punched out with the butt end of my axe. The wood slammed into his armor hard enough to dent the metal, and he staggered backward out of reach.
I lifted my axe to attack, but Adath made no move toward me. He merely nodded and sheathed his sword.
“What the fucking hell was that?” I demanded.
“Had to test your reflexes, didn’t I?” Adath’s teeth shone white in the evening gloom as he laughed. “It’s important to know what sort of raw material I was working with if I’m going to train you.”
“Train me?” I said, and my jaw dropped. “Why didn’t you just say that?”
“It’s easier this way,” Adath said with a grin. “Catch a man in a situation where he has to fight for his life, and you see the truth of what sort of fighter he’ll be. You’re rough and untrained, but there’s enough skill in your muscles to keep you alive until I can pound some discipline into you.” He rubbed his chest ruefully. “And, you hit harder than I expected. Not bad, for a newbie.”
“Uhh, thanks, I think.” I still gripped my axe in my hands, and I expected him to continue attacking me. He’d gone from friendly to attacking me and back to friendly in the space of less than a minute. The sudden change caught me off-guard even more than his surprise attack.
“Come on, lad,” he said and clapped a hand on my back, “let’s get you back to camp and fed. You’ll be standing the midnight watch, and we’ll be up at dawn to train with that axe of yours.”
“Okay,” I said as I followed him through the forest toward the small ring of firelight where Sir Galfred and the rest of the men sat. Two of the Gray Hunters shot me curious looks as I returned, but Adath waved them off by saying, “He’ll take the midnight watch.”
The two men nodded and returned to their work of sharpening their swords. As I looked around the camp, I noticed all the men not on watch were engaged in some sort of maintenance of their gear. They ran whetstones over the blades of their swords, spears, and axes, checked the straps on their armor, or whittled long, straight sticks that I guess they’d use for arrows. The only man not tending to his gear was crouched over the campfire stirring a stew pot.
A meaty aroma rose from the cast iron cauldron that had been erected to prepare the evening meal. I’d seen the man drop a chunk of roast chicken into the pot, along with a few vegetables fresh from the palace pantry. He’d already distributed a chunk of trail biscuits to the rest of the Gray Hunters and Sir Galfred, but there were none left for me.
I ate a bowl of the soup as I listened to the men talking about our journey to cross Riamod’s fire land and reach Frosdar’s realm of ice. They speculated about the sort of monsters we might run into, what sort of magical weapons we might find, how cold the glaciers around Frosdar’s realm would be and more variations on the idle chatter I’d heard around Station 52. Trained professionals tended to take their downtime very seriously.
I was still hungry after the soup, so I dug into my pack and produced the heavy bundle I’d been given by the castle chef. Within the tied cloth was an assortment of dried fruits, nuts, seeds, pastries, and even a wedge of soft white cheese. The cheese was bland but creamy, with a rich fattiness that I’d never tasted in any cheese on earth. The pastries had come from the previous night’s feast, but they were still fresh enough to be absolutely delicious.
As I ate, I noticed the eyes of one of the Gray Hunters on me. No, not on me, but the food in my bundle. None of the Gray Hunters had attended the feast the night before, and though they’d doubtless eaten well, perhaps they hadn’t enjoyed some of the luxuries laid out for King Obragar’s guests.
“Want some?” I held out a small cinnamon roll with a grin. “It’s more than I can eat.” That wasn’t entirely true, as the day’s exertions had left me hungry enough to eat a horse, but food was an amazing social lubricant. The guys in Station 52 had been far friendlier after I showed up to the firehouse with a box of apple fritters from Firecake’s Donuts.
The Gray Hunter hesitated, but then he took the pastry with a grunt of gratitude. I offered the rest of my bundle around to the other men at the campfire. One actually thanked me with words, but the others grunted or simply accepted in silence. As I returned to my place, I noticed their hostility had faded. T
hey weren’t anything close to friendly, but I was starting to win them over.
Except for Grendis, it seemed. The rangy man didn’t lift his eyes from his task even when I offered him a bit of dried fruit, and I saw a hint of a sneer on his face as I moved away.
Sir Galfred accepted the last of my bundle, a handful of candied almonds, with a grateful grin. “Treats like this are hard to come by on the road. I’ve no doubt your generosity is appreciated.”
