Chapter 63
Out of the Frying Pan
The two spires of Twin Garde appeared first, looming up from fog like a pair of grey spirits in the sky. The iceraft glided, carried by the winds, along the flat stretch of ice. Daegan could make out the outlines of the surrounding pine trees. On the horizon. Through the misty haze, the whole area looking washed out like a faded painting.
“Place has seen better days,” Rowan commented as the battered battlements of the keep coming into view.
“Been a lot of trouble up in Twin Garde last few months,” Ardy put in.
“I’d heard,” Rowan replied and left it at that. Daegan leaned back on the bench. Tanlor resting beside him. The man had been coming in and out of consciousness for hours.
Twin Garde was built on a rocky outcrop on the north shore of Nortara. It was the largest military post that the Dukedom had on this side of the frozen lake. There was a small dock with a handful of icerafts already docked.
Ardy pulled on a series of levers and the wheels of the raft clunked out lifting the runners off the ice. Daegan watched the man’s actions with interest. They hadn’t needed to stop at any stage of their journey across the ice. It wasn’t like there was anywhere to stop at. When it had gotten too dark to continue, Ardy had simply taken down the sail and let them slowly glide to a rest and they’d slept cramped together under blankets on the floor raft. Now, Ardy retracted the sail and allowed the momentum the iceraft had to carry them closer to the docks. Neither Rowan or Ardy seemed concerned with the rapid speed of their approach and Daegan suppressed his worry.
“Hold on,” Ardy called out. Daegan saw Rowan grab the siderail firmly with one hand and planted a strong palm on Tanlor’s chest to hold the man in place. Daegan gripped the edges of the bench just before Ardy pulled on a wooden lever. There was a loud screech as the brakes clamped onto the wheels. Locked in place the wheels still glided over the ice and Ardy pulled another lever which angled the raft, controlling the swerve and maintaining course.
Then, in a fluid motion, the Aeth man stood up and kicked at a metal box at the edge of the raft. The box tumbled of the edge of the rail and made a loud thump as it fell heavily onto the hard ice. Daegan’s mind flashed with the image of the box cracking through the ice and the raft sinking into the frigid waters. A metal chain affixing the box to the raft, it rattled as more of it was pulled out of the raft. An anchor! The solution was so mind-bogglingly simple.
Daegan gripped hard onto the bench and braced for the…
He lurched forward. His head whipping as the raft was abruptly pulled into a swerve. It glided around the anchor in a dizzying spin until eventually coming to a stop. Daegan felt like he was going to vomit. He’d lost count of how many times the raft had circled about the anchor.
“Is that the only way to stop this thing?” Daegan mumbled.
“Only way that doesn’t involve tipping the raft over,” Ardy replied jovially.
“Surely you could just pull in the sail earlier?”
“Nah,” Ardy pulled out a long stick, “too hard to time it right, we’d end up too far away,” the stick had flat end like a hammer, which was wrapped in cloth with some kind of liquid on it. Ardy pushed it against the ice and the raft was slowly pushed forward.
“You, muscles,” Ardy said to Rowan, “you can probably get us into dock quicker than me.”
“We all have our roles to play,” Rowan replied and made no move to take the stick from the Aeth. Ardy mumbled something under his breath and continued working, slowly directing the raft into the dock. It was an arduously slow process. Ok, I get the reason for the anchor now. It would’ve taken them hours to push this rig to the dock if they’d been left any further out on the ice.
There were four soldiers already waiting on the docks for them. Their tabards were blue with two light grey towers for the insignia. Each of the four had the Rubanian style warriors cut, shaved at the side with a braid top similar to Rowan and Tanlors. The man at the front had a red beard and face so weathered that it was unlikely the man had ever been indoors.
Daegan thought back to the group of deserters that they’d killed only two weeks before. They’d come from Twin Garde. They’d spoken of mutiny in the place.
“Twin Garde welcomes you,” redbeard said, “state your names and business.”
“Name’s Rowan,” Rowan stood up on the raft, “this my brother, Tanlor, and our employer, Desmond,” he indicated to the other men, “Des is a mapmaker, he’s charting the area.” Daegan waited in anticipation for the ridicule on the ridiculousness of his task like he’d been greeted with in another towns. To his surprise, the man didn’t make any comment on it, just a simple nod.
“Rowan and Tanlor…” the man mused, “are you Taran Shrydan’s boys?”
“That we are,” Rowan beamed back.
“Name’s Mika, from Heronsbridge. I was in Duke Buran’s contingent in the Balfold. You boys were there, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Aye,” Rowan replied.
“Showed up in good time then. Can’t say we’d have held on much longer.”
