by Kal Spriggs
She heard Cederic respond after a moment, “I can do that and more. I know runes to strengthen the gate itself and ward it against damage. Though I'm surprised you've installed machinery, what with the number of people you have here, you could close the gates by muscle power, I'd guess.”
Samen nodded, “We could, but we're making an army, and armies aren't meant to stay behind gates, they're meant to go out and fight.” He looked over to Katarina. “We've moved all of our dependents here. Some of Hector's mercenaries came through not long after you left and a lot of us felt safer with our families someplace secure. A lot of the more recent arrivals showed up with their families in tow.”
Katarina nodded, that made sense. She hadn't felt entirely comfortable with the earlier situation, with the children and elders scattered about the Ryft Peaks with various mountain families. Still, having them all in one place made them vulnerable in a different way, she knew, a larger target, but easier to defend.
They walked past the drill area and Katarina heard Bulmor grunt in satisfaction behind her. “Working them hard, I see,” he said. Katarina watched as several sections marched on one another in mock combat. Further away, another section worked together to push a heavily-laden cart up a slope. Teaches them strength and how to work together, she thought.
“Yes,” Jasen said. “We're working them hard, but we don't have any slackers. They're all volunteers, dedicated to the cause.” The tone of his voice had a sharp edge, almost a note of challenge, she thought.
“Well,” Katarina said, “We'll soon have a task worthy of them.”
She could see both Samen and Jasen perk up at that. Samen stepped up the pace a bit as they drew nearer the wall of the canyon. Before, she had been impressed by the stone buildings carved into the rock of the canyon. Now, she was impressed by the changes wrought there as well. Gone were the simple cloth or leather doors, replaced by sturdy wood doors, and most of the stone windows had wooden shutters as well. Where before their entire group had lived in only a handful of the old buildings, now she saw signs of occupation in almost all of them. The canyon had become a veritable city and she wondered if it would stay secret from their enemies for much longer. If they haven't learned of it already, she thought cautiously.
Still, with the gate in place, the valley was a hardy fortress. Various paths led to overlooks of the only approach and the archery skills of the defenders would take a wicked toll upon any attacker. More, with the steep canyon walls, any attacker would have no choice but to batter the gates down as the only viable entry. Given the sturdy construction, that would not be easy. They had both adequate wells and a flowing stream for water supplies. The main issue, she knew, would be how long supplies could hold out for so large a population. I wonder why this place was abandoned, she thought to herself, clearly the locals knew of it, but I've seen no record of this place. Given time, she would have liked to investigate more, but something had always come up. Whatever lay deeper in the valley, the locals seemed secure enough of their defenses.
As they came up on the building they had used as their headquarters, Samen paused and nodded at Bulmor, “Armsman.”
Bulmor gave him a slight nod in return and Katarina didn't miss how Bulmor's gaze went to Eleanor who gave him a nod in return. Katarina restrained a sigh as her armsman went forward to search the building. She knew his paranoia had kept her alive, but it still seemed silly for him to search this place as thoroughly as anywhere else. Then again, she thought, if Hector's forces do know where this place is, they might save themselves the effort of a siege by sending assassins.
She waited patiently while Bulmor and Gerlin swept the building. Eleanor moved up to stand next to her and spoke, “How's your boy, Samen?”
“Growing,” Samen answered proudly. “A good eye, too, and I've given him an adult bow, since he outgrew his smaller one. How's your son?”
Katarina felt her own expression congeal a bit as silence met his question. Finally, Eleanor answered, “He's missing, but I hope he'll turn up.” The strain in her voice was obvious and Katarina felt tears well up in her eyes.
“Ah,” Samen said. “My condolences.”
“We'll discuss that and other recent events once we get inside,” Katarina said softly.
Bulmor came back out a moment later, “Clear.”
Katarina followed him inside. She saw that the rooms had some furnishings, much of it built recently. The cold stone floors held tanned hides from animals hunted to feed the growing army, she suspected.
