- Red Smoke, White Smoke
Lyrianna crouched down behind a patch of tall grass, conscious that her combination of exposed flesh and gleaming bright steel was not especially inconspicuous. She glanced across at Alaric. All his metal plates on his pauldrons, vambraces, faulds and helmet were covered in a thin layer of dark brown leather. He was made to blend in while she was made to stand out. Somehow she already knew how this would play out in a battle.
“How did they get in?” Lyrianna asked.
“Good question.”
The gates were intact but as they moved round they saw there were at least three breaches in the circle of wooden stakes. Lyrianna frowned. Either Ramsford had fallen into such decay that no one bothered to maintain the defences any more, or somehow something had breached them.
“Battering ram?”
“Could be,” Alaric conceded, frowning as she was. “But their gear looks like simple bandits. Since when did bandits lay sieges?”
“Since they got desperate?”
“Could be… if the clanless are being driven south then there’d be more scarcity than ever.” He shook his head. “Matters not. They are on Order grounds and stopping our caravan from passing. They need to be driven out.”
“I thought you’d say that.”
Alaric drew out a sealed leather container and fished out a bowstring that he attached at once.
“You should lead the charge.”
“I thought you’d say that too.”
They moved to an outcrop of rocks within a determined dash to the nearest breach in the wall. There they waited until the caravan moved close to arrow range, fully absorbing the attention of the bandits patrolling the walls. Alaric drew an arrow ready.
“Ready…” The caravan moved nearer. The clanswomen stood, raising their bows in turn as around the caravan there were shouts to stop. “Now!”
Lyrianna accelerated, the brothers formed up either side of her slightly behind so they formed a wedge of shields. The bandits on the walls scrambled to stop them before they reached the breach. There was a sharp, wet twang and an arrow flew past her head from behind, sailing up and into the chest of one of the bowmen on the walls.
The ground pounded beneath her feet, the gap in the walls came near and a second bowman came tumbling down with a shaft protruding from his neck. They were inside.
From every direction, men were scrambling down to block the breach. Lyrianna felt the air move around all of them, felt their motions and intentions washing over her. She ducked her head; an arrow thudded against her shield with a dull thump. The archer drew again and Lyrianna charged him. This time the arrow hit at an angle and skidded off the face of the shield with a high, metallic skirr. He drew again. He was close. Lyrianna sprinted and threw her shield forward, knocking into the archer’s face before he could complete his action.
Now she was surrounded. The brothers and Alaric had drawn one group, the remainder were coming for her. A bandit charged her, time seemed to slow, just as intended he saw her bare midriff and lunged. Lyrianna turned her hips, drew her arming sword and deflected the stab. The clash sent a jarring vibration up her arm. Meanwhile the man’s momentum continued to take him forward. She raised her right vambrace and his nose collided with the steel. She felt the wet crunch of cartilage. His head jerked back. Lyrianna followed up, punching her sword pommel onto his forehead and smashing him to the ground.
Instantly, she felt the movement behind her. She turned; the axe swung where she had been, she was spinning low and slashed across the back of the man’s knee, crumpling him to the dirt at once. The man’s roar cut off as his knee buckled. With no pause she felt the next attacker move on her while she crouched. In one movement, she rose to intercept with a high parry, and whipped out her falchion in her right hand to sever through the inside of his swinging arm.
The bandit shrieked and grabbed at the spray of blood. Lyrianna turned, sensing another attack, and kicked out the new bandit’s knee, breaking his attacking stride. He stumbled, she cracked her sword against his hip in a backstroke and continued to circle behind him, coiling her right arm around his throat with the edge of her falchion facing inward. “Drop!”
The bandit complied at once, letting go of all weapons. Behind him, the archer was trying to draw again. Lyrianna turned with the man still in her grip and hurled him into the archer, knocking both to the ground with a dull thump.
Scrabbling desperately, the archer reached for the bow clattered from his grasp. Lyrianna crunched down with her foot on his outstretched hand and kicked the bow out of reach. A brief, agonised yelp was lost in the silence that followed.
The air around her seemed to still. She looked around. There were five men in the dirt around her, the rest of those who were still standing had surrendered to Alaric and the brothers. Her heart gradually slowed and she became aware that everyone on both sides was looking at her. She smiled, twirled her sword and strode away from the trail of wreckage she had created.
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Alaric ordered those left standing to move away from the pile of dropped weapons. Arn and Donal stood ready in case any of them tried to change their mind about their surrender. Alaric dragged one of them onto their knees. He had clearly identified him as the leader.
“How did you take this place?”
The bandit leader scowled and coughed. “We didn’t. It was abandoned when we got here.”
“Do not try to lie to me,” Alaric warned.