“It was a good fight,” Rowan nodded, then his eyes drifted up to the damaged walls of the keep. “I’d heard there was trouble up here the past few weeks,” Rowan commented, “I’d heard Commander Sheeth was killed?” Mika’s gaze followed Rowan’s over the keep and he sighed.
“Aye,” Mika replied sadly, “he’s dead.”
“What happened?”
“There’s been a lot going on up here.”
“Rakmen?” Those deserters had said they’d been involved with Sheeth’s death. Daegan kept his mouth shut and let Rowan continue to lead the conversation. He was likely trying to figure out who was now in control before making the man aware that they’d killed some deserters on the road.
“More than ever before,” Mika spat, “been coming down further too. Sheeth sent out a big hunting party, trying to route out their camps and push them back to the hills…”
“Some didn’t agree?”
“Aye, some… Cowards. Most of ’em here because they’ve no place else to go. Not real soldiers. Krast, Hovis and Ox, they’d not been happy with how Sheeth had been running the place and they’d collected a few of the others that wanted a change. Waited until we were all gone a week and they killed him… Took the keep and killed those still loyal to Sheeth… It was a fucking mess.”
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“Who’s in control now?” Rowan asked with concern.
“Captain Crann was leading the expedition to rout out the Rak. He was… not happy when we came back… ten days trying to take back our own castle from our own fucking men. Crann though, he wouldn’t give in, not after what them bastards did to Sheeth. On the tenth day we finally got through the gate. He’d had Hovis hanged but Karst and Ox had managed to slip out with some others before we’d come back. All those that’d supported Hovis—well, Crann had no sympathy for ‘em and had each one of ‘em beheaded, those that didn’t run before we got back that is… rest of us left were all loyal to Sheeth and we’re happy to follow Crann now.”
“A waste,” Rowan shook his head.
“Aye, we should be fighting the Rakmen, not killing each other.”
“There’s still some of the deserters out in the woods?”
“Aye,” Mika replied, his eyes looking over the surrounding woodlands, “not found Karst or Ox yet but Crann’s got lads out scouting. Messengers sent south to Rubastre as well, we’re hoping the Duke will send more men to help hold the keep from the next Rak assault.”
“Ox is dead,” Rowan said levelly and Mika’s head whipped to him, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.
“We met him along the road, big guy. Red hair and warrior’s beard,” Rowan indicated his own as a similar, “Thick neck. Maybe forty-odd?”
“Sounds like him,”
“Was travelling with a grey haired fellow with a bow—Geral and a younger lad, Jax.”
“Aye, Geral wouldn’t have been far from Ox and Jax—well—he’s just a pup who’d made some bad choices in friends.”
“They attacked me and my companions not too far south from Urundock, and tried to rob us.”
“I didn’t think they’d fall so low so quick,” Mika grimaced, “Crann’ll be relieved to hear this. He was worried the deserters would turn bandit soon enough.”
Daegan noted how Rowan specifically excluded mentioning Shye but again decided it was best to continue allowing Rowan to lead. Rowan went on to explain how his brother had been injured in the fighting—opting to allude that it was the fight with Ox and the other deserters that had led to Tanlor’s injury—and explained how he needed healing.
Not long later, Mika was leading the three of them through the keep’s courtyard and up one of the round towers. Rowan and Daegan each supported Tanlor’s weight. The man’s eyes had a dazed cast over them. Ardy was left at the docks to tie up his raft and check over it. The man would likely be quick to find his way to the only tavern in the outpost soon enough.
They carried Tanlor up to the infirmary where they laid him down on a bed and explained the head injury to the healer. The healer was a tired-looking, bespeckled and grey-haired man, who asked direct questions in quick succession.
“When did this happen?”
“Have you let him sleep?”
“Is he drinking?”
“Can he speak?”
“What hit him in the head? A hammer, a mace, a fist?…” Well technically it was a dock that hit his head… But that was hard to explain. “His head was hit a few times against the ground,” Daegan explained.
“He’s lucky,” the healer sucked a breath through his teeth, “ok, I will work on his wounds but it will take some time.”
They left Tanlor in the care of the healer, sprawled out on one of the beds of the infirmary. Mika then led them up to the Commander’s office where they were introduced to Commander Crann. The man had long hair that was more grey than black tied back in braid. and a scar that went right down the side of his face, leaving a bald patch in his eyebrow and warrior’s beard. Similar to Mika, the man did not look like he’d spent much of his life working in a command office.
“So…” Crann greeted as they entered, “I have you to thank for killing that traitor Ox, and his weasel friend, Geral. Two less men for me to worry about.”
“Commander Crann,” Rowan inclined his head respectfully and then introduced Daegan as Desmond the Cartographer.
“No offence, lad, but we don’t need map makers,” Crann said, “we need more soldiers.”
“Has there been any response back from Rubastre?” Rowan asked.
