Skye trudged his way back to his new barracks. After a mere two days of intense training with the other warriors, he was more bruised and sorer than in all his years of training combined. He’d been shocked to learn eight of the newly graduated trainees, including his three friends had joined the veteran warriors under the command of Talon Greywind. The man, a legend in his own right, struck awe in the hearts of the new recruits. They had met him the day before for the first time after years of hearing about his exploits in battle. With a ragged scar from his left temple to the bottom of his cheekbone, Talon was as memorable physically as he was for being a fierce warrior, implacable in the midst of battle.
Belying his battle prowess, he was a composed, careful man. But for all his skills, he was renown for his honor and loyalty to the men under his command and his cousin, Ragnar Greywind, the King of Pyran. As such, the warriors under his command accorded Talon the respect he deserved.
The men in the battalion were also known for their skills as seasoned warriors. The addition of eight new recruits to the number of men already part of Talon’s command was surprising. In the past fresh recruits were never selected for Talon’s troop. Skye’s instinct told him a plan was in motion. He knew the eight selected for Talon’s troop were the best recruits with weaponry, fighting tactics, and stealth seen in recent years. As he entered the building, he thought back to yesterday.
Their first day under Talon’s command was grinding torture. The veterans’ resentment to the intrusion of untested men into their ranks manifested through their blatant attempts to injure them during practice. Though he understood, Skye spent the day continually proving his skills to his new battlemates. As dawn approached, Talon first ran them through their paces, forcing his men to push themselves to their breaking point. At mid-morning, Talon’s second in command, Errak, then assumed command. Skye was paired with a man a few inches shorter but with a more muscular physique. Larec outlined the circle for the match, needlessly stating the rules for tabulating points.
When Errak gave the command, Skye and Larec came together with a clash of steel and quickly sprang apart, each testing the other’s strengths and weaknesses. When Larec saw Skye smile, he sprang forward in an attack. Larec swept his sword in an arc as he slid closer, hitting like a snake striking its prey in an effort to loosen Skye’s hold on his weapon. Skye managed to twist his arm out of his opponent’s sword range.
Larec’s eyes narrowed at his maneuver, becoming more guarded and more strategic in his next attack. Hoping to throw his opponent off by using a novice mistake, Skye shifted his weight to his other foot, pretending he was no longer centered. Larec took the bait, bringing his sword up, aiming straight for Skye’s heart.
Though Skye expected the move, Larec’s quick reflexes almost bypassed Skye’s defensive block. Larec struck with a speed he’d never seen before. Yet again, Skye twisted to the left, missing the blade to his heart by a hair’s length, and brought the flat of his sword around to slap Larec’s shoulder.
At the score, they broke apart, breathing heavily.
As soon as Larec nodded his head, Skye struck, sliding forward on nimble feet. Larec blocked the move, swinging his sword in the opposite direction. Grinning wildly, Skye modified the upward strike, sweeping his sword around his opponent’s at the same time he stepped forward with his left foot. The maneuver placed him so close to Larec he smelled their morning meal on his opponent’s breath. It also put Skye at a disadvantage, but he’d always been a risk-taker while sparring. The other man brought his sword in a ringing block of steel against steel and danced away.
Only Larec didn’t. Instead, he completed a full turn, bringing his sword around in an offensive strike. Blocking the attack almost a hairsbreadth too late, Skye slid back on his feet to regroup. Without waiting for Larec to do the same, he went on the offensive for a counterattack. After neither scored a hit, they broke apart again.
When Errak came into the ring, Skye glanced around, bemused by the audience. Errak said without preamble, “What do you think, Larec?”
Larec snorted and said in a loud, gruff voice, “I think I’ve found myself a sparring partner.” With that pronouncement, Larec stepped forward with his arm extended toward Skye. Once they were clasped forearm to forearm, Larec grinned at him and said, “Welcome to Talon’s Company.” Some of the older men clapped him on the back, surprising him with their sudden change in attitude.
At the time, he’d been ignorant of the significance of sparring against Larec. Only later did he learn that Larec was a master swordsman, bested only by Talon himself. Dane shared later that night that bets were taken after his first score. He’d also learned Larec had requested Skye brought under Talon’s command after observing him during a training session last year.
Two days later, Skye still could not believe his good fortune. After trudging up the stairs, Skye reached his room, now slightly larger than his old one. The size was not what he coveted the most. It was the bath in the corner. Although the water took several trips to the kitchens, the privacy afforded him the necessary time to soak after the day’s harsh training regimen.
He cleaned his armor and weapons, grabbed the water buckets, and then traversed his way down to the kitchens. Directions to the kitchens required only an ear for the cacophony of noise resulting from the constant bustling activity. The kitchens, he’d learned, were open at all hours of the day and night for the soldiers. Day and night shift rotations required the availability of food and drink for the guards. Entering into one of the large rooms, he wove around the workers to the cauldron holding the hot water. On his way out, he nodded his head toward the head cook. Waving him off, the large woman never hesitated in her string of orders to her staff.
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Filling the tub took several trips. He shrugged off his clothes with movements stiff from overworked muscles. Once his body was immersed in the tub, a relieved moan filled the otherwise silent room.
