CRY HAVOC (Jack Frey Book 1)

by Mike Morris

  The front of the canoe scraped a rock.

  "Easy, brother," shouted Brendan over the roar of the crashing waves. "Let's not sink now."

  They steered the canoe through the outcrops until they reached the base of the cliffs. Rocks jutted from the surface around them. The canoe skidded onto the stone, grounding itself. The two men threw the oilskins ashore and then jumped out.

  "Should we pull the canoe in further?" Jack asked his brother.

  "No. Leave it. It'll be smashed to bits in a minute. Best to remove all traces of us being here. We're not coming back this way," replied Brendan.

  Waves crashed around them as Jack pushed the craft back into the water with his boot. It bobbed for a few moments before the sea claimed it, turning it into splinters in seconds amongst the rocks.

  The two men clambered onto the base of the cliff. Jack felt exhausted but a two hundred foot rock face waited for him to climb. He sat down on a small ledge, clutching his oilskin to his chest. His closed his eyes as Brendan slumped down next to him.

  "Are you two going to sit there all day?" called Marcus, arriving with Jonathan. They clambered ashore, slinging their oilskins onto their backs.

  "I was thinking about it. Thought it might be a good idea for you to row us back to the boat," replied Brendan, standing. "But then I thought of the trouble you'd get into without me to look after you." He turned and tapped Jack on the shoulder. "Come on, little brother, enough resting."

  Slowly rising to his feet, Jack smiled as the group assembled on the rocks. He forced the tiredness from his mind. There was still a long day ahead of them.

  Jack scanned the rock face. The sea had made the first seven or eight feet as smooth as glass with all the constant pounding over the years. The water ran down it in a steady stream as wave after wave hurtled against it. But to the right, he saw a small ledge close to where he was standing.

  "Look," he said, pointing at it. "That looks like a good starting point. It's a bit of a jump to reach it but, once we get there, we can make our way up to the chimney to the right and straight up to the top."

  "Agreed," said Jonathan.

  "Bit nasty if we mess up the jump," replied Marcus. "Don't fancy getting mashed up by the sea and the rocks. It's probably best if you go first Jack, then one of us can catch you if you fall, eh?"

  Jack raised an eyebrow at the man. The rock they were standing on sloped back into the churning sea at the bottom of the cliff face. He certainly didn't want to go first but he also didn't want to appear weak in front of the men.

  "You up to it, lad?" asked Jonathan.

  "Yes," replied Jack. It was all he could trust himself to say. He slung his oilskin across his shoulders. He flexed his fingers, took a deep breath and jumped.

  Jack stretched as he leaped. He hooked his right hand onto the small outcrop just as he was about to fall. He felt a sudden jolt to his shoulder as gravity took hold of him but he held on, locking his fingers onto the rock. He reached up with his other arm, grabbed the edge of the ledge. But, as he did so, his right hand lost its grip. He swung for a moment, dangling by his left hand. The sea roared beneath him, threatening to pull him into its embrace. He brought his right arm back up and clawed at the edge. Each time he missed, his body swung further and Jack felt the strain in his shoulder.

  Using his body's momentum, he tried again, throwing his arm on the up swing. Two fingers caught hold but that was enough. Steadying his grip in both hands, he pulled himself onto the ledge. He looked back at the others, his body shaking.

  "You made that look easy enough. Can't wait to give it a go myself," said Marcus.

  "Anything you can do, I can do better, little brother," said Brendan and jumped. He caught the ledge at the first attempt and pulled himself up. "So much easier if you don't make a fuss, eh?"

  Typical of Brendan to make him feel small. Some things never changed.

  They threw ropes down to Marcus and Jonathan and helped them climb up.

  "Lead on," said Jonathan.

  Taking a deep breath, Jack reached for the first hold and began to climb.

  He made good progress. The hand and footholds were plentiful and Jack relaxed into the climb. He knew what he was doing when it came to climbing. Mindful not to hug the rock face, he leaned back as he scanned ahead for new holds. The secret was to use the legs more than the arms, to find secure footholds and then push upwards, using the hands only to guide and steady the rest of the body.

