Rawk’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the corpse again. “Really?”
“I worked with them a few times over in Januze.”
“I thought they were supposed to be good.”
Fabi shrugged. “Last I knew they’d taken heavy losses at Crypen. Maybe they hadn’t really recovered.”
Red Raven gave a bark of laugher as he joined them. “I imagine this will set them back a bit as well.”
Rawk looked around the square. There was a layer of corpses with hardly room to spare for walking between. Unfortunately, many were locals. Not far away, tangled amongst the dead, were a couple of men that Rawk had fought with earlier, including the dwarf who’d been hit with the shield. Perhaps if they’d been able to help him sooner...
They’d been close to overrunning the enemy, then Vanoof’s Cohort had come. And more locals. It had turned into a major battle. “We can’t keep doing this. We might win, but the city won’t survive anyway.”
“Katamood will survive,” Red Raven said. “But perhaps it will not be the city we knew.”
Rawk didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. He’d come to appreciate the city even more recently, but mainly the parts that endured in spite of Weaver’s attention. He sighed. “I don’t care how many more mercenaries there are around here, I need to sleep.” People had come to care for the wounded again. And they could do a better job than he could. Again. “Come on. You too.”
Red Raven looked surprised. “Me?”
“Yes, you.”
So Rawk led Fabi, Frazen and the elf up the hill, all the while wishing Thacker would move his head quarters closer.
A lifetime later, they stepped into the Burning Tree and looked around. There were a few people there, from a few different races, but it was as quiet as a church. And Thacker and his advisors were nowhere to be seen.
“Maybe Thacker already left,” Fabi said, running his fingers through his beard, trying to remove the tangles.
Frazen grunted and Rawk said, “I don’t think I can make it all the way up to Caldera without some food.”
His companions didn’t complain when he headed towards an empty table down in the back corner. He sat down and closed his eyes. The chairs scraping across the rough wood floor seemed very loud.
It had been a long night and a long day that followed. He’d managed to get some sleep, but it wasn’t enough. And he doubted he’d be getting enough sleep anytime in the next few days.
“Hello, Rawk.”
Rawk opened his eyes and looked at the woman. For a moment he wondered if he knew her. Or perhaps she was just someone who thought he was their friend because they knew his name. Then he realized it was a serving woman. “Hello.”
“Would you like an ale?”
“Yes, thank you. Four ales.”
She started to walk away.
“Wait.”
“Yes?”
“I don’t like ale.”
She narrowed her eyes, as if he’d said he didn’t like breathing. “You don’t like ale?”
“No. I never have.”
“Then why...”
“Because that’s what Heroes do.”
“I thought Heroes did whatever they wanted.”
Rawk laughed. But he didn’t know if he was laughing at her naivety or his own. “Can I have some apple cider, please? Three ales and a cider. And four meals.”
“Very well.”
He watched her go and when he turned back, discovered Clinker was standing by his table. “Are you still sleeping on the street?”
The lad shrugged. “Sometimes. Sometimes I sleep in Kristun’s workshop. Why?”
“You have a new blanket I gather? Well, we need to get it out of your satchel so you can’t sneak up on me.”
Clinker smiled. “But maybe I need it for sneaking up on other people.”
“Like who?”
He shrugged. “Prince Weaver.”
“You don’t go anywhere near Weaver, do you hear me.”
“Why not?”
“His spies probably saw the two of us talking. If not, you’re a dwarf, and that is more than enough reason for him to hate you.”
“How would I get near Prince Weaver?”
“I don’t know. Have you had anything to eat?” Rawk got his knife and fork out of his belt pouch, tested the edge of the knife, and set them down on the table.
“Not today. Nobody’s got time to organize food.”
“Sit down then.”
Clinker pulled a chair over from another table as Red Raven and Fabi made room for him.
“So you do a lot of work with Kristun?”
“Some. He helped me with my wall cleaner so I helped him with some other stuff. I sweep his floor— just with a normal broom— and fetch things for him.”
“And has Thacker offered you a job yet?”
“He gives me work sometimes. But things have been busy lately, so I don’t think he’s really thinking about things like that.”
“Fair enough, I suppose. You really shouldn’t be this far down the hill though; it isn’t safe.”
“Nowhere is safe.”
“Well...”
Keegen entered the tavern and looked around. He spotted Rawk and, after a moment, sauntered over. “How goes it?”
“It goes well enough. We’ve made it through the day.” Rawk sighed, looking around at his companions. There were a good many people who hadn’t. A good many good people.
“And you?” Franzen asked.
Keegen nodded. “Well enough. We almost lost Long Bridge this morning.”
“I heard.”
“Londa held back the reserves too long. We got lucky, otherwise we would have been overrun before they got there.”
“I thought he was promising.”
“Me too. Now he’s off sulking somewhere. We can’t even find him.”
“He’ll learn. Leading soldiers, whatever the sort, is different to fighting a few wolden wolves. I was down at the South River Watch.” Rawk told him about the battle. “I reckon there must be a few men in that tower if they are willing to send that many try to break them free,” he finished.
