Dragonhammer: Volume I (26 page)

The stone of the fortress is dark, and the halls are lit by windows and torches.  Most of the windows are tall and narrow for shooting arrows through, and the ones that aren’t are paned with glass.  These windows are only up on the higher levels, however.

The guard leads us down the left hall which curves to the right.  Our footsteps echo slightly in the stone halls.  Purple tapestries bearing the white insignia of Mohonri hang on the walls at intervals, usually on either side of almost every door.  We go up a flight of stairs, though the hall continues to the left of the stairs.  Once up, we take a right through a spacious arched hall and stop in the middle.  An arched pair of double doors stands to the left.  A few ornate benches sit on either side of the doors.

“Wait here,” commands the guard.  Then he pounds on the left door.

After a moment, the door opens a crack.  The guard says, “Captain Armstrong to see Lord Archeantus.”

The guard on the inside nods and shuts the door with a few quick words that I can’t catch.  Our escort says, “He will call you in when he is ready.  I have business of my own to attend to.  Pleasure to meet you.”  He nods to me and salutes, and then strides briskly back down the hall.

“Well, here we are,” says James as he sits on one of the benches.  “Hopefully this wait isn’t long.”

“I doubt it will be,” says Percival sitting next to him.  “Lord Archeantus did request this audience.  I don’t think he’d wait much longer than he already has.”

The next moment one of the doors swings open quickly with a loud creak and a click as the lock unlatches.  A guard steps out.  “Lord Archeantus awaits your presence.”

Archeantus

W
e enter in single-file.  Though the meeting was for me, my friends decide to let themselves in anyway.  Nobody objects.

The room is ancient.  The ceiling is arched and must be thirty feet high.  Columns stand along the worn stone walls, jutting out from the bricks slightly.  Enormous purple tapestries displaying the insignia of Mohonri hang between the columns.  The room goes back at least fifty feet, and the back wall is rough and appears to be a natural cliff.  This room must actually be backed against the mountain.

At the back, a staircase only four steps high occupies the entire width of the room. A throne sits on the raised floor with a purple rug leading from the double doors to its feet.  Guards stand along the walls and in the throne sits Archeantus.

He’s tall and broad, with a muscular build.  His expression presents him as strong, though solemn.  His black beard is short and well groomed.  He wears a silver breastplate laced with lines of lavender and gold, with the Mohonri insignia emblazoned in a circle in the middle.  His cape is thin and deep violet; it’s obviously only for show, and not for travelling.  His boots are a light shade of brown.  It’s his eyes, however, that capture my attention.  They are blue like lightning, with the same power, sharpness, and fierceness.

I stand at the head of my little group, with the others standing behind me in a ‘v’ formation.  We kneel, as is custom to show respect.

“Rise,” he says.  His voice is deep and booming, especially in the acoustics of the voluminous room.  We obey.  “Dragonhammer,” he says, rising from his throne and descending the stairs.  He only stands a few steps away from me.  I notice a sword sheathed on his belt.  “You came.”

I nod.  “I could not ignore a summons such as yours, Lord Archeantus,” I reply with an air of humility, though I do have to look down slightly.

He nods with a slight smile.  “And right you are,” he says.  “Who have you brought with you?”

“This is my brother, Nathaniel.”  I gesture to each of them as I introduce them, but they do nothing.  “And my friends Percival, James, and Jericho.”

Lord Archeantus acknowledges them each with a gesture.  “A pleasure,” he says.

“The pleasure is ours,” responds Percival.  “There are not many in the army of Gilgal that get the privilege of meeting the Lord Jarl of Mohonri.”

“True,” replies Archeantus.  “But then there are not many soldiers that I get to meet personally.  It is you soldiers that are fighting on the front, and it is you I have to thank for your loyalty and strength in battle.  Especially you.”  He looks and gestures towards me with his head as he says the last two words.

“I’m merely doing what I feel to be right,” I say.

He scrutinizes me with his vibrant bright eyes.  “Of course you are,” he says quietly.  “You know why I summoned you here?” he asks.

“You said that a warrior such as I should not go unrewarded,” I respond.  “But I fail to see what I have done to deserve anything more than any other soldier would.”

Archeantus raises his eyebrows.  “You did read my letter, did you not?  You obviously did, seeing as you’re here now.”

