The Godling Chronicles (Shadow of the Gods, Book #3) (27 page)

“
As we speak, Captain Lanmore watches.
It must seem as if I don’t care about you. It will keep his
attention on me.” Lee clenched his fist. “Are you
ready?”

Jacob nodded.

Lee's fist connected with Jacob's jaw,
sending him tumbling to the ground. He looked down at Jacob, using
all his will power not to rush to his side. “You're on your own,
boy.” He made sure his voice carried far enough for all to hear,
then marched back to his bedroll.

“
Didn't go as well as you hoped?”
Lanmore, spoke not from amusement but from curiosity.

“
It went as expected,” said Lee. “As
you said, they have to find their own way.” His heart was aching.
He glanced over to see Jacob stumbling back to camp, holding his
jaw.

Lee bedded down, trying to slow his mind.
Thoughts of punching Jacob mingled with fears of his son being
captured, made sleep impossible. At dawn, he mustered the men and
had them ready to leave in short order. Every time he came close to
where Jacob stood, shame washed over him. But at least hitting him
seemed to have the desired effect. Twice as many recruits ate with
him during the noon respite, and Lanmore made no mention of him at
all.

As the afternoon wore on, Lee noticed more
and more buildings and houses, mostly crafted from small gray
stones, common to the region, lining the road. There were a few
farms here and there, but the fields were barren this time of year.
Lee reckoned Angrääl imported most of its food supply up the
Goodbranch, from Baltria.

An hour before dusk, the city of Kratis came
into view as six massive black spires broke the horizon. Lee saw
them very clearly, even though the city walls were still five miles
away. Lee stood in awe of the sheer scope of the city. Construction
of such magnitude should have taken decades at least, and the
skills implemented Lee had believed were only known to the master
builders long ago. Not even the ruins of the forgotten kingdoms of
old boasted buildings of such height. The city of Kratis had indeed
been the seat of power in Angrääl in the distant past, yet Lee had
never imagined as much more than a place the size of Hazrah.

Captain Lanmore notice Lee staring at the
towers. “We’ll not be going that far. Not just yet.”

“
I didn’t know buildings of such scale
were still possible,” said Lee, unable to hide that he was
impressed.

“
Kratis is being rebuilt,” said
Lanmore. “In the time of King Rätsterfel, it was the greatest city
in the world. The Reborn King has found the secrets of the
ancients, or so I’ve been told, and will see it returned to its
former glory.”

“
So it would seem,” said
Lee.

The garrison came into view minutes later,
and was nearly an exact copy of the one in Whiterun Pass, only four
times the size, and Lee guessed that it housed at least fifteen
hundred men. Lanmore halted them at a narrow road leading east just
before the fort, and ordered the soldiers to escort the recruits to
their barracks. Lee was told they were a mile west of the main
garrison. He knew this may present a problem if things went wrong,
but there was little he could do about it.

“
You will come with me,” said Lanmore.
“I need to present you to Lord Pollus, the garrison commander. He's
a bit of a pompous ass, but a competent leader. Keep quiet and only
speak when spoken to.”

Lee followed Lanmore to the gatehouse. Two
guards halted them.

“
And you are?” asked the
guard.

“
You know very well who I am.” Lanmore
stepped forward bringing his face an inch from the guards. “Are we
to do this again?”

“
I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,
sir,” he replied, with disdain. “I simply didn’t recognize
you.”

The guards smirked then stepped aside and
allowed Lanmore to pass, but stepped in Lee's path when he tried to
follow.

“
He's with me,” said Lanmore. “Allow
him to pass.”

“
Not until I get word from Lord
Pollus...Captain.” The guard stiffened his back. “Until then, he
can wait here with us.”

Lanmore glared at the guard, then stalked
into the fort. Lee waited silently. The guards didn't seem
interested in speaking, and completely ignored him. After ten
minutes, the captain returned and shoved a piece of parchment into
the guard’s chest. He motioned for Lee to follow.

