Time is short. The enemy armies are mere days away; the delaying actions of the Kolraimen troops have not slowed them down. Reinforcements from the witch council have been deployed, but who knows how long it will take for them to arrive? My only consolation during this period is that the project is progressing very nicely. Lady Mira has come up with a way to fuse animal tissue with the human body. She has concocted a potion that is mixed with the desired traits: speed of a cheetah, strength of a bear and eyes of a wolf. The remaining fifty-seven volunteers will serve as test subjects for the potion.
Test Subject 4: Failure
Middle-aged man, drank the potion upon command. Result: Body gradually morphed into a creature with human arms, bear figure and a lion’s tail.
Test Subject 5: Failure
Subject a destitute female. Potion mixture has been changed to increase human fluid to properly strengthen base. Result: Female died within seconds of drinking the potion, in convulsions.
Test Subject 6: Partial Success
An orphan boy has volunteered, maybe youth is required. Result: Boy has become blind, but has increased strength and speed.
Test Subject 7: Partial Success
Potion mixture changed again, with a dampening of wolf essence. A young male prisoner has been given the potion. Result: Has added strength, speed and powerful eyesight; unfortunately, body unable to sustain sudden change and has died.
Test Subject 8: Success
Days of reworking the potion to properly balance it has paid off. Female whore given the new potion. Result: Phenomenal speed, elevated stamina and eyesight that surpasses that of a wolf. Side effect: her eyes have become bloodshot and her skin has become a golden yellow.
Journal Entry 4: Project Salvation, written by Lady Kora of House Firm Arm
Raid stood waiting in the corner of the dark green tent to report his findings. Two men were guarding the entrance to the tent in full plate armour, standing like statues with their hands caressing the pommels of their blades. A small lacquered, oak table stood in the centre of the leafy green tent, its legs resembling the roots of a tree from the forest of Mantoria. On top of the table was a pile of paper stacked high and held together by a stone statue of a tree. At the edge of the table was an hourglass that was slowly dribbling sand into the connecting flask below.
The sound of barking cries of orders being shouted by elder brothers could be heard clearly from within the tent. It was combined with the regular thumping of soldiers smashing their shields against each other in preparation for the coming battle. To add to the noise, a dozen smithies banged away with their hammers, repairing weapons and armour.
While he waited Raid decided to sneak a peek at the documents lying on the desk and found detailed information, such as the cost of provisions, coin spent and other logistics.
Inwardly he thought it was all pointless; no amount of planning would bring them victory. What they really needed were a few divisions of battle-hardened troops from the supremacy to aid them. Pressing aside his concerns for the coming battle, he tried to focus on what he would say to Ancestor Asuha. He needed to convince Ancestor Asuha to let him take command of two units of her best fighters to hunt down the witch and rescue his parents.
Sweat trickled down his spine from the heat that was contained within the tent. The unwashed smell of soldiers, refusing to wash due to it being bad luck, drifted to his nostrils, reminding him of the campsite where he had found the mutilated corpses.
The implications it could have for the army, having humanoids this close, could mean an imminent strike. He replayed the image of their bodies littering the campsite, when two men in dusty green travelling cloaks with hoods pulled up came into the tent and took up positions to his left. Must be scouts by the look of them and not best pleased that I have joined them. Curious to find out what they knew, he asked directly, “What have you seen?” Both men stopped speaking quietly with each other and shot him glares from within their hoods. “That is for the Ancestor to know,” replied the men in gruff voices muffled by the lowered hoods.
Raid’s anger surged again, but he quelled it immediately and asked himself why the soldiers of the Mantorial army were treating him like an outsider. Deciding to ponder on it later, he watched as six more scouts came into the tent, passing the men guarding the entrance. All of them avoided Raid, acting like he was a volatile animal that needed to be killed. He ignored them for the most part; if they wished to treat him like vermin, it was fine by him. He had bigger issues to deal with. Such as none of the returning scouts were Trogon or Kara. As the hourglass slowly emptied, Raid felt his anxiety over Kara and Trogon increasing.
Then, to his utter joy, Kara at last popped her head into the tent. She doubled checked she was in the right place before entering, the hulking form of Trogon close behind her, brushing the sides of the tent with his broad shoulders. Raid released the deep breath he had been holding inside his chest then attempted to nonchalantly gesture for them to join him. Kara giggled at the expression on Raid’s face, causing Raid’s ears heat up with embarrassment at how easy she was able to read him. She sauntered over to stand beside him with a cocky smile on her lips. Trogon came after her, gave Raid a hard slap on the back that would probably leave a bruise and winked at Raid with his bright lavender coloured eyes.