“No worries,” I told him as I rolled up the now-empty cloth and stuffed it into my pants pocket. “All that food was going to go rotten anyway, sooner or later.”
“Still, not every man would be willing to share. Hell, not even every man here would be so free with their goods.” The knight slapped my back. “You’re a good man, Ethan DePaolo of…?” He trailed off into a question and raised an eyebrow.
“Uhh,” I said and tried to think quickly, “of Grayslake.” Grayslake was a suburb in the north of Chicago, but it was the first name I could think of that sounded like it belonged in Agreon.
“I don’t think I’ve heard of Grayslake,” Sir Galfred said and his brow furrowed. “Where is it?”
“North,” I told him. It would be pretty damned hard to explain that it was north of a city on another world.
“North is drawing near Riamod’s land. I didn’t know there were settlements out there.”
“It’s where I lived most of my life,” I told him with a shrug.
“I suppose, being so near Riamod’s territory, it’s not hard to imagine you would become a fighter of fires.”
“That’s right.” I nodded quickly. The knight had just given me an easy way out.
“Tell me, Ethan DePaolo of Grayslake,” Sir Galfred said, and he narrowed his eyes and leaned close to me. “Who did you lose?”
“What?” I choked out, and I felt my eyes go wide.
“It’s in your eyes.” The knight gave me a knowing smile and rested a hand on my shoulder. “The pain of loss, the burden that you carry in memory of loved ones no longer with you. It is a burden I carry as well.”
“You mentioned your father being killed by Riamod’s fire,” I said.
“Aye.” Sir Galfred nodded slowly before turning to stare into the flickering flames of the campfire. “My father died defending Whitespire, with many of the greatest knights ever to stride Iriador. He fell trying to keep the dragon from burning down the house where my mother lay ill. They, along with more than two thousand other brave warriors, met a fiery end that night.”
“My parents died in a fire, as well.” The words came from my mouth before I realized it. I hadn’t spoken of it to anyone at Station 52, and it had been hard to talk about it even in the mandatory psychological assessments. But here, in the middle of these strange woods, the emotions bubbled to the surface. “I tried to save them…”
The words cut off as my voice cracked. Sir Galfred nodded, and I knew he understood the pain of being helpless to save his loved ones.
“Do not hide from the pain, Ethan,” the knight said in a solemn voice. “It is a part of who you are, a part of what makes you strong. You turned your loss into a calling to help others. You fight fires so you may prevent others from sharing your fate. I, too, have sought to honor my father’s sacrifice by following his footsteps as a knight. It is the memory of my parents that drives me to seek out Riamod to wreak vengeance for the lives the monster has taken.” He held up a clenched fist. “It is that desire which unites us, and it will see us triumph where so many others have failed.”
“So it is,” I said as I nodded. “We’ll get you your vengeance, Sir Galfred.”
“And you yours,” the knight said. He turned back to staring at the fire, and I did likewise. Neither of us spoke, for no words were needed. We had found our common purpose, and that would keep us going until the mission was done.
“Awww, you are making so many friends. I am proud of you, Ethan.”
“Thanks,” I thought back at Nyvea, and then I heard her giggle seductively.
“It is my watch first,” the knight said as he stood. “Please get some rest, Ethan. Tomorrow will be harder than today, as will the day after, and the day after until we finish our mission and return as heroes.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I said as I nodded at Sir Galfred. Then I returned to my sleeping roll, curled up in it, and wondered how much sleep I could get before they woke me up for the watch.
Almost as soon as I closed my eyes, I felt someone shaking my shoulder for my turn. Since there was a bunch of us, I only had to be awake for an hour, and I spent my time tip-toeing around the camp and staring into the fire. Once my shift was over, I woke up the next man, and then I quickly found my sleep.
Dawn seemed to have a different meaning to Adath. Not even the slightest hint of light appeared through the thick forest canopy when the Gray Hunter woke me. I was still groggy from the previous day of hard riding, but I followed him without complaint toward the clearing where we had sparred the previous evening. When we got there, he stabbed the butt of his torch into the ground at one side of the clearing and set about instructing me in the ways of axe combat.
He wasn’t a cruel teacher, but he had little patience for my mistakes. He held a thin branch as he walked around me, and I felt the sting of the slap on my arm, side, leg, or whatever other body part didn’t move exactly as he wanted.