I nod.  “I am doing what I am capable of.  Is not every other soldier doing the same?”

A smile tugs at Archeantus’s mouth.  “I like you more than I thought I would,” he says quietly.  “But I feel that you still deserve some sort of reward for your effort.  You have killed two of the most powerful leaders of the Tygnar army, saved the life of Lord Jarl Hralfar, as well as many others, and if I am informed correctly, it was your tactics the army used to infiltrate and capture Terrace and Amgid?”

I nod my affirmation.

He continues, “Then I ask if you would accept the title of Commander in the armies of Mohonri.”

I feel my eyebrows go up involuntarily.  Unhindered he persists, “A warrior of your strength and skill is meant to lead.  From what I have heard, the soldiers will follow you wherever you go because they believe you are undefeatable.  To have you at the head of an army would increase the morale of all allies, while decreasing that of our enemies.  Your tactical ability is something you have proven on multiple accounts, winning you the battles against extremely difficult odds.  Will you do me the honor of becoming a Commander?”

I think for a moment.  He sees my answer before it comes out.

“I am honored by the request,” I say.  “But I must say no.”

His eyebrows furrow.  “You will not be offended if I ask why?”

“Because I am not here to lead,” I respond.  “The reason I am here is because Lucius Swordbreaker carried out an order from Ollgorath to attack Terrace.  Because of that attack, my father was killed by one of their soldiers.  I joined only to seek vengeance.  I have found it partially.”

Archeantus nods with understanding.  “And now you seek to destroy Ollgorath.”

I nod darkly.  “I am not here to lead,” I repeat.  “I only strategize if it will help me to achieve my goal.  I’m here to avenge my father, and to do that I will kill Ollgorath.”

“That will be quite a feat,” Archeantus mutters.  “We are struggling with them in the west, though the war has reached a bit of a stalemate.  Neither of us is gaining any ground.  It will take something more to turn the tide.  Something such as you.”

“I cannot turn the tide of a war.”

He nods.  “You are capable of much more than you realize, Captain Armstrong.”

I shake my head.  “I will fight.  But, with all due respect sir, I decline your request.”

He nods.  “Very well.”  Then he turns and walks back to his throne.  As he sits down he asks, “Then is there anything I can do for you?”

Just before I answer ‘no,’ a thought bursts into my head.  “Yes,” I say slowly.  “My mother still resides in Terrace with my two brothers who still live at home.  She has no profession but motherhood, so providing for my brothers is difficult for her, especially after my father’s death.”  Pain drives itself into my heart as I utter the last few words.  Then I plow onward.  “Would you be able to help them?”

Archeantus looks down at the floor with his hand rubbing his beard.  Then he looks up and says, “I will do my best to make sure they are taken care of.”

“Thank you,” I reply genuinely.

“No,” he says.  “It is I who must thank you.  I do not dare to think what will have become of us if you had not been there when you were.”

I only nod.  “Is there a message you would have me bring back to Jarl Kjunn and Jarl Hralfar?  Orders, perhaps?”

He thinks for a moment, and then says, “Yes.  I need you to stay there.  After the death of Lucius Swordbreaker we do not know what Tygnar’s next actions will be.  Titus will have taken over for his father by this point.  He will be very angry, and that will lead to an attack.  We do not know where, but my bet is either Thrak or Amgid.  Thrak is where you will be positioned.”

“I will bring the message,” I say.  “Is there anything else?”

Lord Archeantus looks me in the eye and says, “I only tell you to continue to fight.  I respect your decision to stay yourself from leadership, but I exhort you to fight ever harder.  You are a mighty warrior, Captain Armstrong.  It would be a pity to lose you.”

“Thank you, sir,” I reply quietly.

“You are dismissed,” he says.  “One of the guards outside will show you to the quarters where you can stay the night.  You may stay as long as you like, though I see no reason for you to linger.  You may follow the other soldiers down to dinner, and I will gladly impart of my stores to you for your return journey.  Until next time, Captain.”

I nod.  “Farewell, Lord Archeantus.”

The first thing James says when we enter our quarters and the door closes is, “You turned down being a
Commander
?”

“Yes,” I reply coolly.  “You heard and you understand my explanation.”

“Still!” he says.  After I give him a nasty look, he drops the subject.

“There’s still a bit of daylight left,” Nathaniel says as he slings his pack onto the nearest bed.  We all follow suit.  “What do you say we explore the city a little bit?”