After his match with Larec, the other seven recruits were taken through their paces, sparring with someone in the troop with expertise in similar weapons. Although each trainee was required to competently learn every weapon for their repertoire, each individual cultivated their skill in a particular weapon in the last two years of training. Timosy, along with Skye, had chosen swords and knives. Thanel favored the double-bladed axe as well as the throwing axe while Dane preferred the crossbow and the long-range bow.
Meeting the expectations of Talon and his men was on everyone’s minds. No one, least of all Skye, wanted to leave Talon’s Company, losing his chance to fight under the hero’s command. Skye ducked his head under the water, holding his breath for several long heartbeats. Coming up, he shook the water from his eyes, spraying drops across the width of the room.
Skye turned his thoughts to the Kurite woman they’d lost at the wall two nights before. If he could unravel the puzzle of her escape, he could finally sleep. He sifted through what he knew, eager for the missing thread to present itself.
God’s teeth, but it was frustrating. By the time he exhaled in irritation, the water had long since cooled. He stood up and grabbed the towel hanging on the wall. Roughly drying off after stepping out of the tub, Skye finger combed his hair, untangling the worst of the knots. He swept his hair back, tying it with a piece of leather, where it would stay off his face. Brows drawn down into a straight line, Skye considered divulging his plan to his battlemates. Throwing on a pair of trousers and a shirt—both dark colors, he slid his boots on and strapped several knives to his arms. Walking out, he decided against telling them. Let them rest in their rooms tonight.
He hesitated at the door, not knowing which way to go. Skye debated eating first before checking on the wall, but his need to know led to the left toward the exit into the courtyard closest to the outer city walls. He’d have time enough to eat once he returned.
It was a short, half-mile walk to the wall. Skye glanced at the wall to find any disturbance of dirt that might expose a hidden door or cracks. Not seeing any signs, he turned his head to check whether he was positioned exactly where the Kurite disappeared. The street where he stood two nights before was directly behind him. Skye pivoted back around and frowned.
He was missing something. He released a slow breath and pushed his irritation away. This puzzle required logic not impatience. He slid in next to the wall to study whether any rocks jutted farther from the wall than any of the others.
There.
Clicking his tongue at the find, Skye drifted his hands over the rock protrusion. He stepped back and balanced on the balls of his feet. And then it hit him. The rock may not be the mechanism to open the doorway but rather a part of the doorway, itself.
With renewed determination, he skimmed his hands along the surrounding rocks. Detecting a groove, Skye grinned with fierce triumph. The groove led him back to the rock where he tapped two of his fingers. The doorway had something to do with that rock. He knew it. He put one muscled shoulder on the section in question and pushed with all his strength against the rock, grunting from the exertion.
Nothing happened.
Muttering an oath under his breath, he turned his head and inspected the wall for any other irregularities. As he heaved himself off the wall, using more power than necessary, he heard a quiet click. Skye leapt back and looked at where he’d placed his right hand. He gave a low whistle of admiration. It was not the rock but the area surrounding it. Deviously designed.
Placing more weight on the wall silently opened a small passageway—beneath his feet. Startled, he jumped back from the thin gap and studied the trapdoor. A wooden trapdoor had been crafted with the appearance of rocks.
A quick search for anyone in the vicinity found him alone. Skye squatted down and pushed against the trapdoor to open it further, but it didn’t budge.
He surveyed the wall as he rose again to his full height. Skye’s eyes caught a slight groove around the stones encircling the raised rock. The rocks he’d pushed were more indented than before. Placing both hands around the middle one, Skye exerted steady pressure. The door slid open on silent hinges, revealing a large, black, underground entryway. Leaning over the opening, he barely detected a staircase leading down.
Now, how did he close the trapdoor from this side? He contemplated the wall again. On a hunch, he pushed against the jutting rock and watched in fascination as the trapdoor slid shut. Hunting down a torch, he thought through the possibilities. Perhaps the Kurites did not use magic. The use of these clever contraptions would make anyone falsely believe the Kurites wielded magic.
With torch in hand, Skye reopened the trapdoor, but hesitated before going down the stairs. His friends should hear and see for themselves what he’d discovered. But as he stared down into the darkness, anticipation fueled his first step down into the tunnel. He’d explore the immediate area around the staircase before returning to the barracks for the night.
Keeping the torch steady in front of him, he glanced at the dirt floor and walls. At first blush, the tunnel looked as if it could collapse at any moment. But upon closer inspection, he realized the walls were made of mud bricks to keep the dirt from pouring into the passageway. As tall as he was, he couldn’t help but feel claustrophobic. With every step he took, Skye felt the ceiling brush the top of his head. Shrugging aside the feeling, Skye strode deeper into the tunnel.
Skye soon came across an intersection that twisted into five different directions. The design was obviously meant to throw off intruders without a map of the system. With a short internal debate, mindful of the torch’s shrinking length, he took the far-right tunnel. After coming across two more intersections within an indeterminate amount of time, Skye grew aware of the full extent of the underground system. This was no small endeavor.
Tunnels and intersections crisscrossed each other, making him fear disorientation. Information regarding the underground system must be shared with not only his battlemates but his commander as well. Their enemy had a means of entering and exiting Gharra without their knowledge. Bypassing their walls was a critical vulnerability to the security of their city—perhaps to the entire kingdom.
A faint whisper of cloth against cloth had Skye spinning around. Shielding the light from his eyes with his right hand, he saw two pairs of golden eyes before he was knocked unconscious.