  The wind weaved in and around him as the sky took on a white pallor. The air itself seemed denser, reflecting the dark world he was about to enter.

  Jack slipped his hand inside the lip of the chimney and clambered into it. Wedging himself inside, he paused and smiled to himself. Half way. The chimney was narrow but comfortable enough for the men to climb inside. The fissure gave respite from the wind and, for that in itself, he was grateful. He checked on the others and saw they were making steady progress behind him.

  Jack flexed his fingers in an effort to stretch out the first signs of cramp. He looked up at the daylight at the top of the chimney and focused on that. Hooking his fingers into a small crack, he continued his ascent.

  The chimney had its own challenges. Often Jack twisted and turned his body to slip around outcroppings that intruded into the crevice. Every part of his body was quickly bruised or scratched. Slight tremors appeared in his arms and legs. He looked down at Brendan and the strain was clear on his brother's face as well.

  The space grew tighter as he climber higher. He was forced to remove the oilskin from his back and hang it below him to give himself a few more inches of room.

  Thirty feet remained. His hand dislodged some grit but he just managed to close his eyes in time before it scattered across his face.

  Twenty feet and Jack was using his toes and fingers now to crawl up the chimney. He reached down and threaded his oilskin through the space he had just traversed.

  Ten feet and fire burned through his muscles. The simplest of movements took all of his willpower. Jack tried to clear his mind and refocus energy into his body.

  It felt like he was being buried alive as each breath filled with dust. Inch by inch, he moved forward until, fresh air blew onto his face. Fighting the urge to pull himself above ground, Jack took slow breaths and listened for any sound that warned of danger above.

  All he heard was grass rustling in the wind.

  Jack raised his head over the lip of the chimney. Short grass covered a soft undulating landscape stopping only in the north at woodland. They'd have to move quickly to reach it and find cover.

  He glanced back across the sea in the direction of Abios. It would be awhile before he'd see it again. As long as he made it back. He was in enemy territory now.

  Keeping low, Jack crawled over the edge onto the grass. He quickly pulled his oilskin up, hugging it under his chin as he waited for the others to join him.

  Soon, Brendan appeared, red-faced and sweating. Then Marcus and finally Jonathan. They took up positions around Jack as they all caught their breath. He kept his eyes fixed on the treeline, looking for any danger, his heart racing.

  Jonathan pulled out his map and compass. He pointed to where they were and then indicated the direction they were heading. He gave the signal to move, pointing to the north and the wood line. The others nodded their agreement. The group rose slowly to their feet and Jonathon set off. Jack swallowed his fear and followed. The sooner they were out of the open, the better.

  22

  712 PN

  The four men stopped once they were in the woods and safe from unseen eyes. Oilskins were slipped off backs and slit open. Jack pulled his two pistols out, strapped one to his chest and the other to his right leg. On his belt was a pouch containing packets of bullets and gunpowder, easy to reach and quick to load. His sword was slung over his back and left shoulder. He placed daggers into the sheaths attached to the outside of each boot and another smaller knife went into place at the back of his belt. A stiletto was
strapped to the inside of his left arm. It was good to be armed again. They may’ve only been there on a reconnaissance mission but that didn't mean the Black Dogs weren't prepared for trouble.

  Jack tied a black bandana over his head to cover the still shaved skull of a novice, blending further into the shadows of the trees. He didn’t want a flash of white skin to give him away. He blackened his face with a small piece of charcoal from a belt pouch and pulled on gloves to cover his hands. He watched the others do the same. The Black Dogs knew their lives depended on stealth. Especially on this mission. Finally, he pulled on a small back pack that contained his food and water. Brendan winked at him as Jack jumped a couple of times to see make sure nothing was loose or rattling. Sound could betray you just as easily. Over the years, Master Snow had drummed into him the things that give away a soldier’s position; the sound of a man moving, the shape of a human body amongst the randomness of nature, the body's silhouette against the skyline, the smell of something that didn't belong in the environment and the shine of sun or moonlight against skin or metal. Everything had to be considered. Carelessness could kill them all.