Trogon then proceeded to brush aside the man to Raid’s right, in order to take up a position next to him. The scout Trogon had shoved out of the way grumbled angrily and turned to give Trogon a dark scowl. Upon seeing the gigantic specimen of a man the soldier timidly moved away and let Trogon into the space he had been standing in. The tent now ringed with men and women waiting to give their reports to Ancestor Asuha chatted with each other in hushed voices.
Raid, close enough to the pair beside him, was able to eavesdrop on the conversation going on nearby. The two men were speaking to the newest arrival, a young pretty woman with gold flaked eyes and raven black hair that was wet with sweat. “The humanoids have gone on the offensive; buggers are gathering together at the town of Fontrel, the beasts are massacring everyone in sight,” said the woman with a solemn face. “I had friends there, too,” she said sadly. The men bowed their heads in commiseration for the loss of life. “You think we will be marching to meet them?”
So, the humanoids were massing to meet them in battle: interesting, Raid thought. The odds of winning a confrontation with a mighty war host of humanoids were not good at all. It was a grim reality; even if these humanoids were not half as good as the originals, they were still deadly.
A soft, tiny hand clasped his hand and squeezed gently. Raid gave Kara a grateful smile at the gesture and relaxed his posture. Lady Mira glided into the tent with the grace of a deer, appearing as beautiful as the day he had first met her. She was wearing a yellow silk dress that contoured the body snugly. She stiffened upon seeing Raid and deliberately brushed past him, stepping on his toes as she went by him, and went to the other side of the tent. Guess she was still angry with him for leaving her behind, but the truth was he couldn’t bear to be near her at the moment. Seeing her now only twisted the knife that had been driven into his back, upon hearing she had been apart of the experiment to create humanoids that had taken his parents, slaughtered innocent lives and posed a threat to his homeland. She may have not meant those things to happen, but she was a part of it.
Trogon, seeing the unspoken anguish on his friend’s face, whispered, “Don’t worry, she will forgive you,” misreading the emotion Raid was conveying. Raid clenched his teeth together and stared straight ahead to the far corner of the tent. The bottom half of the hourglass was a quarter of the way full of sand by the time Ancestor Asuha arrived. She strode into the tent with an air of authority that demanded attention, silencing the chatter instantly. She took up the space reserved for her behind the desk and probed the tent with her pitch-black eyes measuring everyone within the room. Her chiselled features gave her the appearance of a resilient woman able to solve problems.
“Begin your reports,” she said in a crisp tone and indicated a finger to the man on her right to start the proceedings. Raid listened closely as reports came in of whole villages further south being burnt to the ground, people taken as prisoners, travellers on the road being slaughtered and humanoids mobilising at the town of Fontrel. Trogon had nothing to report in the south-east; all was quiet there. Raid briefly explained what he had seen on the hillside to the south and his investigation of the bodies, receiving an approving nod at his initiative.
Then it was Kara’s turn. “I went south-west to scout the town of Fontrel; when I arrived there I noticed that the town was empty. So I went into town to look around.” Ancestor Asuha leaned forward as did everyone in the tent. Kara continued. “I was searching all the buildings in the town for clues to anything, but I found nothing so I was going to leave; that’s when humanoids started coming into the inn where I was searching.” Raid’s face went sickly at the thought of him sending her directly into the path of humanoids. “I managed to hide myself beneath some loose floorboards in the inn and waited there. That’s when I heard voices above me in the inn speaking in a strange language.” Ancestor Asuha hid her disappointment.
Kara, however, was not finished. “That’s when another voice started talking to them and it was in Shanama; she said that her plan was working and that soon the land of Mantorial would fall, leaving the supremacy defenceless in the west, allowing Orcish armies to invade Mantorial to begin a campaign.” Raid was stunned by the information he was hearing as was everyone else in the tent. At the same time he couldn’t help feeling immensely proud of her and whispered to her, “Well done, Kara, well done.” She gave him an impish grin at the pride exuding from his voice.
