An Army of Heroes

by Scott J Robinson

  Grint grunted. “If she is not already dead she will live that long at least.”

  “Tomorrow morning, then.” It seemed a lifetime away, and might well be. Celeste’s lifetime.

  Thacker nodded. “Early. And we have a lot to do before then.”

  They were still talking themselves in circles when Rawk left, trying to find the one thing that would turn the battle in their favor. Rawk didn’t think there was anything to find. He would cross the river while an ‘army’ created a distraction and he would leave them to their fate while he went to find his old friend and kill him. Then it would all be over.

  Outside the administration building, he stopped on the top step and looked out at the city. There were not many people about. Most of them were down by the river— stopping Weaver’s mercenaries from crossing, or searching the streets for those that had yet to be rooted out— or holed up in their homes, waiting for their loved ones to return.

  “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  Rawk’s hand went to the hilt of Kaj but a moment later he recognized the voice. “Hello, Yardi.” He turned saw her sitting on a bench further along the porch. “I’m surprised you aren’t off finding a way to make money from this fight.”

  She shrugged. “I already know how to do that. I just wasn’t sure you be appreciating some of the methods.”

  “Have you eaten?”

  They walked down the street together. Not all of the street lamps had been lit, so they spent a lot of time in the dark, moving with a thin stream of people. They stopped at tavern where the tables had spilled out onto the street. Most were empty, despite Caldera being overflowing with refugees, but Sylvia was sitting at one table with Grint, Juskin, Clinker, Biki and Suki. The elf waved him over.

  “I didn’t see you leave the meeting,” Rawk said as he sat down.

  “I knew nothing of planning battle when I was fighting them in my youth. I know even less now.”

  Rawk had to agree. “Well, they’re still going up there so I’m not sure that they know a lot either.”

  Sylvia had a small smile. “Men like Gannon and Red Raven do, thankfully. And hopefully we do not have to survive much longer. If you are successful in the morning...”

  Rawk didn’t want to think about that. “Are you all eating?”

  But Sylvia couldn’t let the talk of the fighting go. “How do you stand the waiting?”

  “Firstly, you don’t think about the waiting. You don’t talk about the waiting.”

  “Sorry.”

  He shrugged. “Practice. But that doesn’t even help all the time. It’s much easier when it isn’t personal, apparently. Or maybe it’s much easier when you are younger.”

  Grint shifted in his chair. “You will get her back, won’t you?” It looked like the dwarf had aged a decade in the last few days. Or perhaps it was just since the afternoon.

  “I’ll get her back.”

  “I know you will.” But he didn’t sound convinced. Maybe that was the way of dwarves in Katamood, always thinking the world was against you.

  Rawk wasn’t sure either. It seemed a long way up to the palace.

  “She will be all right, Grint.” Biki laid a hand on Grint’s arm and he nodded.

  Rawk cleared his throat and changed the subject. It wasn’t very subtle. “I hope you’re looking after Demon, Clinker.”

  The lad smiled and folded back the flap on his satchel. The kitten poked its head out into the light and looked around. When it saw Rawk, it climbed out, padded across the table and nuzzled against his hand.

  “He’s never done that before,” Clinker said. “He doesn’t like people much.”

  “Some animals are like that.” Rawk petted Demon’s head and scratched behind his ears. “But when he does make a friend, he will be the most loyal animal you have ever seen because he knows how rare real friends are. And he will do anything for you.”

  “Really?”

  “Well, he might make some mistakes because he’s just a cat and sometimes might not understand how those things are supposed to work, but he’ll try his best.” He turned to look at Sylvia and she had another smile for him. She touched his arm for a moment, then took a sip of her spiced wine. And Rawk looked at the others. But they weren’t just his friends. They were his family. Even Juskin, with his spectacles and crazy red hair. Two people were missing though. He didn’t know where Travis was and wasn’t sure what he was thinking any more. And Celeste...