  Standing amongst the determined faces of the men with him, all armed to the teeth, Jack felt ready for anything as long as he had these men by his side.

  "Okay lads," whispered Jonathan, crouching over the map. His finger traced key points. "We're here. We've got to get to this point by dark, find a spot to hunker down for the night and then, at first light, we can study the castle. It's about an eleven mile hike through woodland so we need to move fast but carefully. It's good cover so we should have limited exposure to any hostiles but we still stay alert at all times. Everyone clear?"

  "Yes boss," said Marcus. Brendan and Jack nodded in agreement.

  "If we see the enemy, we don’t engage. I repeat, we don’t engage. Just get your heads down and let them pass. If we have contact, we deal with it quick and aggressively. But only do as much as we need so we can the fuck out of it. We’re not here to fight a war.

  “We'll mark meeting points as we move closer so we can fall back to the nearest one if things get out of hand, regroup and make our way to the extraction point. The boat's going to be waiting for us at dawn every day for the next five days so we're not going to be left hanging if we do end up to our necks in shit. Where we are now is meeting point one."

  Jack looked around, memorizing the landscape. He touched the circle hanging beneath his shirt and reassured himself that God was with them. He could do this. Just watch and learn. He wouldn’t even need to draw his sword.

  "Now if you lovely lads are ready," continued Jonathan, "let's head out in single file. Marcus, take point. Brendan, follow at the rear. Me and the kid will be in the middle. Now lets move it."

  The priests set off twenty yards apart from each other. Individual men, well spread out, were harder to see and made less noise than a tight packed group. The spacing also helped them be less vulnerable to attack. If one man were targeted, the others would either be able to help or escape. Another one of Master Snow's lessons, which his students learned well.

  Birds sang overhead and a rabbit paused to watch the men pass for a moment before bouncing on its way. Jack wasn't sure what he'd been expecting the Middle Kingdoms to be like, but it wasn't this. It all seemed so normal. The priests could've been on exercise in the forests near Whitehaven for all the similarities there were. It certainly wasn't an apocalyptic wasteland.

  For three hours the men made their way north, stopping only occasionally out of caution but moving on when no danger materialized. The sun tracked their movement, climbing high in the sky, bringing some early morning warmth to the day. Jack watched Jonathan in front of him and constantly checked that Brendan followed, all the while scanning the woodland to his right and left for anything that could put the group at risk.

  Despite the situation there was serenity to the woods that, under different circumstances, Jack would've enjoyed. The trees had been there before the demons and they’d outlast them. They'd born witness to the madness of the world but they were still as pure as God designed them.

  He moved from trunk to trunk, lifting his feet to make as little noise as possible and settled

  into the routine of a patrol. The others seemed at ease with the mission and all was going according to plan so far. This is what he'd spent so long training to do.

  The ground dipped down and Marcus led them to a river flowing through the heart of the valley. They made faster time on the slightly flatter ground as they followed its twists and turns.

  On several occasions, Marcus dropped to one knee and motioned with his hand for the team to take cover when something caught his eye. The moment he saw the signal, Jack dropped to the ground, facing the team's right flank. Jonathan covered the left side while his brother looked after their rear. Jack scanned the woods for whatever may have caught Marcus's attention. He checked for anything that was out of place or a sudden movement. His ears strained to hear the breaking of a twig or the movement of an enemy. But each time, it proved to be a false alarm. There were no complaints though. No one had ever died from being too careful.

  At midday, Marcus moved the team back deeper into the woods, looking for a place to rest and eat. He found a small hollow, protected on one side by a fallen tree and, on the other side, by raised ground scattered with bushes. After the team entered, they took cover to watch the ground around them, again making sure that they were not being followed or at risk from an unseen foe.