“Maybe it isn’t about how many. Maybe it’s about a particular person.”
“Like who?”
“How should I know?” He shrugged. “All I can say is thank Path for the river. It’s the only thing saving us at the moment, I think.”
Rawk agreed. He thanked the waitress when the food came and ordered another two bowls, one for himself and one for Keegen, as he slid the one intended for him across to Clinker. The boy started eating straight away.
“So how did you get across the river this morning anyway?” Rawk divided his glance between Franzen and Keegen.
The former gestured vaguely. “We went up the river a couple of miles and borrowed a boat. Then we just walked back.”
“Nobody tried to stop you?”
“There was a boy with a wooden sword,” Keegen said. “We gave him a few ithel and he let us pass.”
“Traitor.” The extra food came and Rawk started to eat. “So, have you seen any of the others? Our army of heroes?”
“Frew and Graft were down at the bridge this morning. Cox and Donovan found some mercs holed up in a warehouse and almost had to burn them out.”
“That wouldn’t have been a very good idea.”
“I know. Neither of them are the sharpest knife. Luckily Taffy was there. She did something or other...” He waved his hands as if that would explain the sorcerer’s actions... “And they all came pouring out soon enough.”
Rawk nodded. “Good. Maybe there’s hope after all.”
“Hope for the fight, or hope for Heroes and sorcerers?”
“Right now, they probably go hand in hand.” With a sigh, Rawk cleaned off his spoon. “I need to sleep,” he said. He didn’t know if it was going to happen, but if he stayed where he was it most certainly wouldn’t.
Faraday
Rawk woke with a start. Bl
inking and looking around, it took him a moment to work out exactly where he was. He wondered if he could go back to sleep and wake up in another life, but eventually stood up and stretched his back. It didn’t help.
“I was beginning to wonder if you were going to sleep through the rest of the day,” Sylvia said. She was sitting in the corner of the room with a cup of tea.
“Is that something you can arrange?”
The elf gave a small smile. “Perhaps, but I am not sure if anyone else around here would be thrilled with you missing the excitement.”
Rawk grunted. Fighting beside Red Raven the night before, he’d come to the conclusion that there were people around here who were better suited to the task than he was. He said as much to Sylvia.
“It is as much about your presence as your skills, Rawk. You started this fight, so they need you there.”
“I did not start it. Weaver has been bringing in mercenaries for weeks. We were still friends then.”
“Well, perhaps you did not start it, but you certainly brought it forward.”
“And where is everyone else?” He looked around, as if he might have missed them sitting in the corner. He was in a meeting room located near Thacker’s office. He remembered reporting in there after the battle to take the South River Tower and his late dinner. He remembered talking with Thacker and his leadership team. He couldn’t really remember the details though, and he’d fallen asleep before the meeting ended.
“They went for breakfast.”
Breakfast sounded good. But first... “So...”
“Yes?”
“Well, Weaver knows you’re here and any of his followers will kill you on sight.”
“Are you trying to comfort me?”
“No. It’s just that there’s nothing stopping you from doing magic.”
The elf narrowed her eyes.
“Could you fix my knee? I’m rubbing on the cream every day. Well, most days. Some days. Look, I’ve been pretty busy. But it just hurts constantly.”
Sylvia sighed and shifted in her chair. She looked down at her book for a moment. “I have a confession to make, Rawk.”
It was Rawk’s turn to narrow his eyes.
“I can no longer do magic.”
“Pardon? What?”
She cleared her throat. “I have lost my ability to do magic. Well, anything other than the most basic of spells.”
“After the Quod?”
“No, before that. Years ago.”
“But I saw you kill Balen.”
“Yes, you did. But I did not do it with magic.”
“He was on the other side of the room. There was thunder. There was...”
Sylvia picked up a bag from the floor by her side. She looked inside then carefully pulled out a...
“What is it?”
“Kristun calls it a pistol.”
It was made of timber and metal but that was about the only thing that was obvious about it.
“What does it do?”
“It kills people from the other side of the room. I thought we established that.”
“Do you throw it?” He didn’t take it but it looked heavy enough that it would certainly hurt, but he wouldn’t rely on it killing someone, even if they did stand in the one spot and let themselves be hit.
“You have heard and seen the explosions that the dwarves use while building the canal?”
Rawk nodded.
“Well, the pistol uses a smaller explosion to propel a lead ball fast enough to kill.”
“So that thing throws a lead ball at people?”
“Yes. Very quickly.” She held the thing out for Rawk to take.
Rawk wasn’t sure he wanted to take it though. But she kept holding it out, so he crossed the room and carefully took it from her hand.
“It will not harm you.”
“But...”
“It is loaded, but remains uncocked.”
“What does that mean?”
“The ball and the powder are in place, but there is a lever that needs to be pulled back before anything can possibly happen. And another lever after that, under normal circumstances.”
Rawk still wasn’t sure, but he looked at the contraption, turning it in his hand. It was heavy, and beautiful, but it was still hard to believe it could kill someone. He handed it back to her. “So you didn’t use magic to kill Balen? You used that thing?”