  Grint obviously got the allusion because he shifted uncomfortably in his seat and looked intently at an interesting building across the street.

  When the silence stretched on, Rawk clapped his hands together. “What are we all eating?”

  “They have roast beef here, I think,” Biki said. “I will go and get us some.”

  “I’ll pay.” Rawk started fishing for some money, then just handed the dwife his entire purse.

  Grint went with her and the two of them came back a couple of minutes later with two trays barely big enough to contain all the plates of roast beef and vegetables. Rawk pulled his cutlery from the pouch on his belt, polished the knife and then set to.

  “Here’s your purse.”

  “Thank you.” He looked around the table and cleared his throat. “If this doesn’t go well,” he said, concentrating on his meal again, “Yardi may have to leave Katamood. But, if you ever need anything, go and see her. I’m not sure what will be left if... But there should be enough.”

  Grint grunted. “No offense, Yardi, but I’d like to keep dealing with Rawk.”

  Rawk concentrated on his roast beef with much more intensity than was necessary, cutting the meat with his bone handled knife as if it was the most important task in the world.

  Satyrday

  It took a moment for Rawk to push aside the dream, though he didn’t want to. Bree had been there walking amidst a menagerie of exots, petting them and feeding them treats. It had been a nice dream, though he wondered if it would have turned violent if he had not woken when he did. He thought it ironic that with all the dangerous creatures in the world, men always seemed to outdo them all. But lying in the dark he clung to her memory as long as he dared, and listened to the sound of all the warriors sleeping around him. Being a great Hero and all, he probably could have gotten himself a private room the night before but it hadn’t felt right. A lot of these men, or men like them, would be attacking a superior force over the bridge very soon, just to get him across the river. The least he could do was keep them company for a few hours.

  The sounds of the city came to him through the window, and he could almost pretend that everything was back to normal. The tram was rattling along the tracks and a blacksmith was battering away at something. But the former was probably overloaded with soldiers and the latter was probably making a weapon of some kind, working up until the last minute. Once again, just to get him across the river.

  There was no signal, nothing in the outside world seemed to change, but the men started to wake. The sound of breathing in the room changed, a shifting of the wind. The men were silent at first but, as more woke, soft conversations started to creep about the room like early morning mist.

  Rawk stayed where he was for a few more minutes, letting the peace settle on him as if he might be able to carry it with him for the rest of the day. Eventually, he climbed to his feet, shook his knee to unlock it as he collected his sword and belt from the floor, and hobbled through the flotilla of sleeping-pallets. He nodded to men as he passed. He clasped hands with some, touched some on the shoulder. He didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything at all. He looked at faces and wondered who would not be around by the time noon come around. Possibly, many of them wouldn’t even make it ‘til dawn. In the hallway, a rushing dwarf nearly knocked him over and they apologized in unison, the sound like a thunderclap in the stillness. The dwarf didn’t slow but Rawk stayed where he was, rubbing at his face as if he could scrub away the last few weeks so he could sit in the Mason’s Hammer and tell
Waydin he wasn’t interested in killing a wolden wolf. But it wouldn’t matter. Weaver was already in love, and everything that came after was inevitable, sooner or later.

  “Rawk!”

  Rawk jumped and turned to find Thacker with a small group of advisors heading his way.

  “How long?”

  Thacker stopped and took a deep breath. “Our army is already starting to gather amongst the buildings down near the river. It will probably be an hour before we are ready.”

  “And what is the time now?”

  “Four hours past midnight.”

  Four in the morning was too early. Five would be too early as well. “In Frenable they wouldn’t start a battle before midmorning. This time of day is uncivilized.”

  “War is uncivilized, Rawk.” Thacker said. He looked around at his advisors as if he’d forgotten something. “There has been a slight change of plans.”

  “Oh.”

  “They’re likely to have a lot of sentries watching the river. We can’t guarantee you could get across without being spotted and if you’re spotted then you will probably die.”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “So you will cross the bridge with the diversion.”