  Five minutes passed before Jonathan was satisfied that they were not in any danger. He sat up, slipping his backpack off.

  "This is Meeting Point Two. If we get into any trouble, we regroup here. We're doing good time so let's take thirty minutes to get some food and water inside us before we do the last slog to the target. Keep your eyes open while you eat. You never know what could pop up if you're not looking. Keep your kit close to hand in case we need to scarper."

  Brendan smiled at Jack as they unwrapped rations. "Still alive then, little brother?"

  Jack crunched down on a piece of dried beef. "Still alive," he replied, grateful for the rest. He felt exhausted. Training wasn’t like the real thing. There was a mental aspect to being on a live mission that was not replicated in any training scenario he had undergone at Whitehaven. In training a mistake earned a rebuke, but any slip-ups now would have grave consequences. In the field, you couldn’t afford to switch off or let your mind wander. And he’d five days and nights to go.

  Soon enough, a tap on the shoulder told him it was time to move. Again Marcus led the way as the group marched onto to Grosnar.

  An hour into the next leg, the signal came down the line indicating a building ahead. When the pace didn't drop, Jack thought he might have misread the sign from Jonathan. Then he saw a stone column poking out from some bushes. Vines crawled their way up it, making it hard to see at first but it was definitely manmade. As they moved on, more structures appeared. It was a village long forgotten and abandoned. Judging by the amount of houses, some fifty people could have lived there. It was a good spot too, with the river and the woodland game. Plenty to sustain a small community. Now, only ghosts remained to watch the Black Dogs pass.

  Something crunched under Jack's foot. He looked down and saw a child's rib cage hidden amongst the weeds and grass. The rest of the skeleton lay nearby, black with age. His eyes picked out other bones scattered around. It wasn't hard to imagine Brixteth in similar ruin if the Nostros ever crossed the ocean.

  The sun continued to track them across the sky as the ground began to climb upwards again. Jack’s tired legs pushed on. The group turned northwest, heading towards the ocean again. His pulse quickened in anticipation. Through the trees, he could see the castle in the distance.

  Marcus dropped to one knee ahead and signaled for the patrol to come in together.

  "Grosnar's about one mile away," he said as the men lay in position, indicating the direction.

  "Good work, Marcus," said
Jonathan. "This spot is the final Meeting Point. Marcus and Brendan stay here. Me and the kid will scout ahead, make sure everything is in the right place and then we'll come back here. We’ll lay up for the night before doing a full patrol of the place tomorrow. All clear?"

  "Aye boss," replied the others.

  "Leave your kit here, Jack," said Marcus. "We travel light from now on."

  Jack nodded. He wished he could’ve stayed at the camp and rested but there was no way he could turn Jonathan down. He slipped his kit bag off his shoulders, and took a glug of water.

  Brendan squeezed his shoulder. “It’s a walk in the park.”

  The two men moved slowly through the trees, watching each footfall so they didn’t disturb anything or make any unnecessary noise.

  The cover began to thin out as they reached the top of the rise. The men sank lower to the ground, moving at a crouch. Sunlight met the edge of the tree line and the priests exchanged glances. They crawled the last few yards. And then, there it was.

  Grosnar. A Nostros stronghold. It looked nothing like Jack had imagined. It erupted out of the cliff face, making it impossible to tell where one started and the other ended. Towers twisted up into the sky, connected by bridges and walkways — all leading to a large central tower at the heart of the fortress.

  High walls surrounded Grosnar on the land side. Along the battlements, the sunshine glistened off the weapons and armor of human sentries. Jack started to count how many soldiers there were but gave up after thirty. The wall was well-manned and, considering the size of Grosnar, it could easily hold an army inside its walls. To the east, there was a field of white but Jack had no idea what could be growing there to create that color.

  At the bottom of the cliffs was a natural harbor, embraced by the sea wall the Abbot had asked them to check, with a small channel for ships to enter and exit but blocking off any view from the sea of what lay within. However, from their position, Jonathan and Jack had no such obstacles in their way.