Samen led the way into the conference room. Katarina saw with surprise that one entire wall now held a map, drawn onto wood panels. It lacked detail, but it showed almost the entirety of the Duchy of Masov, with metal pins showing positions of forces and cards with unit names and numbers. Katarina walked forward and read the card for the Ryftguard. It matched what Admiral Tarken's people had spoken of, with two companies of Hector's personal troops, each a hundred strong, and it had a date, she noted, to show when the observation had been made. She looked over at Jasen, “Your work?” Jasen had served as a sergeant in her father's army, years ago, but his experience had proven useful so far.
“No, ma'am,” Jasen replied. “I've no head for the more complex stuff like that. Innkeeper Solis thought it up, said it would be a good way to figure out where the Usurper was weakest.”
“Good work,” Katarina said. “This is exactly the kind of ideas we need.” She had seen more complicated maps, indeed, Boir's Ducal Navy had their Signifiers, mirrors which could show images of land and sea and show locations of forces with updates from other Signifiers. But this was more than equal to their current endeavors and the attention to detail suggested that someone had interviewed every one of their recruits to put together such a picture.
Solis stood a bit taller, “Thank you, my Lady. It was a time consuming work. My daughter, Kara, did much of it. She said that interviewing our recruits would be a good way to screen for spies... even caught one when what he told her didn't match what some others had said.”
“Caught one, you say?” Arren Smith asked eagerly. “Alive?” His old voice almost broke with excitement. Katarina didn't doubt the old man would come up with a number of devious ideas to suit the situation.
“Yeah, though he might wish otherwise, right now,” Jasen said sharply. “There's few enough in this camp that can stomach a mercenary who serves the Usurper for pay, fewer still that will do the same for a man who skulks in the shadows. We've got him locked up in a cellar, guarded too.”
“Good,” Katarina nodded. “And a very good job to your daughter, as well. I think we can probably bring her into our further strategy sessions, especially since I suspect she'll have the best picture of how our enemies are arrayed.”
She looked down at the conference table, the same rough-hewn surface that she remembered from their previous meetings. It seemed almost incongruous, to her, that so much else had changed and yet they still hadn't sanded the rough edges off of it. Priorities, she reminded herself, and these are rough-hewn men and women, hard as the mountains they come from, what do they care for a few splinters?
“As far as our shortages,” Katarina said, “We have not returned empty-handed... though I'm afraid we have lost a great many good people in the process,” her voice broke a bit at that, reminded of the death of Aerion and the losses of over half the people who had followed her. “We have also secured a great victory against the Norics of these mountains, by Gerlin and Arren's estimates, we've killed almost three quarters of their numbers and we also destroyed an Armen force of almost five thousand, along with a heavy company of Lord Hector's mercenaries.”
Silence met her statement and she gestured for Nakkiki to place the heavy chest he carried onto the table. With a bit of a flourish, she threw the lid back. “As you can see, funding we now have. We've also a store of lighter coins, mostly silver, to pay our soldiers. We've secured a good-sized arsenal of both runic and normal weapons.”
She waited as the othe
rs took in all the implications. “What we've discussed so far is keeping the runic weapons and armor within a single section of our most skilled fighters, to act as either our reserve or our shock troops.” She nodded at where Bulmor stood, “My armsman and Master Arren will train the men and women selected for that duty and Master Cederic has inventoried those items well enough that we can organize around their uses.”
“Now, then, ladies and gentlemen,” Katarina said, “since you have been busy here preparing for war, I can say that your preparations will be put to good use. Our goal is to strike a blow that Lord Hector will not be able to discount, that he must respond with either a truce or treaty... or to at the least take us seriously. To that end, we will begin preparations to seize the fortress of Ryftguard.”
She smiled a bit at the looks of shock on the faces of those who had not gone to Southwatch with her. “Trust me, this will be easy in comparison to what we have already accomplished.”