  “I will? I’m not sure I’ll be able to slip through the battle lines without being spotted either.”

  “Not far over the bridge, there’s an access point for the sewers. So you and your team can climb in there.”

  Rawk pursed his lips. “You want us to go all the way up the hill in the poo pipes?”

  “Of course not. You can just go a hundred yards or so then come up into the streets again.”

  “That’s all right then. I think. So who else is coming?”

  Thacker motioned back over his shoulder. They are gathering in the meeting room for breakfast. You might as well join them. We’ll send someone to collect you all soon enough.

  In the meeting room, a spread of food had been laid out on the main table. Four dwarf soldiers— Rake, Crisp, Heron and Poe— were standing together. Red Raven, bow by his side, and Frew, were sitting with a young man that Rawk recognized as a sorcerer. And Buzt, the big, dragon tattooed man from Zid’s jentre was on his own in the corner with his sword and oilstone in his lap as if he had been sharpening his sword or was about to start. Rawk hoped he was finished, for he knew the sound would set his nerves on edge. And standing by the window, looking out over Caldera, was Sylvia. Rawk didn’t feel like eating, but he took some cold chicken and some bread and went to stand by her side.

  “Hello, Rawk.”

  “Hello, Sylvia. Why are you here?”

  She turned to look at him and gave a small smile. “You and I started this battle together, Rawk, I intend to be there to help you finish it.”

  “But you can’t—”

  She pulled her pistol from her pocket. “I have this. And you never know, I may find a rapier to use as well, instead of the war hammer.”

  “Just make sure you come out alive.”

  “You are worried for my health? How far we have come.”

  “I’m not worried about you,” Rawk said with a smile. “You have all of Clinker’s money.”

  Sylvia smiled. “So you are worried about a dwarf then? I believe my point stands.” She took a deep breath. “But I am sure the boy will do fine, come what may.”

  “Who’s that?” Rawk gestured to the sorcerer with Frew.

  Sylvia glanced in his direction. “That is Drace. He will do well enough as well, as long as he can hold his nerve.”

  As long as he can hold his nerve. Rawk knew the feeling. He went over and greeted the young man. If they were going to fight together, to die together, he should at least say hello. But after the greeting, Rawk didn’t know what to say. He put the piece of chicken on his bread and ate mechanically. Outside the sound of the machineries of war were joined by the murmur of people as the city awoke from its restless slumber. “It is going to be a long day.”

  Drace nodded nervously.

  It wasn’t long before a dwarf poked his head around the door. Everyone looked up at him and he suddenly looked nervous. “There are cabs waiting for you down on the street,” he said. “It’s time.”

  Rawk nodded, as if the statement had been just for him. Rake handed him a pack. “What’s this?”

  “Food. Water. A map of the palace.”

  “Right.” Rawk had a look inside then slung the pack over his shoulder. He checked that he had everything else. Cutlery in the pouch on his belt. Jerky for snacks. His dagger. Spectacles. Kaj sheathed at his side. Old habits that, for a moment, made it seem like it was just another day. Not a day when he was planning to kill one of his oldest friends even if that friendship had been in question for some time.

  -O-

  The goats pulled the cabs down through the city and every window seemed to hold a candle to light the way. People watched from the soft light and Rawk could feel the weight of all the expectations descending on him the further they went towards the river. They clattered over a bridge across the canal and it seemed to Rawk that the machines down in the depths were silent for the first time in months, though he knew they stopped every night. And beyond, the streets were lined with people. At first it was civilians, watching silently. Rawk didn’t know whether to wave or stare straight ahead. And the whole time he imagined how the goat would react to a storm of walnuts. But there were no nuts and no ribbons and no cheering and soon the civilians gave way to militia— civilians with weapons. Men and women who would soon be charging across the bridge just so Rawk could sneak along in their wake with his smaller army.

