Em'brel sat back from her table. The windmill was starting to take form. They traded a bit of efficiency for reliability and ease of use by switching to an upright design. The blades were now spinning on a vertical axis rather than a horizontal one. The power output in "good wind conditions" would be a bit lower, but the ability to function in all weather and the reduction in maintenance it would require would hopefully compensate for that.
Fea'en was shaping the lumber for the supports and foundation, and Tel'ron was working on some metal fixings and braces to properly reinforce the building to hopefully withstand extreme weather unscathed.
The only thing Em'brel had to do was wait for word from either party, Jack and S'haar's return, and/or for Ger'ron to get back from seeing to one of the guards injured in practice earlier.
Of course, that still didn't mean Em'brel was free and on her own. The Guard Captain had left her in the charge of one of the younger guards he'd apparently been stationed with back when he'd been a simple gate guard in his village.
The kid, Jar'maal, she reminded herself, was looking over plans on the table, scratching his head. He wasn't really a kid; in fact, he was older than Em'brel, but it was hard not to think of someone so obviously in over his head all the time as anything other than a kid. "This fancy set of drawings actually explains how this thing you're building is supposed to be put together?"
Em'brel nodded. "Yeah. It's a skill you have to learn, but it explains everything down to the smallest detail. It's actually the combination of several of us working together, all under the watchful eyes of the dragon."
Jar'maal stood up and looked at her oddly. "Now, how's that work? Since I've arrived, I've heard plenty about the dragon and how she's always watching, but I've never seen hide nor breath of the supposed beast. How is it possible for something that made that big a hole," the guard waved in the general direction of the cave, "to see everything while staying hidden. It seems like more people should have seen some evidence of her before now. The only ones who have are the original group of workers, and if anyone asks them about it, they all keep their mouths shut. What gives?"
Em'brel sat back and thought. This was hard to explain without lying, but the whole truth wouldn't do, either. Howto explain Angela, without explaining Angela?
She was just opening her mouth to speak when there was an insistent knocking at the door, followed quickly by one of the workers, Ral'fen, walking in and waving about his tools. "Lady Em'brel, I realize I might not be one of your prized workers, but I have a job to do as well! If Tel'ron has the whole workshop working on your little pet projects, I can't do that job!" He pointed at the schematic as he shouted.
As he pointed, three things happened simultaneously. First, Jar'maal's gaze followed the pointing hand to the schematic. Second, Angela shouted urgently in Em'brel's ear, "Something's wrong!" Finally, the worker swung the hammer in his offhand into the back of the guard's head.
Jar'maal went down hard, but Em'brel was up on her feet just as quick. Ral'fen had a large hammer in one hand and a wicked-looking chisel in the other, but his grip was odd. He was holding the chisel more like a dagger than a tool, and the tip seemed far sharper than any metalworking tool had any right to be. He started to advance on Em'brel.
Trying to buy herself some time, Em'brel flipped the table and its contents toward the worker. He nimbly lept back, avoiding any debris but also giving Em'brel just a bit more breathing room. Anglea was quick to speak up. "Go out through the back door! Grab your training spear on your way out, and you'll have an advantage in reach in an open space!"
Em'brel started moving before Angela finished speaking. Grabbing her spear as she reached the door. Ral'fen closed the gap in the time it took her to shove the door open, but Em'brel turned and stabbed her spear wildly, forcing him to halt his headlong charge.
Out in the open, Em'brel took up the stance Ger'ron had drilled into her, but Ral'fen adopted a totally different stance than she'd been expecting. Usually, the worker was less than competent in training, even compared with the other workers. He was always slow and clumsy, barely able to maintain a proper grip on his weapons. Now he crouched low, with his feet spread so that he could launch himself in any direction, and all his movements were oddly fluid.
Em'brel could hear Ger'ron's instructions in her mind. "Buy yourself some time! Get him talking if you can!" She kept her eyes wide, trying to appear confused as she spoke, hoping to elicit a response. "Why are you doing this? What did I ever do to you?"