The forest slowly brightened around me with the coming of dawn, but Adath kept me moving until sweat streamed down my face and soaked my tunic. My lungs burned with the effort of trying to control my breathing as I swung, blocked, and attacked with my axe. My muscles ached from the unaccustomed exertion, but I didn’t show him any sign that I was tired.
Finally, he lowered his branch and stepped back. “Not bad,” he said and gave me a slow nod of approval. “You’ve a way to go yet, but we’ll shape you into something resembling a warrior yet.”
“Thanks,” I gasped and slumped to the forest floor. My boots had ripped up the dew-covered grass and turned the dirt beneath to mud, which only added to the sweat stains on my clothing.
“We’ve got to be getting back,” he said and held out a hand. “Sir Galfred’ll be wanting to ride out at any moment.
“Awesome,” I said as I leapt to my feet. “Can we train while we ride?” I didn’t care that my leg muscles were sore. I just wanted to get better at fighting as quickly as possible.
“Great warriors are formed through hardship,” Adath told me with a grin that held more than a hint of humor at my expense. “Though I’ve known very few men quite as gluttonous for punishment as you.”
“I like working hard,” I said with a shrug. “I’m not going to be dead weight on you guys just because I’ve never fought in a battle before.”
“I think you’re doing wonderfully,” Nyvea told me as I followed Adath back to the camp. “By the time you face that dragon, you’ll have both magic and the strength and skill of those gorgeous arms on your side. The dragon won’t know what hit it.”
As Adath had predicted, Sir Galfred had already donned his armor and was busy strapping the rest of his gear in place. One of the Gray Hunters kicked dirt onto the smoldering embers of the fire while another carried the pot and cooking utensils to a nearby stream to wash. The rest were either already mounted or checking their horse’s tack one final time. My heart sank as I realized I’d have to go through the same preparations, but I had no idea how to put the horse’s bit, bridle, saddle, and all the other equipment in their proper place.
To my surprise, I found my horse saddled and ready to ride. Grendis stroked Fleetfoot’s head and spoke to him in a low, soothing voice. The horse pushed against the rangy man’s hand, clearly fond of the attention.
“Thank you, Grendis,” I said as I came up behind him.
The rangy man whirled, and anger flashed in his eyes as he stared at me. “I didn’t do it for you,” he snarled. “Sir Galfred insisted, and after watching the way you fumbled with his harness last night, I k
new there was no way we’d get riding before noon if you were left to do it yourself.”
“All the same, I appreciate it.”
“Hmph,” Grendis said and gave a grunt, then strode away. His shoulder knocked into mine as he passed, but he didn’t apologize.
I sighed. There was always one guy that proved more stubborn and harder to befriend than the others. At Station 52, it was Freeman. Here, it seemed Grendis was the holdout. The fact I’d killed one of his comrades was working against me, but I’d win him over in time.
“If they knew you like I knew you, hero, they’d love you as much as I do,” Nyvea purred.
“You always know how to cheer me up, Nyvea,” I whispered so the others wouldn’t overhear me and think I was crazy for talking to myself.
“You have no idea just how happy I could make you if you let me out of this amulet.” Her voice took on the familiar bargaining tone. “Oh, the sort of trouble we could get up to. And that would just be between the sheets.”
“Someday, Nyvea,” I said with a laugh as I pulled myself into the saddle. “For now, I need you with me to teach me everything there is to know about Iriador, dragons, and magic.”
“Aww, you’re no fun. If I didn’t like you so much, I might actually be mad that you’re keeping me locked in here.” She spoke in a salacious tone. “Lucky for you I like being nestled against your big, manly chest.”
“Comrades, friends,” Sir Galfred’s words snapped me from my silent conversation. “We know what peril lies ahead, but that knowledge should make us no less cautious. The moment we step foot in Riamod’s land, we risk encountering his minions. Fire goblins, rock trolls, hell wolves, and more. If word reaches Riamod of our presence, we will be in serious trouble. We must be wary and move with all haste to arrive in Frosdar’s land.”
“Aye,” echoed the Gray Hunters around me.
My eyes went wide. “We’re already reaching the fire land?” I asked Nyvea in a whisper.
“At the speed you were going yesterday,” she said, “you’ll arrive around noon. Trust me, you’ll know it the moment you see it.”
Dragon Slayer: A Pulp Fantasy Harem Adventure Page 11