Firemoon (14 page)

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Authors: Elí Freysson

BOOK: Firemoon
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Linda was no warrior. She had learnt basic self-defence in case she needed it, but her role as a Shade would simply be to keep her eyes open, shelter agents and bring up the next generation and teach them the ways of the secret order. But she took her role seriously, as Katja was reminded at seeing her friend nod. The fear had probably not gone away, but was now overshadowed by determination.

“Well, then you are lucky to have me,” she said. “Now finish your bath and I shall show you the city and describe the situation to you.”

9.

 

Katja finished washing, unplugged the bottom of the bath, dried herself and put on Linda’s underclothes. They fit tolerably, though Katja had far more muscle than her petite friend. They didn’t interfere with her mobility, and that was the most important issue.

Then she put the leather back on and strapped on the sword and knives. The javelin would stay behind. The rest ought to do for a stroll.

Katja asked for a hat or a hood or something that could obscure her face from view without being obvious about it, and Linda brought out a few hooded cloaks. They were quite popular in the city and no-one would be particularly suspicious of Katja for wearing the hood up.

“People have been flooding in for two days,” Linda said once they were outside. “Ever since we heard of the attack on the fort. The latest news speak of further attacks on villages and farmsteads. It may have been this party you said had gone up into the hills.”

“Perhaps. Unless there was more than one.”

Linda led her south along the streets of Pine City and pointed out the more notable locations they passed. She went over what she had learned of her new home since moving, as well as how the lead-up to the war had looked like from the local point of view.

“There are apparently whispers that some wish to be part of Valdimar’s realm,” she said as they approached a choir of bleating and mooing. “But most are very proud of being independent, and those who achieved it through blood and sweat are celebrated. You can see what prosperity it has brought to the city.”

They came to a rather large square which was filled with every kind of livestock. Ropes of varying thickness had been stretched back and forth to cordon off the square and try to keep the beasts under control. Weary-looking people walked among the animals to tend them.

“I heard the word ‘food-square’ yesterday morning and it seems to have entered common usage,” Linda said. “But better that all this feeds us, rather than Valdimar’s men.”

“Aren’t there decent food stocks?” Katja asked as they walked past the loud, foul-smelling spectacle.

“Yes, Hrolfur had a lot of wheat and barley purchased,” Linda said. “But it will not last forever.”

“Nor will all this,” Katja said. “I suspect our enemies will not sit on their asses and starve us into peaceful surrender.”

Linda looked at her and again the fear shone through. Katja felt for her and regretted her own words, even though they were the truth. Katja could defend herself and take part in the struggle with sword in hand. Linda was not so fortunate.

“No, perhaps not,” her friend admitted. “Not if they are at risk of Duke Kjalar coming up behind them.”

They headed towards the harbour, among quite a lot of high-strung people who seemed to be struggling to re-establish some order in their lives.

“Have you heard anything about all that?” Katja asked. “Do you know whether he intends to aid the city?”

“The duke has benefited from trade with Pine City,” Linda replied. “And the city’s independence has enabled him to control his territory without being challenged. But there are some doubts as to whether he can gather enough men for the task, and regardless of pretty words of friendship, much tends to change when danger is afoot.”

“But he is...” Katja fell silent, looked around and waited until they were alone for a moment. “One of you.”

“How
much
so will have to come to light when your mentor brings him the truth of the situation.”

“Yes,” Katja said and now felt a strong dread herself. What had become of Serdra after they parted? Had she reached the border fort, or had she swerved off that course and headed towards Kjalar?

Before them lay the harbour area.

The refugees lived in tents, some of which were held up with hastily erected frames. Katja saw no particular organization in the camp, though someone had clearly ensured there was one clear route through. The harbour itself was quite big, but the city wall almost met there, and the opening the ships passed through was rather narrow. That would make it all the easier to defend if Valdimar’s army somehow got its hands on a fleet. As they walked further in among tents, docked boats and buildings she saw additional piers outside of the wall.

“Do you know if there are any plans for this mass of people?”

“All carpenters have been called out to aid in strengthening defences and put war machines together. The chancellor’s people have also been seeking out stout men to add to the militia and blacksmiths are working hard at making spears for them. Other than that, well they are of course being fed, mostly with large soup cauldrons.”

Katja wasn’t all that satisfied.

“Given the prelude to this mess, it seems like more should have been done.”

“Perhaps so,” Linda said and sighed. “But Hrolfur is ill. And I am not familiar with the details, but there were some discussions between him and Valdimar. One hoped, of course, that things wouldn’t reach this stage.”

“How sick is he?”

“Little has been heard about that from the man himself, but he has not been seen much in public lately. I have only seen him once since I arrived here, and he looked terribly drawn.” Linda was silent for a few steps. “It would be bad if he passed now,” she then said. “Hrolfur is well-liked, and his death at this point would be a blow to people’s morale.”

“Yes, most likely,” Katja said. “And that is probably something that,” she glanced around, “that a Brotherhood agent would have given thought to.”

Linda nodded.

“He... does have bodyguards, of course.”

Can they defend him from sorcery?
Katja thought to herself, but stayed quiet.

“But as you can see, attacking here would be quite the undertaking,” Linda said and pointed at the harbour as they were leaving it behind.”

“Yes. Look, I know you are no general but have you heard people say anything about how the battle is expected to be waged?”

Linda let out a nervous laughter.

“They hardly speak of anything else! But anyway, there is no point in attacking the northern side,” she said and pointed. “The ocean is only a few steps from the wall, and it’s mostly rocks over which one cannot move war machines, and men with ladders would be terribly exposed.”

