Steel And Flame (Book 1) (24 page)

“I need some air!  You guys want to come along?  I
know Fraser didn’t tell you anything about the place, so I’ll show you around,
like.”

“That would be most kind indeed!  Marik?”

“I’m game.  Let’s go.”

The three checked their locks before Hayden led them
outside.  “Let’s go up and walk on the wall,” he said.  “We can get a good view
of the place from there.”

He talked during the walk to the southern wall,
passing identical barracks for the other squads.  “I know Fraser went into his
whole army versus mercenary band routine with you new guys and why we’re better
than both.  He’s right about that for the most part.  The real idea is to look
after your own skin like any merc band, but to support the group you’re in with
the efficiency of the army’s training.  That’s why we have all these useful
places here to get our strengths up instead of resting all winter.”

The last barracks before the wall had been built
exactly as the others.  Nevertheless, it possessed a different air.  Marik
could put no finger on why, though his immediate observation centered on the
two women sitting on the doorway steps.  No soft bulges or comely personalities
pestered them.  They were hard, lean and mean, narrowed eyes marking every man
who walked within fifty feet.

“You better not get any romantic notions or frisky
ideas,” Hayden whispered.  The warning had been unnecessary for either new
recruit.  “Not a drop of honey in there to be had.  Or wanted, for that
matter.”

“That is…” Dietrik’s voice faded, leaving Marik to
wonder what he had been about to say.

“It’s Fifth Squad.  Not many does in the band, but the
ones that do make it are all in there.”

They left behind the hawk-eyed women, reaching the
wall only a few steps later.  Marik saw a very narrow flight of steps attached
to its side.  Little better than protruding planks, they had no rail and only
two feet worth of width.  Hayden noticed his frown.

“You’ll see these every fifty feet,” he said, pointing
down the wall.  “It’s supposed to allow defenders easy access to the walls if
they need to, but still make it hard for enemies to descend without pitching
head-over-ass.  Let’s go up.”

To ascend, Marik hugged the wall to avoid
overbalancing and falling off the side.  Heights always made him nervous. 
Feeling the plank bending slightly under his weight almost made his legs
freeze.  Only the knowledge that stopping would paralyze him forever kept him
moving.

Once he reached the top, he quickly hopped to the flat
walkway, a width of eight feet.  He rested a hand atop the sharpened logs
lining both sides.  From this height he could see to the opposite wall in the
distance.  Marik could also see most of the other buildings and began picking
them out while Hayden pointed.

“Right ahead are the barracks for the Fifth through
Sixteenth Squads.  They take up most of the southeast corner of the town.  You
see over there between the barracks and the east wall?  That building in the
southern corner is a training hall.  I think both of you will be in there by
tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Dietrik asked.  “And why is that?”

“Well, you’re both D Classes in the skill arena,
right?  That’s my first impression anyway, so don’t get huffy.”

“You are correct.  But what does that have to do with
us specifically?”

“Fraser will track you two down later with orders. 
All the D Class recruits I’ve seen in the last three years get them.  The band
will take a D Class fighter, but if you haven’t improved by spring when the
fighting starts, you’ll get kicked out.  The reputation of the band won’t allow
a below average fighter to be seen fighting under its name.”

“This is the first I’ve heard of it.”  Dietrik posed
the same question Marik wanted to ask, so he nodded, stayed silent and
listened.

“Like I said, Fraser will catch you tonight.  Anyway,
that’s the training hall.  If they stay true to form, all of you D Class guys
will be in there together for the next several days with instructors.  After
that, it’s up to you to get better on your own.  The best place to do that is
the empty area north of the hall.  You see it?”

“Yes, but the trees beside the hall are blocking most
of the view.  What’s there?”

“Mostly it’s open space, but it’s called the Second
Training Area.  It’s got open ground for sparring, a slew of practice dummies
and a few different terrain types are built in.  There’s a gully on the far end
and thick trees at this end and even shacks to practice village fighting.  It
can actually be fun if you have a good training partner.”

Marik and Dietrik glanced at each other, small upturns
at the corners of their mouths speaking what words could not have.

“I can see breeze in the trees on the west side. 
Let’s walk over there while we talk.”  So saying, Hayden set off across the
wall top with his semi-students in his wake.  “You see up north past the
barracks and the training area?  That huge monster of a building is the
stables, but the Ninth Squad hardly ever uses horses.  We usually get the
closer contracts and have to walk.  That’s another thing, make sure your legs
stay in shape or you’ll regret it come spring.  And one of those buildings
behind the stables, with all the floors and windows, is the mages’ building. 
Most call it the Tower.”

“Mages?”  The question blurted from Marik in his
startlement.  “The Kings have magic users?”

Marik’s response to the mages caught Hayden’s
interest.  “Of course!  This is the best band in the whole kingdom.  A good
magic user is highly prized in the army and the Kings always go out of their
way to recruit one whenever we can.  A mage can be worth any hundred fighters
if he’s studied his practice.”

“It’s just…”  It was what?  Marik hardly knew what,
but his repulsed astonishment persisted.  “I’ve never trusted magic users very
much.”

“Good!  It shows you have good sense.”

“Meeting an enemy’s blade with your own is honest,” he
continued, struggling to articulate his feelings.  “A real test of skill and
the measure of a fighter, with the best man winning.  Using tricks and waving
your hands to win seems…dishonest, or wrong, I guess.  Besides, how can you
trust a man who might do something unnatural at any moment?”

“That’s about how I feel myself, but I have to admit
there are times when they’ve been useful to have around.  Anyway, you’ll get
into that during the next eightday.  So at least you know where their Tower is,
over there in the northeast corner.”

Marik’s gaze swept over the mages’ complex, which
could never be a tower in any sense of the word.  A building with three floors,
it looked no different from the records office building, though its proportions
were larger.  Its much smaller neighbor drew his eye.