***
Quinn Makelsen
The Hidden Valley, Duchy of Masov
7th of Agmat, Cycle 1000 Post Sundering
Quinn shook his head tiredly as he looked over at the drill master. Jasen was one of the old hands, but he hadn't cut any of them any slack, right up until he called them to a break. Quinn knew that he was one of the weakest as far as weapon skill and so he had drawn the most attention. It didn't help that his wound still bothered him, where a Noric raider had pierced his shoulder with a spear thrust. Even Arren's bit of healing magic hadn't been enough to completely heal the injury and Quinn's ability to block had become noticeably slower. The pain, too was brutal, and he knew that while the others looked relatively fit, his own breath came in ragged breaths and sweat beaded his brow.
I wish this came to me as easily as it did to Aerion, Quinn thought sourly. He had been a little jealous of the extra attention that the big young man had drawn from their instructors. But if anything, the boy's humility and good nature had robbed him of any spite. At least I handle my liquor better than him, he thought with a slight smile.
“Quinn, is that you?” he heard a woman's voice behind him. Quinn turned quickly and saw Kara, Solis's daughter. “I've been looking all over for Josef, have you seen him?” Quinn felt his face go hard and he opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn't get any words out. He saw, right away, that she understood what he hadn't said. The tall woman's face went pale. “No, are you certain, absolutely certain?”
Quinn nodded slowly, “Aerion and Arren found him.” He met her blue eyes and spoke impulsively, “They told me his last words were of you.”
She looked away and put a hand through her curly, light brown hair. He saw tears in her eyes and he cursed himself for not finding a way to break it to her better... and for not seeking her out in the first place. He had known that she and Josef had shared one another's company, but he was too absorbed in his own problems to think of her. “I'm sorry,” he said, finally.
Her lips formed in a harsh, flat line, “One more thing to lay at the feet of the Usurper, the bastard.” She spat to the side, “Tell me, was it the Norics, the Armen, or those mercenaries?”
“I'm not certain,” Quinn said. “Miss Eleanor was there when it happened, I think, and Master Arren as well.”
“Right,” Kara nodded. “Well, thank you, Quinn.” Her voice was dead, though, leached of all hope and any emotion, as hollow and empty as the holes that Josef had left in their lives. She turned and walked away and Quinn didn't stop her.
“Right then, who are you?” Quinn heard surprise in Jasen's voice. When Quinn turned, he saw Nakkiki stood at the edge of the training area. The huge, tan-skinned man stared at them all for a long moment without response. Jasen walked up to him and spoke, “Well, then, who are you?”
Quinn stepped forward quickly, “Sergeant, he's Nakkiki, he's a foreigner from an island to the far south, he doesn't speak the language.” Quinn had actually found a sailor who knew a few words of the big man's tongue, just enough to get simple concepts across. He hadn't found the time to learn more than that and the huge man seemed fine with following them for now.
“Why is he here?” Jasen asked, clearly irritated by the mountainous young man. Nakkiki was imposing, but friendly as ever with a broad smile on his fat face. The islander had a bulky, imposing frame with plenty of hard muscle under the rolls of fat. His round, jolly face could be very expressive, turning from friendly to angry in a fashion that left no doubt about his feelings.
“He's a good fighter, sergeant,” Quinn said quickly. “I think he's interested in learning how we fight.”
“Hah,” a voice spoke up nearby. “Fat fellow like that probably is too slow to fight well and obviously too stupid to speak a civilized tongue.” Quinn turned and found that another man, one of those who had assisted Jasen in drilling them, had come up behind him. “And you, recruit, should get back into formation. We didn't call you forward.” His sneering tone clearly penetrated the language barrier, because Quinn saw the smile on Nakkiki's face vanish and his easy stance had shifted from relaxed to tense.
“It's fine, Benedykt,” Jasen said, “Quinn's got a good head on him and he knew the information I wanted to know.”
Benedykt stepped forward a genial smile on his face. He walked up close to Jasen, without a glance at Quinn, and spoke, “Look, Jasen, I know you're technically in charge here, but you were a sergeant. I was a captain. I think we both know that, once Lady Katarina appoints officers, I'll be the one in charge. The recruit here is out of line and his fat friend should ditch his skirt and get in formation for some drill.”
Quinn felt his face harden, “Nakkiki here fought at the side of Lady Katarina against the Norics and Armen at Southwatch. I've fought for her since the Tucola Forest, who exactly are you calling a recruit?”