“
They can't stand it when a commoner
advances through the ranks,” explained Lanmore, as they passed
through the gatehouse. “In their mind, only a lord should
command.”

Lee cracked a smile. “In my experience, if
only lords commanded, it would take a year to march an army ten
miles.”

Lanmore threw his head back in laughter. “I
wouldn't repeat that in the officers’ barracks. Especially round
those bloody Baltrian fools. Most will run straight to Lord Pollus,
to try and curry favor. And frankly, he isn't known for his
humor.”

“
I'll keep that in mind.” Hearing that
Baltrian lords would be near did not ease Lee's mind. He hoped that
they were too young to recognize him.

The main yard was filled with soldiers
drilling and marching. About three-hundred men in all. The barracks
were as high as the curtain wall, with two catapults placed on each
of the flat roofs. The keep was much larger than in the other fort
as well, standing two stories high and covered with arrow slits
capable of raining down terror inside the parade yard, should the
walls be breached. The clash of metal, stomping of boots and
shouting of orders roared through the air. Lee marveled that the
sound did not carry outside the fort, or even through the
gatehouse. The design must have held its own secrets. Even the
catapults appeared sophisticated compare to others he'd seen. He
saw only a single hand crank, and a long metal tube placed just
above the arm. Lee guessed that it held the shot. If a single
soldier could operate it, instead of the usual four, it would be a
devastating weapon. A lone platoon could wreak havoc.

The door to the keep was unguarded, and
still, Lanmore paused and took a deep breath. He flung open the
door and Lee followed him in. The gray stone floor and walls were
lined with weapon racks and maps. To his left, were three rows of
long tables, with a door at the far corner, leading to the
kitchens. To his right where he expected there to be an officers’
lounging area, were dozens of desks and small tables. Cotton and
linen clad bureaucrats were busy at their duties, not bothering to
look up as Lee and Captain Lanmore passed by.

“
Welcome to the heart of the kingdom,”
joked Lanmore.

“
This is where we take our meals?”
asked Lee.

Lanmore shook his head, chuckling softly.
“No. I'm afraid the keep is reserved for the commander and these
fine fellows. We take our meals in the barracks.”

They entered a door directly ahead that led
to a long hall, ending in a flight of stairs leading upward, then
left, to the second level. At the top, the hall split off in two
directions, each with several doors along the walls.

“
The bureaucrats stay in these rooms,”
said Lanmore. “They’re quite comfortable compared to our
quarters.”

“
A soldier has no need of comfort,”
said Lee.

They turned left for several yards, then
right, until they reached an elaborately carved mahogany door, with
a polished silver carving of broken scales, the sigil of Angrääl
attached in the center. Lee fought back the urge to smash it to
pieces. Captain Lanmore knocked firmly, then pushed the door
open.

Inside was a room with a large oak desk at
the far end and a round table on which rested various maps and
charts in the center. A long rope hung from a small hole in the
ceiling just behind the desk. To his right, a plush, tan suede
couch and four matching chairs were arranged in a semi-circle, each
with a small brass end table and facing a hearth that burned
brightly. Three polished brass lanterns hung from the ceiling
center, and two more protruded from each wall at ten-foot
intervals. Behind the desk hung a mural depicting a gleaming
champion on horseback, leading a charge against an elf army.
Between the lanterns stood an oak bookcase that held beautifully
leather-bound tomes along with a crystal decanter and glasses.

A man sat behind the desk dressed in a fine
white shirt and a red jacket. His salt and pepper hair was oiled
and combed back in regal fashion. His tan skin gleamed in the
bright light, offsetting his fragile build and narrow features.

“
Ah, Captain Lanmore,” said the
Commander. His voice was tinny and a bit feminine. “I see you have
arrived ahead of schedule. And with a new officer.”

Lanmore bowed his head sharply. “Yes,
Commander. The message said to come with all speed.”