He returned his attention to Ancestor Asuha who was studying her desktop deep in thought, then asked, “Did you recognise the voice you heard speaking?” Kara shook her head sadly, her short brown hair swishing side to side in response. Ancestor Asuha sighed at that. “Guess it was too much to hope for.” She gazed around the tent to the scouts fidgeting. “You are dismissed; grab something to eat and head back to your companies, we will be moving soon.” Raid turned to leave with Trogon and Kara alongside, when Ancestor Asuha’s hard voice stopped him. “Wait, you three stay here, you too, Lady Mira.” Lady Mira gave Raid a disgruntled sniff at having to stay in the tent with him, but waited for Ancestor Asuha to continue. She nodded at Raid, Trogon and Kara to come closer. Raid hesitated for a second, not wishing to be in the same tent as Mira, but reluctantly joined Lady Mira and Ancestor Asuha at the table.
Closer now to his commanding officer, he could clearly see her sunken eyes etched into her face revealing her exhaustion. A surge of respect for the woman’s commitment enveloped him and he stood taller. Ancestor Asuha’s lips quirked into a small smile at Raid’s gesture and she spoke quietly. “Listen carefully, your mission has just been moved forward; you are to head out after I finish speaking with you to the south-east and link up with a troop of soldiers assigned to help you in killing the witch in command of the humanoid forces.” Raid exchanged grins with Trogon, feeling like a boy being given a new sword to practise with.
This was it; finally he would rescue his family. Lady Mira sniffed in disapproval at the exchange of smiles between them. “Men are such fools, wanting danger rather than peace.” Raid chuckled at Mira’s remark. His revulsion at what Mira had done was forgotten for now at the excellent news he had received.
“When you’re done grinning at each other like a couple of goats, listen,” snapped an impatient Asuha. “For some reason Descendent Daok trusts you four; do not let him down.” Raid wiped off his grin from his lips and nodded his head. “Tomorrow morning the Mantorial flag flies to battle against the humanoids gathered at the town of Fontrel; you are to wait till our war hosts are fighting with each other before entering the town to find the witch and ending it.”
Trogon spoke softly. “What if she is not there? There may be more than one witch.”
Ancestor Asuha gazed at Trogon. “We have no choice; if we retreat more people will die, and if we do not end this soon and if what Kara heard is correct? we need to also halt any orc advances.” Raid nodded his head in agreement and saw a pensive Kara staring at her feet.
Raid dropped to his knees. “There is no need for you to come along, Kara, me and Trog can get it done.” Kara’s head whipped up at that and her hand came across to slap Raid on the cheek.
“You’re going to leave me again?” she demanded hotly. Her cheeks darkened with rage. “Didn’t you say you wouldn’t leave me behind again?” she rebuked and poked Raid hard in the chest with a finger to emphasise her point. Raid, astonished at the venom in her words, looked to Mira and Trogon for answers. Trogon rolled his massive shoulders and Lady Mira snickered at Raid’s confusion.
Asuha barked a short mocking laugh. “I can see why Daok chose you,” and gestured at the exit for them to go. Raid sprang to his feet, his left cheek stinging from the slap, and led the group out of the tent into the weak light of day.
Clouds obscured the sky looking like great red blobs, itching to release crimson rain onto the land below. The scent of freshly cut wood tickled Raid’s nostrils. Patrols of men in full plate armour patrolled the new encampment in teams of four. The ten banners of each division fluttered in the wind on poles not two paces away from him: the Bone Breakers with shattered bones on a field of green; the Iron fist; the Sword breakers; the Giants; the Mythic warriors; the Bears; the Titans; the Hammer; the Shadow warriors; and high above all the other flags flying proudly, was the Pouncing Dragon symbol of the supremacy.
Turning away from the flags, Raid looked ahead of him and saw a heavily built instructor in full battle raiment, demonstrating sword strikes for a large group of men that had created a crescent moon around the instructor. The instructor was showing them how to use the short sword in shield formation, by thrusting his blade in and out fast into a wooden opponent that was shaped to resemble a blocky man. The instructor’s repetitive blows struck the centre of the chest, tearing bark out with clean, smooth strikes. Raid was greatly impressed by the display. Oak wood had a habit of sucking the blade into the wood getting the blade stuck. It takes great skill and precise strikes from the blade to thrust in and out without it getting stuck. The instructor then waved the men to line up and practise thrusting their blades forward and back.
Trogon, coming up behind Raid, nudged him in the back. “There is no time to waste, Raid, on dawdling.”
Raid gave Trogon an outraged glare. “Dawdling, am I?”
Mira threw back her head and laughed at Raid’s expense. Kara joined in, giggling in amusement. Raid, blushing furiously, stomped off towards the picket line where the horses would be, when he noticed Descendent Daok from the corner of his eye speaking with two officers. Redirecting his footsteps, he went to say farewell to his childhood friend. Daok, catching wind of Raid’s approach with his companions, dismissed the two officers with him and went to meet Raid.