“That is correct.”
“What about Queel?”
Sylvia winced. “I threw acid in his face.”
That sounded slightly… brutal. “You’ve been lying to me?”
The sorcerer looked at her hands.
“I can understand at the start, but after that...”
“Perhaps I was lying to myself as well, Rawk. Do you think I like my weakness? Once I could raze buildings and heal torn flesh. Now I can light a candle with magic, but it hurts. I can boil water, but I must rest for hours afterwards.”
“But you let me go into a room full of sorcerers.”
“I attempted to stop you.”
“You let me... Well, yes, but still.”
“Let us talk about lies, Rawk. When did you hurt your knee? When you fought the wolden wolf or before that?”
Rawk cleared his throat. “It wasn’t a wolden wolf. It was a little girl’s pet.”
“How many people know about the aches and pains you live with every day? Is it just me?”
“No. There are lots of others.”
“Travis hardly counts.”
“There’s also—”
“Celeste and Grint do not count either.” When he opened his mouth to speak she held up her hand. “And if you are about to say Juskin, then I do not believe you.”
Rawk looked around the room again. “Where is Juskin? Did he make it?”
“Are you changing the subject? Yes, Juskin arrived safely not long after you left with the militia.”
“And Demon?”
“The kitten is also safe. I believe he is in the care of Clinker at the moment.”
Before Rawk could change the subject some more, the door opened and Rake hurried into the room. “Good, your awake.”
“Yes. I haven’t had breakfast though.”
“We can organize something, but it will have to be after the meeting.”
“What meeting?”
Another dwarf came in. Then some humans. And Red Raven. Soon the room was filling with people and Rawk found a seat along the wall before they all filled up.
When Thacker eventually entered the room, Rawk wondered if he should stand up and salute. In the end he stayed seated, too tired to even give the idea too much thought. Lots of other people, mainly dwarves, seemed keen to do so now that he was in charge of an army, makeshift though it was.
Thacker slumped into his chair at the head of the conference table. “We think we just cleared the last of the mercenary units from south of the canal.”
“How many are between the canal and the river?” Gannon asked. He was an experienced human soldier, but he was so old that he may well have been retired for the last thirty years.
Thacker winced. “About three hundred died at the South River Watch,” he glanced at Rawk. “They were good, experienced units and we did well to get them as we did.”
“You seem to be avoiding the question, Thacker,” Fabi said. His arm was bandaged but his beard was still messy enough to have a squirrel and a couple of birds living in it.
“Perhaps.” He checked a sheet of paper, though Rawk doubted he really needed to. “We estimate there are about a thousand left.”
Rawk groaned. “How many people did we lose at the Watch?”
“About four hundred.”
Rawk shook his head. The militia had outnumbered the mercenaries by a good amount and still it had been touch and go several times. And all they had done was clear the square— they hadn’t actually taken the tower. “We can’t keep doing that; it isn’t acceptable. These aren’t professional soldiers. They are people who
need to go home to their families.”
“You don’t need to tell me that, Rawk,” Thacker said angrily before getting a hold of himself. He rose to his feet and paced to the window and back. “We’re working on some things.”
“Like what?”
“We have some engineers and whatnot coming. They shouldn’t be long, hopefully.”
“And are the bridges secure? That thousand could turn into five thousand very quickly.”
“We have men at the bridges and they are ready to demolish them if required.”
“And how long will that take?”
“About a minute.”
Rawk raised an eyebrow but remembered the weapon Sylvia had shown him and the explosions that were gouging the canal through the rock.
A minute later Kristun ga Meyer hurried into the room, arms full of a lopsided stack of dirty, dog-eared papers. “Sorry I’m late.” He looked up and suddenly seemed overwhelmed by all the eyes on him, as if he was expecting to be meeting with just Thacker. A few more dwarves, with satchels and papers and boxes, came in behind him and looked just as surprised.
“Not to worry, Kristun. Just give us some good news.”
“Right. Yes. I’ll go first, shall I?” He looked back at the dwarves that had come with him. He cleared his throat. “Well, I’ve been working on some designs for small, mobile siege engines recently that should be useful.” He shuffled through his pages and pulled out a diagram of a strange machine. “I have a couple ready to go in my workshop and one smith and one carpenter could probably make one a day.”
Thacker nodded. “I’m sure we can spare more people than that. Do they work?”
“I’ve done some testing. No problems so far. I’ve done about fifty tests with one of them. The range is only about fifty yards with scatter-shot but it’s a nice low trajectory.”
“Fifty yards is plenty in the city,” Gannon said.
Kristun shrugged. “I never really thought about that.”
“Fifty tests? Well, that’s fine. As soon as we’re done here we’ll organize some assistance for you.” Thacker noted that down. “What else have you got?”
He shuffled through his papers. He shuffled back the other way. “I’ve got a kind of rolling wall. You use it to block a street then slowly push it forward...”
“I am not sure how useful that would be,” Red Raven offered. “Unless we have one for every street I imagine the enemy will just go another direction.”
An Army of Heroes Page 21