“The city was built with defence in mind.”

“Probably. But as for the south side, the terrain is not as difficult there but still hardly ideal. And you can see that one.”

Linda pointed at the tower up against the southern wall, which stood on a cliff and so loomed over everything else in the city.

“It’s hard not to.”

“There are war machines on top of it and an almost infinite supply of ammunition, and the soldiers there have a perfect view of attackers by the wall.”

Katja thought.

“And given all the trade that passes through this city, Valdimar ought to have heard of that fact. So this will all probably revolve around the western side.”

“Yes, that is the consensus.”

“At least that makes things simple.”

Not necessarily easy, but simple.

“Who leads the army, with the chancellor so sick?”

“That would be Captain Jormundur. Hrolfur gave him the position after his father died. The father seems to have been highly thought of and Jormundur has inherited some of that, but there are some divided opinions on him.”

“Oh, how so?

“He has drilled his warriors ferociously lately and is felt to have done a fine job of it, but many feel he doesn’t respect his own title enough.”

“Oh, doesn’t he bow to himself or something?”

Linda smiled and shook her head. Katja suspected that this well-behaved, prim young lady had missed her impudence.

“In short, he is not felt to be dignified enough. He is known for speaking bluntly, dressing casually and visit loud taverns with his friends in the evenings. He is by accounts not fond of formalities.”

“Formalities are a waste of time for self-important people.”

Linda laughed.

“But to get back to the subject, he has been more visible than Hrolfur. It was Jormundur who had all carpenters and smiths summoned, and he is the one organizing the militia.”

“It’s good that he seems to know what he’s doing.”

“Yes.”

They were heading to the gate, but Serdra had frequently exhorted Katja to mind her surroundings. So she made an effort to get a feeling for the street layout, and asked Linda to take her through all the main streets and at least point out the side streets.

The walk stretched out and it was getting dark by the time they finally arrived at the inner gate. People were not banned from going up on the wall, and they ascended the stone steps. Two soldiers walked their patrols on either side of the gate so they leaned forward on the parapets and waited for privacy.

“And there the killing will begin,” Linda whispered softly, almost as if she were speaking to herself and looked towards the outer gate. Various kinds of war machines were being set up and Katja saw groups going through drills.

She wanted to say that the killing had already begun. It had begun with sorcery and a massacre in the little fort, and had probably continued in the border fort. Thousands of feet were most likely marching their way, singing along with the squeaking of wheels and the bellowing of animals and a constant clinking of metal.

War was headed their way. An ancient beast made up of thousands of individuals forming a whole, except now an unnatural poison was hidden in its heart, making this beast even more dangerous than usual. And once it carried onto the wall the noise would probably be deafening.

Katja stared at the activities by the gate, heard the hammer blows of blacksmiths and could smell boiling tar and freshly cut wood, and felt her own smallness. She kept those thoughts to herself though. She had been sent here to aid, not break down morale.

“There my Brjann has been all day,” Linda said and pointed at the working carpenters. “I hope he will be able to come home soon. Exhausted people should not be doing this kind of work. It invites accidents.”

Katja leaned further onto the parapet to take the weight off her feet somewhat.

“We should probably head back ourselves. I...” she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, “need to sleep on this. All of this. I will see what I think of in the morning.”

“Yes. I shall cook a good dinner.”

“I can help.”

They descended.

“Nonsense, you are a guest. Just relax and I will take care of things.”

They headed home, and Katja sat in deep thought as Linda stoked the fireplace and began preparing a meal. The door opened, and in walked a thin young man with a broad face and blond, shoulder-length hair. He was sweaty and leaned up against the door after closing it. Noticing Katja took him a moment.

“Brjann, dear.”

Linda glided out of the kitchen in her apron and embraced her husband. They kissed and Katja stood up as they turned towards her.

“My friend Katja has come to aid us,” Linda said as Katja walked up to them.

“Katja?” Brjann said with some surprise, and held out his hand. He knew the name but clearly hadn’t been expecting a visiting Redcloak. “It is... an honour to have such a guest beneath my roof. You are welcome.”

Katja shook his hand. It was hard and dry from all the carpentry, and held considerable strength.

“My thanks. I will do my best to be worthy of it.”

She released his hand, and Linda touched Brjann’s cheek and turned him to face her.

“Brjann. Blossoms was attacked.”

They moved into the kitchen and Linda repeated Katja’s story. Brjann showed a certain relief to know that his parents and siblings had survived, but Katja could still tell what a blow the news were. Linda poured wine in mugs before serving dinner.

“Patrekur carried me on his shoulders,” Brjann said quietly, mug in hand.

He drained it in one long gulp.

They dined together without saying much. Afterwards they sat down before the fireplace with more wine. Linda brought out a small harp and began playing a soothing tune.

It suddenly occurred to Katja that things were like this in homes all over the city. Ordinary people who desired peace and a normal life, preparing for the coming blow. This was what she would be defending.

“Let us go over the situation,” she said. “Do you have any allies here in the city?”

“We have friends,” Brjann said. Either the wine was relaxing him or he was not the type to display grief to a great extent. “But no allies or contacts who know the Silent War or our order. That was partly why we settled here, to widen the network.”

Katja tried not to show her disappointment.

“So we cannot seek anyone’s support?”

“Well,” Brjann had a sip and looked at his wife. “Not without risk.”

“How are things going by the gate?” Linda asked as she gently plucked the strings. “How are the defences coming along?”

“They are coming along rather well,” Brjann said. “We have plenty of lumber and the working crews have been organized well, so everything is quite efficient. Given two more days we will be able to greatly strengthen the city’s defences.”

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