Green eyes sparkling like gems in aged eyes, Daok clasped Raid in a hug, squeezing him against his chest plate. A wheezing Raid said, “Enough, do you want to kill me?”
Daok gave an abashed grin and pulled away from Raid. “Sorry, forgot I was wearing armour; I have become quite used to it.” He then surveyed the whole group and said, “You are my best hope of ending this battle, before it truly gets messy, so good luck to you, my friends.” He shook Trogon’s hand and patted Kara on the back gently, whispering a few encouraging words in her ears.
He dropped to one knee in front of Lady Mira. “Good Luck, Oh Lady of Gold,” and stood up to peck her on the cheek. Mira’s cheeks went red at the compliment Daok paid her and smiled back at him warmly.
Raid, uncomfortable with the length they were staring into each other’s eyes, spoke. “Time to be off, indeed; no need for dawdling, like Trogon said.”
Trogon gave a bemused chuckle at Raid’s attempt to divert Daok’s attention. Daok at last broke eye contact with Mira and gestured to the three horses behind him that were saddled and packed with bags stuffed with supplies for a journey.
Trogon went straight to the huge grey destrier, with its powerful hindquarters, well-arched neck and strong wide jaw. “Guess this one is mine,” called Trogon gleefully, stroking the destrier’s smooth grey coat. Raid, who had been eyeing the horse, muttered angrily under his breath; he twisted his head to look at the other two horses. Lady Mira took it upon herself to glide past him towards the waiting horses to the snow white palfrey with its long body and short legs. The horse was nuzzling the dried-up grass at its feet, when she hopped onto the palfrey, sitting side saddle gracefully. Leaving Raid with only one choice: the honey-brown courser that was slightly larger than the palfrey. The high-spirited horse whinnied as Raid moved to its side; Kara followed behind him afraid that horses would bite her. Annoyed at not being able to choose his own horse Raid swung into the saddle with a frown, then leaned down an arm to help Kara up.
Kara quivered with fear. “He won’t hurt you; come up, I will show you.” Terrified, she offered her arm meekly to Raid who pulled her swiftly up and swung her in behind him on the saddle. Her thin arms latched onto his silver shirt tightly. Raid twisted his head around to check on her, and saw her face white with fear at the image of falling off the horse and being stomped on.
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“You’re a brave girl, you know that; you ever ride a horse before?” he asked. She shook her head, “There’s nothing to it, really; all you have to remember is to move up and down with the horse, otherwise you will have a sore backside.” Kara gulped and nodded her head.
Daok, who had been waiting till they were all saddled, said in grim voice, “Tomorrow my men march for Fontrel, so you had best station your men close to the town, wait for battle to be engaged and then enter.”
Lady Mira gave Daok a brilliant smile showing her teeth and said, “Don’t worry, we won’t be late, unless Raid gets us lost.”
Daok’s eyes were shining with mischief. “I can believe that, Lady.” Raid, truly angry now, took the reins in his hands, tugged the horse’s bridle to the side and dug his heels into the horse.
The courser leapt forward eagerly, making Kara squeal in shock, rocking back in her seat. Raid settled the horse into a steady trot heading south-east, swinging away from the camp. Lady Mira, with a last lingering glance at Daok standing up straight in his plate armour, his red hair streaming in the wind and green eyes that set her heart pounding furiously, slapped her palfrey softly on the rump to get her moving quickly to catch up with Raid. Trogon placed his axe in the bundles attached to the big horse before trailing the party at the rear.
The sun, blocked by thick, red clouds moving in, no longer was throwing waves of heat at the earth. Kara after a while was beginning to enjoy herself, with the wind caressing her cheeks, neck and hair. The speed of the horse made her stare in awe as the camp dwindled fast behind her; yes, being on a horse wasn’t so bad once you get used to being bounced up and down. Mira caught up to them easily, her palfrey moving alongside Raid’s courser in a smooth, ambling gait that made Raid look like an inept rider.
Raid, realising he was heading back in the direction of the mangled corpses he had seen earlier, turned further south-east. The sound of the horses’ hoof beats pounding along the solid brown earth calmed Raid’s nerves, allowing him to plan his next step. Relaxing his body, he rode across the barren land with its hills and plants. They rode for close to a quarter of a glass, before Raid raised his arm up, halting the group in a clearing between three hills. “We will be arriving at our destination soon; this will be your last chance to empty your bladder and get something to eat,” said Raid in a matter-of-fact tone. Mira raised an eyebrow at Raid at the mention of emptying bladders.