  He remembered what Keegan had said after the confrontation between the Heroes and the sorcerers. He turned to Frew and gestured out at the men and women crowding back against the building along the side of the street to let the goats past. “There’s Keegan’s army of heroes.”

  Frew looked around. He gave a small nod, more to himself than anyone else, and stayed silent.

  The darkness and the silence hung heavy. All those people watching, with hardly a sound to touch the night. Thousands at parades and after battles had cheered Rawk, but this silence touched him more and sent a shiver down his spine.

  A block from the water, the goats stopped and Rawk climbed to the ground. Thacker was waiting, surrounded by advisors as ever, though now they were all silent. It was too late now, the stones were cast.

  Rawk gripped the dwarf’s hand. “So, this is it?”

  Thacker nodded. “I guess it is. I’ll see you when you get back.”

  Rawk nodded, took a deep breath. And for the first time, he wondered if he would get back at all. He knew he could beat Weaver in a fair fight, but the odds of that situation arising were slim at best.

  Thacker took a deep breath too. “Where’s Kristun?”

  The engineer appeared out of the crowd, pack on his back, pistol in his belt and another, with a longer barrel, in his hand. He also had a bow slung over his shoulder.

  “How are they looking?”

  “How do you think?” He gave the long pistol to Thacker. “They’ve had about an hour of training and are expected ta go into battle.”

  “What’s that?” Rawk asked.

  “It’s a pistol.”

  “Well, yes, but...” Rawk looked at the weapon. “It doesn’t look like Sylvia’s,” he said.

  Kristun shook his head, looking as excited as a Hero with a new sword. “Longer arrows are more accurate. I didn’t know if that would transfer ta the pistols anyway but I thought I’d give it go.”

  “And?”

  “It’s definitely better with the long barrel. I call this one a musket. I hit a five-inch target four times out of five at about thirty yards. That could improve with more practice, obviously. The range is, maybe, a sixty yards. Though that could improve too, I suppose, once we get things worked out properly.”

  “And now the militia have them as well?”

  Kristun nodded. “We have about thirty pistols and ten muskets.” />
  “Can they hit anything?”

  The dwarf shrugged and scratched his cheek. “I reckon the noise will do as much as the lead pellets. We only need a couple of minutes ta get into the sewer.”

  “We?”

  “You need someone along who knows what they’re doing. Not with hand-ta-hand fighting, of course, but anything else that needs doing. Like at the Quod.”

  “You can use that bow?”

  “I’ve never killed a man, but I’ve been working with bows, trying ta improve them, for a few years now. So we’ll see, I suppose.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course.”

  Rawk gripped his hand but Thacker interrupted before he could say anything. “The other things are ready?”

  Kristun nodded, tugging at his beard. “I think so.” He looked up at the sky. “The wind was in our favor half an hour ago but now...”

  “Someone is keeping an eye on it?”

  “Of course.” Kristun looked offended that things could be otherwise.

  “And they know what they’re doing?”

  Kristun hesitated and Thacker raised his eyebrows. “If those things...”

  Kristun nodded. “Luker should be able ta handle it.”

  Thacker took a deep breath. “Right, well let’s get this war finished.”

  But he didn’t move. He waited for Gannon to start moving towards the river. Rawk followed. He moved through the waiting militia and still there was no sound beyond the soft shuffling of their feet and the whisper of their breath. That would all change soon enough. In the stillness, a commotion coming along behind caught Rawk’s attention. He stopped and was surprised to see Juskin painfully rushing to catch up.

  “You really can’t come, Juskin,” Rawk said once the old man had caught his breath.

  “No, no, no. I don’t want to go, Rawk, heaven’s no. I just… Good luck. Path go with you on this journey.” The old man held up his two fingers. “Or something like that, I suppose.”

  “Well, this is a strange journey, to be sure,” Rawk said, “and if the Great Path is around here somewhere, I shall be pleased enough for his company.” A journey? he thought with a grunt. Huh.