“What is that next to the Tower?”

Hayden still strode westward, but stopped to reply. 
“Well, in the agreement the band has with the kingdom, any magical items we
find during our campaigns have to be turned over to the king.  I don’t know if
he uses them or destroys them or locks them away or nobody’s nevermind.  Also
any political or government documents recovered have to be stored until they’re
retrieved by the king’s clerks, so they’re all locked up tighter than an
innkeeper’s daughter.  That’s the safe house where it’s all stored.”

Dietrik must have felt as adrift as he did.  His new
friend commented, “I’m not quite following you on that.”

“Oh.  Do you guys know anything about the Crimson
Kings’ history?  No?  Hmm.  Well, let’s get down to the breeze before we get
into that.  Remind me when we get there.  Where was I?”  He continued his walk
along the wall, passing a man sitting on a wooden chair who smoked a tobacco
roll and gazed aimlessly down at the road.

“I believe you finished the Tower.”

“Right!  Only other important buildings on this end of
town are those there next to the Tower.  The north one is the leatherwork and
smithy; the Kings are always forging new weapons and armor and the like.  The
south one is the armory, where it’s all stored after it’s done.”

Marik frowned anew.  “The armory is next to the mages’
building?”

“Yeah.  What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.  It doesn’t seem right to make and
store blades right next to a group of mages.”

Hayden laughed.  “I suppose so!  That reminds me, you
two should stop by there soon and see about getting outfitted with any
equipment you don’t have.”

“That sounds nice.  What’s the catch?  And the cost?”
Marik asked.

“Nah, they’ll tell you all about that in there.”

They passed above the main gates.  Hayden was only
pointing out the primary structures inside Kingshome, not bothering to identify
every latrine jakes or scrubhouse.  Marik focused on what they walked past,
asking, “I was curious about this here.  This huge open area with the taverns
and shops along its edges.”  He noticed the tables where the officers had sat
were already gone, carried away as soon as the last new recruit left to join
his squad.

“Ah!  This here’s Ale House Row, as we like to call
it.  The only shops and taverns in the whole town are on the Row and they fill
up as night falls.”

Thinking that sixteen squads of a hundred men at the
full accounted for sixteen hundred men, Marik replied, “I can imagine!  How
many taverns are there?”

“Twelve.  Seven on the east side, five over there. 
The owners are the richest damned tavern men in all the kingdom.  The open land
between the rows is the Marching Grounds.  Not that any actual marching
happens, but it’s the drill area for when squads are scheduled to practice
against each other.  It’s the only space in town large enough to handle the
job.  Up at the north end is the command building.  The top officers do their
business in there, so don’t go in unless one tells you to.  Behind that is the
officer’s quarters, and behind that is the records and payroll office. 
Everyone’s favorite building!”

They neared the western wall.  The breeze stirred
while they closed.  Dietrik looked down to find four more barracks occupying
this southwest corner.  “Ah!  These must be the First through Fourth Squads!  I
wondered why they weren’t with the others.”

“They’re the specialists.  A lot of them are B Class
fighters to a various degree.”

“Specialists?”

“You saw the Ninth.  We’re all frontline fighters with
our own weapons of choice.  Pretty standard combat.  Every now and then a
contract calls for a little extra and a specialist unit has to go in.  Most of
them are ‘behind the enemy line’ type of fighters.  Hitting supply lines or
sabotaging enemies.  All the glamorous work, but also damned dangerous.  I’ll
stick to the frontline.”

“The lines are a dangerous place themselves.”

“True, but the fatality rate in the specialists always
seems higher than the other squads.  I’m not sure they’re ever full up to a
hundred men.  You see that open area between them and the west wall?  It’s hard
to see since it’s completely surrounded by those trees, but that’s the First
Training Area and it’s exclusive to them, so don’t trespass on their turf. 
They hate that.”

Hayden did not elaborate.  Marik’s gaze wandered to a
long cleared area occupying the space north of the barracks and west of the
command building.  “Is that an archery range?” he asked, picking out hay bails
and dummies at the field’s far end.

“Yeah.  You don’t have to be an archer to use the
range, so I recommend spending a few days over there.”

Past the archery field, Marik could see a large
building and open space consuming the remainder of the northwest corner.  “And
that?”

“The Third Training Area.  It’s like the Second, but
has different terrain setups and it’s larger in size.  That building is bigger
than it looks too, and it’s set up for indoor combat.  There’s small rooms and
corridors and an open warehouse mocked up in there.”

They reached the corner where a wooden lookout tower
rose a floor higher than the wall.  Their new friend opened a door and fished
around in a dark room.  A voice from inside could be heard complaining, “Damn
it, Hayden!  Knock it off!  Go find some other place to ‘cupe.  And that’s
Homeguard use only!”

“Ah, you’re not using it, so drop the martyr bit.” 
Hayden laughed, and he shut the door on the irritated reply, pulling out a
plain chair matching the road watcher’s.  A quick study found a spot where the
breeze blew strongly.  “Now
that’s
much better.  The walls are always
the best place to relax.”

The three men paused in their conversation to enjoy
the moment, light wind blowing across the wall top.  Marik could hear the town
in the silence offered by his companions.  Not quite the normal sounds he
usually heard.  No livestock mooing or clucking or filling the air with
indignant imprecations.  No wagons or hawkers emitting their creaks, moans, and
sales pitches.  Sounds from people moving about were present but in different
quantities from a bustling village setting to the tasks of everyday life.

Instead, the prevalent noise was the faint ringing of
steel on steel and men shouting across open spaces.  From his perch he could
see movement in the First Training Area, though the trees denied him clear
vision as to what exactly the specialists in there were about.