Raid pretended he didn’t notice and hopped down from the horse. He took Kara in both arms, picked her up and plopped her onto the ground. Kara went to the horse. “You’re not so bad,” she whispered in his ear, while stroking the horse’s long neck. Trogon, who hadn’t fared so well riding, was gingerly getting off his warhorse, his legs stiff and buttocks sore from the ride.
Delving in his saddlebags, Raid found some biscuits, dried pork, a loaf of bread and mouldy cheese. He handed Kara a bit of the discoloured cheese that didn’t smell too good and chunk of the dense bread. She took the food promptly from him, and tore into the stiff bread and cheese hungrily, not caring at all about the smell or taste of the food. He took a biscuit for himself and started sucking on the hardened biscuit to moisten it with his saliva, so he could at least bite into it.
Scowling at the tough biscuit, he didn’t see Mira approaching him until it was too late. “I need to speak to you, Raid” she said to him firmly, while glaring at Trogon who was standing nearby trying to eat a piece of dried pork. Trogon winced at the stern expression on her face and understood immediately what she wanted. He hurriedly lumbered off to join Kara, who gazed up at him questioningly as he came near her, and took a light grasp of her small hand to lead her away, leaving Raid alone with Mira.
Raid, startled at Mira’s aggressiveness, was frozen in place waiting for the storm to be unleashed. She waited till Trogon and Kara were out of earshot before crossing her arms beneath her chest and exclaiming in a burst of fury. “Why do you have to act like such a child?”
Raid spluttered, “I’m not a child.”
She grabbed the collar of his silver shirt and brought her face close to his. “Then why are you ignoring me and running away from me every chance you get?” she demanded, her voice cracking.
Raid couldn’t answer, not with her perfect golden face inches away from his, not with her soft brown eyes looking into him and the wonderful aroma of her herbs filling his nostrils. He felt a warm glow in his belly like he had drunk a bit of heart-knocker. He was dizzy and light-headed at the same time. Unable to control the flood of emotions that he was feeling, he leaned forward and planted a kiss on her warm, inviting lips. Startled, Mira jerked back from him, her brown eyes widening in shock. Released from the spell of her presence being near him, he said calmly, “That will have to do for an answer, I suppose.” He wasn’t really surprised at her reaction to his kiss ,although at the back of his mind he had hoped that she would feel the same way.
Moving swiftly to his horse, he mounted up, feeling strangely at peace, because at last he had an answer to the question that lingered within him the entire time he was with her. He called out to Trogon and Kara, “Come on, we had best be moving on, daylight’s wasting.” They were both staring at him in amazement, their mouths gaping open at what they had seen. Eventually, after staring at him for a good long while to make sure they hadn’t imagined the kiss, they came over, Trogon swinging into the warhorse’s saddle and riding over to Raid. Kara passed by Raid, her face flushed red with fury; she ignored the hand Raid proffered up to her and went to Trogon.
Trogon, understanding Kara didn’t wish to ride with Raid, took hold of her hand, picked her up and plopped her on the saddle behind him. A speechless Mira slowly hopped onto her white palfrey still feeling dazed and wondered if the kiss had really happened. Without a word, Raid dug his heels hard into the horse’s sides. The horse took off at a gallop and the wind whistled past him, his hair flicking back in forth, whipping into his face, the thunder of the courser’s hooves churning up the compact earth.
Raid let the spirited courser have its head and pressed himself flat against the horses back; in response to Raid’s unspoken need to be alone, the beautiful brown horse bent its neck forward and gained more speed. Hoof beats that had been closing in from behind began to dwindle away, consumed by a tumult of noise his horse was producing as it pounded its way across dry, arid ground. Trogon roared at him to slow down, but Raid could not, not with the memory of Mira’s lips pressed against his replaying in his head over and over again. He rode hard for several miles, then paused to decide what to do next; he couldn’t keep running.
Hearing a groaning noise coming from above, Raid looked up at the crimson red clouds that covered the sky, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of the clouds shuddering in agony. Shocked, he watched with growing trepidation as the clouds continued to writhe convulsively, before giving a last groan of defeat and releasing their hold. Rain unlike any other showered the earth, releasing tiny red droplets of liquid. The blood red liquid splashed onto his upturned face and slid into his mouth, tasting of desiccation and death. Disgusted, he spat it out furiously and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt to get rid of the foul taste. The sky rumbled ominously.