The worker narrowed his eyes. "This isn't about you, at least not personally. It's about your position and the trouble you can cause."
He feinted left, then right, and Em'brel jabbed her spear in response to the movements in an attempt to block his positioning if he committed, but he seemed content to wait for an opening. Em'brel would be more confident of her advantage, but her spear wasn't very sharp due to all the hard use in training. Ral'fen was pacing just outside her reach, forcing her to adjust her stance and facing constantly. She tried speaking to him again. "Whatever you're being offered, we can pay better! You've seen the things we can make at this Outpost!"
Ral'fen shook his head. "You think I'm stupid enough to fall for that? You might be the darling of this Outpost, but you don't have any authority other than what is given to you. Do you think S'haar will honor your empty promises when she returns?"
Em'brel gave it one last attempt. "You can just leave! No one will pursue you! But if you hurt me, you know Jack and S'haar will come for you!"
Ral'fen smiled. "Let them try!" Then he rushed forward.
Em'brel jabbed with her spear, but Ral'fen blocked with his chisel, deflecting the blow to his side. Now inside the spear's reach, he started to swing the hammer. In response, Em'brel spun in place, reaching forward to grab further up the spear and shifting her grip so at the end of her turn, she drove the butt of the spear into the stomach of her foe. At least, she would have, if he didn't redirect his hammer to swing at the spear instead, knocking it to the side while at the same time stabbing out with the newly freed chisel.
Em'brel fell back and only received a light scraping on her chest plate as a result but lost her grip on her spear. She crouched low, getting ready to launch herself at her opponent. She tried speaking again. "When did you learn to fight like this? What use has a craftsman for such skills?"
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
This time Ral'fen just smirked. Apparently, he was done talking, now that he had his opening, and rushed forward. Em'brel lept to the side to avoid his initial attack and rolled further to avoid the next. Once she had her feet underneath herself again, she tried launching herself up and away, but Ral'fen had apparently dropped his hammer and grabbed her ankle instead and jerked it back, causing Em'brel to fall onto her stomach. She rolled to the side, her chest plate receiving a new gouge from another downward strike as she did so, and kicked up wildly, forcing Ral'fen to fall back a couple of feet.
Em'brel got partially to her feet but fell back to one knee as a sudden piercing pain struck her side. Looking down, she could see that his strike had cut deeper than she'd thought as a surprising amount of blood was oozing out of the wound. She instinctively covered the injury with one hand and bared her fangs at her foe, thinking of what to do next.
He was much more skilled at this than any worker should be. It was apparent he had been well trained elsewhere before coming here. He might even be better than most guards here, leaving him at a clear advantage against Em'brel. Her only hope was to try something he didn't expect.
This time, as he lept toward Em'brel, she leaped toward him. She struggled to redirect his chisel away from herself on impact but received a knee to the stomach in the process. As she collapsed, he kicked her in the side, and she rolled over, clutching her stomach in pain as she begged. "Please! Don't! I'm not a threat to anyone! Just let me go!"
Ral'fen leered at his prey as he stood over her. "Don't be so pathetic! Die with a little dig..."
The last was cut off as Em'brel launched herself up and at him, taking advantage of the moment he'd let his guard down to revel in his impending victory, just like S'haar had done to Lon'thul when she'd pretended to be hurt. She latched onto him, biting and clawing with everything she had, struggling to hurt him in any way she could.
She got in several good blows, biting deep into the joint on his shoulder, clawing one of his ears to shreds with one hand, scouring along the edge of one of his leg plates with the claws on her feet, drawing plenty of blood. But, unfortunately, it wasn't enough as he, in turn, buried the chisel in her arm, loosening her grip. Then he slammed downward with both arms, throwing her to the ground and driving the air from her lungs.
He was a bloody mess, but this time Em'brel really was helpless, and he wouldn't make the same mistake twice. He reached for the chisel that had fallen when Em'brel did and turned to finish the job.