Every one of us makes a mental note of the exact location of our quarters in the keep.  Then we make our way out.

“Be back before dark,” warns one of the guards at the open portcullis.  “The drawbridge rises after sundown.”

I acknowledge his caution with a “Thank you.”

We decide that we’d like a drink, so we head for the nearest tavern we find.  People eye us as we pass, and I get a few scrutinizing looks.  There’s a gasp from a nearby window, but as I look the shutters are slammed shut.  I roll my eyes and continue down the street.

The nearest tavern happens to be called, “Drunken Bovine.”  I wonder where on earth they got such a name, but leave the subject un-discussed.

There are a few guards sitting at a table in the corner, next to the fire.  Townsmen sit at other tables, laughing riotously, gulping savagely, or sipping calmly.  The bartender takes one look at me and his eyes narrow.  His eyes dart to my left hand and then into my eyes.  “By my beard,” he mutters.  “What’s your name?”

“Kadmus,” I say.  “Kadmus Armstrong.”

His eyes widen.  “Dragonhammer?”  I don’t even need to give him an answer.  His voice raises and he says, “Dragonhammer!  In my tavern?!”  A huge grin has made its way across his face.  “No need to pay for you, sir!” he says.  “Have a drink!  And for your friends, too!”

I make to object, but he cuts me off.  “Ale?” he asks.

“I’d like to pay,” I say softly.  Every person in the tavern is looking at me, most of them whispering.

The bartender leans in, not believing.  “What?”

“I’d like to pay for my drink,” I repeat.  “Here.”  I flip him a coin and he catches it.

“Mighty nice of you,” says the bartender.  “But it’s all I can do to repay you.”

“I’m only doing my duty,” I respond.  I hardly notice the door open and more people walk in.

“Very well then,” says the bartender with a smile.  “Ale?”

“Please.”

He serves us each a tankard and we sit at a table in the corner.  Everyone still looks at me every so often, but one group of them more than others.

It’s a group of young women.  A couple of the townsmen are eying them hungrily, but the girls don’t notice because their attention is on me.  The situation makes me incredibly uncomfortable.

James notices.  “Go talk to them,” he says.

I shake my head.  “Not a chance.”

“Why not?”

“What do you think will happen, James?” I ask, a little aggressively.  He’s taken aback.  “That I’ll fall in love and marry one of them when this horrible war is over?”

“Apparently that’s what they think,” he mutters as one of them approaches.

“You’re… Dragonhammer?” she squeaks.

I nod, slightly irritated.  “That’s me I suppose.”

“Did you really… do all the things the stories say you did?”

“That depends on what the stories say,” I reply bluntly.

“I’ve heard a few things,” she hurries.  “You’ve killed some trolls, right?”

“There’s a reason I call him Trollslayer,” mutters James.  He sits on the other side of the table, so Nathaniel elbows him for me.  I give him a thankful look.

The girl continues like she hadn’t noticed.  “And you killed the Tygnar commander?  Broke into the castle in Terrace and freed many men single-handedly?”  I nod as she names things off.  “Killed Lucius Swordbreaker?”

“Yes,” I say quietly.  “That’s me.”

She just about melts into a puddle on the floor.  The other three girls at her table are staring in jealousy at her boldness.  “Well, I was wondering…” she begins.

Oh no
, I think. 
Wondering what?

“Would you be willing to spend some time while you’re in town?  With me?”

“I won’t be in town very long,” I respond.  “We’re leaving tomorrow.”  James makes to say something, but this time Percival elbows him from the other side.  He doubles over and rests his forehead on the table.

“Oh…” the girl says.  “Well, maybe tonight?”

“We have to get back to the keep soon,” I reply without making eye contact.  Then I look up at her and say, “I’m sorry.”

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” mutters Jericho.

She nods and goes back to her seat.  One of her friends pats her on the back.

One of the townsmen stands after a moment.  He walks to the girl and rests his hand on her shoulder and she looks up at him, a little disturbed.  He says something, but I can’t tell what.  She recoils from his hand, but he tightens his grip.  One of the other men gets up and approaches another girl similarly.  I only tolerate it for another second.

“Hey!” my voice barks out.  The men are startled.

“What?” says the first.

“You leave them alone,” I say darkly.

They look at each other.  “Why?” he responds.