Raid scanned his surroundings for a place to take shelter from the storm that he knew would come, the rain squirting down harder, soaking his clothes and making it difficult to see. It was only sheer luck that he saw a light appear from within an abandoned fortress in the distance. Tapping the sides of the brown courser he rode towards the ancient, dilapidated fortress. Not wishing to attract attention from the occupants, he veered his horse to the right to approach it from the flank. Another clap of thunder broke the bleeding sky, followed by a crack of lightning piercing the red mist with its brilliant white glow.
Raid was shivering from the cold by the time he reached the side of the abandoned fortress. Slipping from the saddle of his horse, he moved to tie the reins of the horse to a stationary signpost. Words in faded black ink proclaimed this fortress to be ‘Hero’s Den’. Raid smiled at that and went to see who was inside the fortress, but was halted by the sound of his horse whinnying in uncontrollable fear at being left alone in the growing darkness with the ruby red rain and lightning. Raid went over to the horse and stroked its head. “Calm yourself, I will be back soon to bring you inside.” The horse rolled its eyes in its head. Giving the horse a few more pats to settle its nerves, he turned and went to check out the fortress.
Using his little knowledge of stealth, he stuck to the shadows and crept along the side of the stone walls of the fortress. Wiping the rain from his face, he peeked around the corner. A gatehouse that looked to open down the middle was dented badly inwards from blows from a ram, probably from a past siege. There was also a colossal breach in the stone walls of the fortress with rubble heaped up in piles in front of the gaping hole. That’s my way in, thought Raid grimly; he inched his way forward when he heard a cough come from behind him.
He was spinning in an instant, blade sliding out in a blur, and he aimed a vicious blow at the person that had snuck up behind him. Lightning flashed nearby, unveiling the culprit in a bit of light; Raid saw Kara, white-faced, pale blue eyes expanding in fear and mouth gaping in terror. Raid swept the blade over her head and whipped the blade into its sheath. “Damn it, Kara, why are you sneaking up on me? I could have killed you,” whispered Raid furiously.
Kara quivered, standing in her blood-drenched clothing, her mouth opening and closing. At last she said quietly, “Mira wanted you stop wasting time and come inside.” Raid shook his head in disbelief; somehow Trogon, Mira and Kara had managed to arrive at the fortress before him. How was that possible? Feeling foolish for having ridden off without them and annoyed at being the last one to find shelter, Raid said, “It doesn’t answer the question of you sneaking up on me like that.”
Kara muttered under her breath, barely loud enough for Raid to hear. “I just wanted to scare you.” Raid shook his head in disbelief at the girl’s foolishness, and turned to retrieve his horse from the signpost. Kara waited for him to return with his horse and together they slowly climbed the pile of rubble to keep their footing and entered the fortress through the broken wall.
The large courtyard of the fortress, where men at arms had once trained daily, was empty of movement, the slick, wet earth bare of any vegetation. At the corners of the fortress stood four round towers, with cones on top of them. A substantial-sized keep loomed ahead, with an imposing oak door that was twice the size of a giant, with a face engraved into the length of the wooden door. Waves of hair spilled down the sides of its face, a full beard hung from its square jaw and its large eyes were creased with wrinkles. Flanking the doorway were a pair of huge stone statues in full battle raiment, with swords raised to the sky in defiance.
Raid’s mind swirled with thoughts of a story his father had once told him, but he had never believed it to be true, it just wasn’t realistic. Now, gazing at the wise old face on the door to the keep, he believed it. The sign out front should have given him the first clue as to where he was, but he had been too busy with thoughts of Mira, the war and finding shelter. Raid stood there on the pile of rubble taking it all in and couldn’t help but feel humbled at this gift.
“What is it, Raid?” enquired Kara in a sullen voice, wishing to be inside and out of the strange rain.
Raid laughed with pleasure and pointed to the great keep and replied in a tone full of awe and reverence, “My father once told me about a place like this, where heroes of legend like Slicing Sanet, Never Miss Lushell and Giant Geore would gather to take on jobs, celebrate victories in the hall and induct new members into their order.” He waved his arms in the air. “This is one of those places, Kara,” he said happily, his orange eyes sparkling with joy and amazement at his discovery.
Kara gazed at her dingy surroundings and tried to imagine the place like it would have been years ago, with walls that weren’t crumbling, towers that were not leaning backwards and grounds that were lush with green grass. But she couldn’t see it; this place just seemed too dark, creepy and made her skin crawl. “How do you know this is where heroes used to come?” she asked.