As he swung down for the final time, his arm was caught by another far stronger arm. Tel'ron might not be a fighter, and his skill with a spear was barely above average for the workers, but the muscles he'd developed from years hammering away at the forge were more than enough to halt all the momentum of Ral'fen's swing. After barely a moment's hesitation, the Outpost's craft master violently twisted his arm, and a loud series of pops could be heard from the other male's arm. Though that sound was quickly drowned out by his screams.
Ral'fen's arm now hung limply at his side, and Tel'ron adjusted his grip, intending to break the other man in two through raw force alone. The assassin's screams increased in volume and pitch as his body and life neared their end when Em'brel's shouted loudly enough to be heard. "Tel'ron, stop! Don't kill him!"
The smith eased off a little as he looked at the younger woman in surprise and maybe a little anger. "We can't show him mercy after what he tried to do to you! He has to die!"
Em'brel climbed shakily to her feet and spit out some blood from her impact before turning to Tel'ron and his victim. "I didn't say anything about mercy. Jack and S'haar are almost back, and they're going to want answers. He can't speak if you kill him."
Ral'fen snarled at the woman. "I'm not going to say anything! You might as well kill me!"
Em'brel shook her head as she started tearing her shirt to wrap her injuries. "Maybe you won't." She then raised her head and looked her would-be assassin in the eyes. "But I'm confident S'haar will disagree with you on that, and once she gets started, I hope those were empty words, for your sake..."
She then turned to the smith. "Tel'ron, make sure he can't hurt himself or anyone else before they get back, will you?"
Tel'ron grinned and grabbed Ral'fen's other hand. One loud snap and another scream later, Em'brel finally started limping off to treat her injuries.
-
Ger'ron walked into the room. It looked like someone had started trying to clean the place but had given up. Sitting in the corner was Em'brel, her arms wrapped around her knees as she cried to herself.
The old guard had no words to magically make the pain and fear disappear. So instead, he just righted a chair near enough that Em'brel could reach out for him if she wished but far enough that she could keep to herself if she chose. Then he waited.
Far sooner than he thought, Em'brel seemed to calm herself as her breathing evened out. Finally, the girl lifted her head, her eyes red from tears, but her face was surprisingly dry. "How's Jar'maal?"
Ger'ron laughed and shook his head. "After everything you just went through, again, and that's your first question?"
Em'brel just continued looking at him earnestly, and Ger'ron sighed. "He's fine, for now. Just a nasty gash on the back of his head and some badly bruised tendrils. He's not going to be very happy once I start my lessons on the importance of attentiveness when acting as a bodyguard, but it's evident that it's past time for that."
The old guard's face softened. "But I'm sure he'll be glad to know you asked. More importantly, how are you?"
Em'brel smiled or at least tried to. Her expression didn't fool anyone though. "I'm fine. Most of my injuries are superficial. My arm is a bit more serious, but Angela has a stock of something called 'antibiotics' that will prevent it from getting worse while it heals. A bit of time and care, and I'll be back to normal."
Ger'ron's expression hardened. He wasn't going to let the girl dodge the question. "That's not what I meant. How are you doing?"
Em'brel's expression slipped, and she was clearly fighting back the tears again. "I don't…I don't know… First the raiders, then the kidnapping, and now this? How am I supposed to ever sleep again? How am I supposed to walk into a room and pretend I'm not terrified that anyone I don't know intimately is just another assassin waiting for his moment? When does this nightmare end?"
When she reached out for him, Ger'ron took her hands and eased himself down so she could grab hold and cling to him like the terrified child she was. He didn't have any good answers to her questions, so he held her close instead, patting her head and trying to offer what little comfort he could.
As word spread, more than one person looked in on them out of concern, but the quiet rage on the face of the guard who held Em'brel chased them away without a word. The only one unaffected was Lady Fea'en, who came in and silently set the room to rights. That done, she left for a while before returning with a pot full of stew and three place settings.
They ate in silence, with Em'brel sandwiched between her two friends.
-
Jack was eager to get home. It had been a far longer and more difficult journey than he'd planned, but the end was in sight as they approached the Outpost.
His reverie was interrupted by Angela's voice cutting in over his headset. "Jack, something's happened. Things have to change. We need to have that talk. Now."