The other man didn't even look over at Quinn, but he swung a backhand at him. Quinn saw it coming, but he was too shocked to react. The blow caught him in the side of the head and knocked him from his feet. Quinn stared up at Benedykt, his head ringing.
“That,” Benedykt growled, “is for speaking up to a superior. Be grateful we aren't under orders yet, or I'd have you flogged, you insolent little shit–”
A looming figure stepped between them and Benedykt's voice cut off in a squeak.
Quinn stumbled to his feet, “Nakkiki, wait!”
The big man looked over his shoulder. Quinn could see that he held Benedykt by the throat in one hand, arm fully extended. Benedykt's feet kicked at the open air and his hands struggled with the massive arm that held him. Nakkiki's arm didn't so much as tremble and Benedykt couldn't find purchase on the big man's skin with his fingers.
Quinn struggled to remember the handful of words that the Boir sailor had taught him. He spoke haltingly and after a moment Nakkiki cocked his head and rumbled something in his native tongue that sounded like mostly vowels.
“What did you say?” Jasen asked.
“Uh, that Benedykt is the son of a chief and that we'll have issues if he kills him out of hand,” Quinn said. Well, either that or that we need to kill him in ceremony, he thought, I'm really not sure. Still, the fact that Nakkiki hadn't killed the other man boded well. During the fight at Southwatch, Quinn had seen him throttle a pair of Norics in either hand, before throwing them into their companions as improvised weapons.
Nakkiki slowly lowered Benedykt to the ground and released him. Benedykt stumbled back, his face almost purple as he gasped for air. As he finally caught his breath, he wheezed, “I'll have you both lashed for this...”
“No,” Jasen growled, “You won't. Quinn might have spoken up before me, but that doesn't mean he's wrong. He is not our most skilled fighter, but he has proven himself in Lady Katarina's service... you have not. Whatever your former rank, you are not an officer, not unless Lady Katarina makes you one. And since she's asked me directly for recommendations, I don't think she will be doing that, especially not after how you've treated two men that she trusts.”
Benedy
kt stared at Jasen for a long moment, “You'll regret that. And I'm a far better soldier than any man here, with far more experience. I challenge you to find anyone who can take me on in a fair fight!”
For all that Nakkiki didn't seem to understand most of what they said, the big man seemed to recognize the word challenge. He picked up his club and stepped forward, his deep voice rumbled a long series of vowels with the occasional consonant thrown in. Quinn struggled to keep up and make sense of the lot. “He says that he is Nakkiki, uh, firestriker? Son of... I think he says... Nilues, yeah, the Spirit of Fire.” Quinn listened a bit to what sounded like a long series of titles. “Uh, the gist of it is, he's the son of a king of his people, I think, and that he accepts your challenge. A fight to the death, I think.”
“What?” Benedykt said. “That's absurd!”
“You did just challenge any man here to take you on,” Quinn said helpfully.
“No fighting, no duels,” Jasen said. Quinn was close enough that he heard him mutter, “Even though I'd love to see it.” He looked at Quinn, “Tell him that.”
Quinn struggled for a moment and finally said a few words to the other man, though he changed it to: 'by orders of Lady Katarina.' He struggled a bit until he finally substituted the word princess for lady and Nakkiki finally gave a slow nod and lowered his club. He rumbled something at Quinn who wiped at his face and shrugged.
“So, what did he say?” Jasen asked.
“Well, he insists that this, uh, poorly endowed warrior must face him or lose all honor,” Quinn said with a glance at Benedykt. The former officer flushed and opened his mouth, but Quinn continued, “He says that he will go to Lady Katarina and make his case.”
Jasen sighed, “Fine. That's just fine. Then he's her problem. That's why she's in charge.” He shook his head and glanced at Benedykt. “You better hope that she doesn't like him as much as I've heard.” While Quinn didn't like to think of himself as particularly spiteful, the sudden paleness of Benedykt's face was quite gratifying. “Quinn, you take the fellow up there, best to resolve this as soon as possible.”