Raid’s lips tightened at the sound of her scepticism and pointed towards the door leading into the keep. “Tales always speak of the wise old man that guards the way into the hall of heroes, and on the door over there is a wise old man.”
Kara shrugged. “Could be coincidence.”
Raid growled and tugged the reins of the horse and stomped off into the courtyard. To his right, Raid saw a light, burning brightly in the stables. With thoughts of getting out from beneath this deluge of sticky, red rain he hurried towards it. Kara followed quickly behind him. Nearing the stable yard, he saw two horses tied up in stalls: Trogon’s warhorse and Mira’s palfrey. Bales of hay surrounded the insides of the stables, with dozens of stalls to either side. The smell of rotten hay filled his nostrils as he entered the stable yard where piles of brown hay carpeted the stable floor. Leading his horse to the nearest stall, he brought the big courser into a relatively clean one.
The horse nickered in appreciation of the warmth and didn’t struggle as Raid unsaddled it, first taking off the saddle bags, unclipping the girth straps and setting the dripping wet saddle on the stall’s hooks. The honey-brown horse was covered head to foot in red tear drops that stained the horse’s beautiful coat. Raid and Kara weren’t much better, with their clothes smeared red with inky substance that had come out of the clouds. Finding a brush hanging from the stall wall, Raid attempted to brush the horse clean.
Kara watched him comb the horse’s spotted brown coat; bored, she asked, “Did you give your horse a name?”
Raid grunted in annoyance and answered, “Yes, I call him horse.”
Kara shook her head emphatically. “No, no, no, you have to give the horse a proper name, like in the stories.”
Raid raised his eyebrows at that. Then after several moments of contemplation, he said, “I will call him Brownie, on account of him being brown.”
Kara snickered at that. “That’s awful,” she said, giggling. “Trogon calls his horse Titanos, which means Titan and Mira calls her horse Snowflake.”
Those were good names, thought Raid in disgruntlement, and stopped brushing the horse to look into its big black eyes. What should I name you? The horse, as if understanding his thoughts, nickered softly and nudged him in the chest with its head. “Ahh, I know what I will call you,” he said to the horse, stroking its mane. “I will name you after one of the greatest heroes of legend: Matagen, hero of Mantorial.” The horse neighed in assent to the name. Raid twisted his head to look at Kara, seeking her approval.
She placed a finger on her lips, then said, “Matagen, I like it.”
Raid grinned in pleasure and patted Matagen’s muzzle. Done cleaning Matagen he stretched his arms, feeling tired, and questioned Kara. “Where have you set up camp for the night?”
Kara, who had been fiddling with her hair, replied, “They’re at the back of the stable and they’re not alone.”
Raid looked at her with confusion. “Who’s with them?”
Kara’s blue eyes sparkled with mischief and she replied casually, “See for yourself.” He walked out of the stall with Kara close behind him and went deeper into the stables.
At the rear of stable yard he saw six soldiers sitting around a crackling fire, wearing full Mantorian plate armour that shone in the fire light. Trogon’s huge familiar form lurked in the shadowy corner standing with Lady Mira. His mouth drying up at the sight of Lady Mira’s slender figure, he was so engrossed with seeing her again, he banged his shoulder against a wooden post, breaking his focus and attracting the attention of the soldiers by the fire.
The soldiers leapt to their feet swiftly and drew their steel short blades, while hefting their kite shields. Forming into a line they advanced on Raid, shields touching each other and blades pointing outwards to stab. Raid almost relished the challenge of breaking through a shield wall, but did not wish to kill his fellow countrymen by accident. “Hold,” he called out to them, raising his arms in the air to show that he was unarmed. “It’s me, Raid.” The men advancing toward him hesitated.
The man at the end of the line broke the formation to speak quietly with his fellow soldiers, before pivoting on his heels and coming to Raid on his own. “Come into the light, so that I might see your face,” called the leader of these brothers in a fierce voice. Raid shrugged his shoulders and continued forward into the light of the flames emitted from the fire. The officer studied Raid as he approached into the flame light and Raid studied him in turn, receiving his first look at the man in command. He was a man of medium height with broad shoulders, steel armour carefully polished without a speck of dust on it, a flat face made of iron that was completely emotionless, penetrating black eyes that analysed every inch of him, short cropped grey hair and skin the colour of sunset. Altogether he was a rather intimidating man.