“I’m not. See for yourself.”
Alaric nodded to Lyrianna. She sheathed her sword and started to look around the fort. The air inside the walls was oddly still and smelled of cold ash and old wood. The first obvious thing to look for was corpses of the people who should have been here. There were none in the open areas.
She walked into the main hall. Still no bodies. No food either except for the chunks that had fallen on the floor and been finished off by rats. The silence of the hall was heavy, broken only by the faint skittering sound of the vermin. Up sets of winding stairs she came to the sleeping quarters. The beds were unmade. People had slept in them but not had time to tidy them afterwards. A faint, residual human warmth seemed to linger in the linen, but the room itself was cold.
Not wishing to leave the others with the bandits too much longer, she concluded her initial search and returned to the muddy courtyard. “There’s no one here. No bodies, unless they’ve been hidden.”
Alaric peered down at the bandit leader. Both he and Lyrianna knew that rightly they should take him in chains to Moonhold, or at the least deliver him to Foxfell so someone else could collect him. That was not possible now. The caravan had to keep moving and they needed them to be present. Alaric furrowed his brow. “Get your people and fuck off out of here.”
The bandit leader didn’t argue. It was a good deal compared to other options he might have expected. He was wise enough not to try to argue for a return of their weapons. Immediately, that gave Lyrianna an idea. She examined what they left behind and then, once the train of bleeding, bruised, and limping bandits were gone, she went straight in search of Ramsford’s armoury. She found it below the stables. There were racks where weapons and armour would have been kept. All of them were empty.
Alaric found her on her way back. “What are you looking for?”
“Weapons, armour, stores. They’re all gone. The bandits didn’t take it. That gear they were using wasn’t Order standard.”
“That’s good. That means whoever was meant to be here likely got out with supplies before the bandits arrived.”
“Then if not the bandits, what caused them to leave?”
Alaric hummed uncertainly. “Something that can break through walls.”
“Is it safe to stay here? It hasn’t gone well for the last two occupants.”
“No… but they didn’t have you.” Alaric grinned.
“So you think Master Maldron wasn’t mistaken now?”
“Never said he was…” Alaric laughed. “But one thing… were you trying not to kill those men you fought?”
“If I can defeat someone without killing them I will.”
“That’s a good principle… but we don’t kill for blood lust or cruelty. Sometimes, it is the only way we can be safe.”
“None of the men I bested were able to raise a weapon when I finished with them. But I am not responsible for their deaths either. That seems better to me.”
“The man you cut through the arm. He lost a lot of blood. Without food and warmth he won’t survive two nights. The men you crippled will slow down their companions. They will probably leave them to die within the week.”
Lyrianna felt her insides go cold. Her teeth clamped against each other. “Why are you saying this?”
“I say this so you know that mercy only comes in fractions here.” He led her back to the light outside. “When we took the weapons away from the bandits, we may have condemned them to death also.”
“They don’t have to be bandits.”
“No…” Alaric shrugged, “but I doubt they would agree.”
The signal was given and the caravan advanced safely through the front gates, the great aurochs snorting and grunting as it pounded from the ford into the courtyard. The clanswomen hopped down from their perches and walked towards Lyrianna expecting new orders. She examined the walls that had failed to protect the bandits. None of the guardians of the caravan would be resting much tonight.
Later, the moon was full and bright. The twins were right. It didn’t appear especially yellow. She could definitely remember the hue being more vivid. Many things could influence that. Cloud cover, reflections from the ground. Dust. The Monastery was full of tomes dedicated to the precise variations of the moon cycles. She smiled to herself. Wolves were not howling yet and it could be decades or centuries until they did.
Iona appeared on the wall. “Brother Alaric told me to take over your watch.”
Lyrianna nodded and returned to ground level where Alaric was waiting for her. “Before we go, we need to do our duty. Perhaps you would like to be the one?”
“Ah, a rite of passage.”
“In a sense.”
Out of Ramsford they found a winding path. It was hidden as such, merely one no one would think to follow unless they knew where it led. The lift resided behind a ledge blocked from view by some of the larger pines. Lyrianna went first this time, ascending up towards the stars at the moment they started to fade. At the top, there was another brazier and by the time she had lifted Alaric to join her the eastern sky had started to bleed with streaks of gold.
Alaric lit the fire and passed her the tube filled with the fine powder. “Are we right to warn people off?”
“Ramsford is not secure. People need to know that.”
Lyrianna began to pour and the fire grew in excitement, throwing up crimson and amber sparks followed by a trail of rising vapour almost blood red in colour. It was anything but subtle; that was the point.
She looked down the road to the south, wondering who might see their signal. Within moments there was a response. White smoke poured out from between the high crags. The message was plain; come to us.