“Not yet,” Crann sighed, “truth be told, when we spotted your raft, we were hoping you were carrying news. I’ve sent requests for reinforcements to Urundock, Garron, Rubastre, Nordock… anyone who’d listen… but so far we’ve gotten nothing.”
“They like to forget about us up here,” Mika put in, “but every season there’s more and more of the Rak fuckers coming south. More of the men getting worried.”
“Aye,” Crann added, “ones that killed Commander Sheeth were cowards, to be sure, but there’s a reason they were so scared… Strange stories coming from the uplanders, stories of monsters roaming the hills. Rakmen crossing the snowfields in the droves beyond the mountains. One of my own men swears he saw a fuckin’ dogman out in the woods a few weeks back. A dogman!”
“People will always tell wild stories,” Rowan commented.
“Aye, suppose there’s stories of your old fella fighting dogmen and dragons and gods know what else… I was sad to hear about Taran’s passing, he was a good man. Very different to how the stories painted him.”
“You knew him well?” Rowan asked, his eyebrows going up.
“He’d stop by here each time he’d go north. I remember him bringing you and your brother when you were wee boys a few times. I’d heard the pair of you had grown to be good soldiers.”
“We do alright,” Rowan replied, likely knowing where Crann was leading to.
“We need good men, Rowan. We need numbers or the Rak are going to take these towers… and once they’re in, it’s going to take a lot more men to take it back. Duke’s don’t seem to realise that… or maybe they just don’t care.”
“I don’t doubt that, but I’m already on a contract,” Rowan shook his head, then nodded to Daegan.
“Aye,” Crann grunted, eying Daegan suspiciously, “not much point mapping the area if it’s going to be all Rak lands soon enough. I hope you lads aren’t planning on heading north.”
“West,” Daegan replied, speaking for the first time since arriving and finding his voice breaking as he did, “to Nordock. The maps for those areas are shockingly outdated.” He hadn't a clue what the maps were like for that region but in Daegan’s experience, cartographers always wanted more up-to-date maps of areas and could be quite pedantic about it.
“That’s dangerous territory,” Crann warned, “we’ve gotten no reports from Banford in almost a month. Last we heard there were sightings of large groups of Rakmen coming south from Shadowpeaks Pass. They’ve broken down as far as the Balfold before, my guess is they’ve done it again. You lads would be better off going straight south; to Urundock and then on to Garron, and taking the cliff road.”
“Too long,” Rowan replied, “we’ve got to be there in a week.”
“That’ll be a hard run,” Crann grunted, “you sure there's nothing I can't do to convince you to stay here and fight with us?” He directed the question to Rowan as if he hadn’t already indicated that Daegan was his employer.
Daegan couldn’t help himself from feeling pity for the man. He was stranded and abandoned in a remote outpost in a frozen, forgotten part of the world—not unlike Daegan himself. Struggling with external threats as well as fighting from within his own men and—from what Daegan could gather—the Duke’s couldn’t give two shits for this region. Daegan made a mental note to question Rowan on why the Duke’s even bothered to man outposts this side of the Nortara in the first place. And why in the hells did Duke Edmund think it would be a good idea to send me out here? The more and more Daegan thought about it, he just could not understand the man’s bizarre logic. Keep Daegan safe by sending him to an incredibly wild and dangerous part of the country.
“I feel for your men,” Rowan said, “I really do. I don’t envy the charge you’ve got up here. My brother is in the personal guard for Arch Duke Edmund. I promise you, when we return to Rubastre, we tell the Duke of your plight here.”
“I thank you for that,” Crann nodded his head, “and your cousin, Duke Boern, would he sympathise with our situation? Would he send reinforcements, do you think?”
“Boern despises the Rak… but he’s also not concerned with lands outside of his domain. He’ll rally men if the Rak break into the Balfold. But he’d not likely send any further north than that.”
“Will you speak with him?”
“I’ll do my best,” Rowan said carefully. Daegan knew that Rowan’s relationship with Boern was tenuous. He guessed that Rowan was lying, trying to placate Crann.
“I would appreciate that,” Crann observed, “Our healer might be past his prime but he knows his business and has been fixing up wounds here for longer than either of us have been born. He’ll do what he can for your brother. His injuries, as I understand, are minimal. Way I see it, we owe you that much at least for taking care of that traitor Ox. We’re not lacking in provisions, so feel free to head down to the mess hall for a meal… also plenty of spare beds now in the barracks too,” he added while shaking his head, “make yourselves at home, lads.”
“Your hospitality is a welcome change,” Rowan grinned.
“Can’t say it’s from the goodness of my heart,” Crann replied, “I need men, Rowan. Even if you’re only here for a few days, you’ve a sword and an arm to wield it.”