The soldier spoke over his shoulder to Trogon and Lady Mira. “Do you recognise this man?” Trogon nodded his head. Mira grew pale at Raid’s appearance and remained quiet. She was probably still freaked out over the kiss he had given her, he thought with a frown. The soldier untied a skin of water tied at his waist and offered it to Raid. “My name is Elder Brother Gastron of the Mythic warriors, leader of what remains of this unit of brothers,” said the man in a rough voice used to shouting commands.
Raid took the offered skin of water and drank a sip, then returned it to Gastron replying, “I am Raid, and I am here to assist you with your mission.” Gastron retrieved the skin of water and retied it to his waist. He then faced the line of men waiting for further orders and said, “Settle yourselves down and get some sleep, gentlemen, we have a big day tomorrow. Langsa, Jarkon you’re on watch, wake me and Sana in a few hours.” The soldiers slapped their arms together against their shields in salute and went to do as they were commanded, finding places to sleep by the fire.
The elder brother turned back to Raid. “You had best get some sleep as well.”
Raid nodded his head in agreement at the suggestion. Curious as to what happened to the elder brothers’ unit, he enquired softly, “How did you lose four of your men?”
Kara, who had been hidden behind Raid, inched her way forward to listen to Gastron’s reply. The man stared at Raid with unblinking eyes forged of black marble. “Humanoids hit my men in an ambush; beasts were hidden so well in shadows, we didn’t see them till daggers were flying at us.” Gastron’s throat tightened at the memories of his men lost. “We were dead; there was no way we could win or flee without being chased and killed.” A single tear trickled from his eye. “Faek, Sorik, Drasa and Hamu took it upon themselves to draw them away from the rest of us and fought to the death so the rest of us could escape.” He wiped the tear from his cheek roughly, his face becoming distant again.
Raid felt sorrow in his chest at the man’s loss. He too had lost brothers fighting in the Mantorial army. The pain of losing a brother was like losing a member of his own family. Raid bowed his head and solemnly said, “Their names will not be consigned to oblivion; they will be remembered.” Gastron looked at Raid with troubled eyes, and then tapped his hand to his shield in salute at the high praise given to the men who gave up their lives to save their comrades. He turned aside to join his men.
“That was nice,” said Mira softly as she came over to him. Her alluring smell, grace and beauty intoxicated him, causing his heart to beat faster. Kara, who was watching the interplay between Mira and Raid, gave a cry of fury at Raid openly ogling Mira and kicked him hard in the shins. Blood boiling in her veins, she went to speak with Trogon. Raid gingerly rubbed his leg and watched Kara leave, utterly confused with her reaction.
As if reading his thoughts, Mira said, “She is infatuated with you, Raid, she doesn’t like it when you stare at other women.”
Raid’s jaw dropped, startled at Mira’s comment. Then snapped it shut with a click. “Other women? You mean you?” She nodded her head. Outraged at the accusation, he puffed out his chest. “I was doing no such thing,” he burst out loudly.
Mira ignored Raid’s outburst of indignation and said, “About the kiss, Raid …”
Raid forestalled her with a raised hand. “There is no need to say anything, Mira, your answer to me was quite clear by your reaction,” he said quietly. “In any case, it was foolish of me to want a witch, especially one that had a hand in creating humanoids,” and walked away from her. He felt her eyes upon his back as he left, and went to see how Trogon was doing.
Kara, seeing Raid coming towards them, sputtered curses at him, and went to find some hay to sleep on. Trogon’s purple eyes glittered with amusement in the darkness, his head nearly bumping the ceiling of the stable yard. Clasping hands with the big man, Raid asked, “When did things become so complicated?”
Trogon guffawed at that and slapped Raid on the back. “Think it was when you decided to take Mira on as a paying customer,” replied Trogon with a short laugh.
Standing beside Trogon, Raid watched four of the Mantorian soldiers lay themselves close to the fire, the other two heading to the front of the stable yard to watch for signs of trouble, their forms outlined in the gloom cast by the fire that crackled and popped. Mira and Kara were given the far corner of the stable yard to bed down, to avoid any issues with the soldiers. Mira arranged bales of hay in a small wall to get some privacy. Grateful for the peaceful silence that fell over the barn, Raid and Trogon stood quietly together, thinking on the upcoming battle. Finally Raid said lightly, breaking the silence, “It all comes down to tomorrow.”
Trogon smiled with longing. “It all comes down to tomorrow” he repeated.