“
Indeed, it did,” said Lord Pollus.
“And yet you chose to travel with the recruits, rather than on
horseback.” He rose to his feet. Though thin, he was quite tall –
as tall as Lee – and walked with the effortless grace of a true
noble. He sighed. “I suppose there is nothing to be done.” He took
notice of Lee, and looked him up and down. “And you
are?”

“
I am Barath, my lord,” said Lee,
bowing as Lanmore had done.

“
Just Barath?” Pollus shook his head
and frowned. “Yet another commoner.” He turned and went back to his
deck. “I suppose if Captain Lanmore deems you worthy, you will do.”
His eyes fell on the captain. “He is your responsibility and under
your command. And please...if you don't have a last name...choose
one. People will think you’re one of these native Angrääl
barbarians our gracious King has scattered among our ranks.
Dreadful people.”

“
You will be pleased to know that
Barath fought one before we set out,” said Lanmore.

Pollus raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? And
you survived. Impressive.”

“
He did more than survive,” said
Lanmore, puffing out his chest. “He defeated him as if fighting a
child.”

“
Impressive, indeed.” Lord Pollus
opened his desk drawer and pulled out a piece of parchment and
scrawled something on it. He blew the ink dry, then pushed it
across the desk. “This is your commission...Barath. If for no other
reason that ridding the world of an uncouth beast, I am happy to
give it. I left enough room for you to put a proper
name.”

Lee took the parchment, and bowed. “Thank
you, my lord.”

Lord Pollus reached back and pulled the rope.
A moment later a thin, blond boy in a dark blue tunic and trousers
scurried in.

“
Show this man downstairs,” Pollus
ordered. “He is to be given a commission under Captain Lanmore.” He
waved off the boy, dismissively. “As for you, captain, I will speak
with you now.”

He looked sideways at Lee. “I will join you
as soon as I can.” He then turned to the boy. “If I am not down in
time, show him to the barracks when he's done.”

Lee bowed one last time and followed the boy
downstairs. He was shown to a desk where a scrawny wraith of a man
was busy scribbling on one of the many pieces of parchment piled
high on his desk. Lee handed the man his commission.

The man didn't look up but only opened the
parchment and began writing notes. “What is your surname?”

“
Drakis,” Lee replied. Drakis was the
name of a fiend in a story he heard as a child. He almost smirked
at the thought, but it was the only thing he could think of at the
time.

“
You have an odd sense of humor,” the
man said off-handedly. “And before you ask, I know that tale as
well. All men of the north do.”

Lee sat quietly as the man spent the next
half hour writing, checking and double-checking, each note.
Finally, he handed Lee a small round wooden token with the number
one painted on either side.

“
Give this to the quartermaster,” He
straightened the pile of papers on his desk. “He’ll give you what
equipment you’ll need.”

Lee stood up and turned to the door. The
blond boy was standing just behind him, waiting patiently. Half way
to the barracks, Captain Lanmore caught up with them.

“
I'll take it from here, boy,” said
Lanmore. Without a word the boy ran back to the keep. “Did you pick
a name?”

“
I'll be known as Barath Drakis,” Lee
replied.

“
A dire name to be sure,” he said with
obvious approval.

“
Will it be possible to see my nephew?”
asked Lee.

“
I thought you weren't close,” said
Lanmore. “In fact, if I recall you nearly took his head off the
last time you spoke.”

“
I would not have it end as such
between us,” Lee explained. “Though I have no great affection for
him, he is my sister's child.”

Lanmore nodded. “I'll see what I can do.
Until then, we need to get you settled in. We'll be here for three
weeks.”

“
A short time for training,” said
Lee.

“
Pollus likes you,” said Lanmore.
“Mostly because you killed Lars. But I assured him that you
understood military discipline, and also that I would train you,
personally.” He stopped and faced Lee. “Do not disappoint me,
Barath Drakis.”

“
I will not,” said Lee. A tinge of
guilt struck him. He knew that he would soon betray the captain’s
trust. And even though he was the enemy, he was beginning to
respect him.

“
Good.” He slapped Lee on the back. “I
enjoy having officers without the arrogance of nobility draped
about their shoulders.”