As the hooves of the horses struck the frosted grass, brittle after a bitterly cold night, small puffs of white erupted into the air in their wake. It was as though the scouting party was being chased by a small, white cloud that clung to their heels, desperately trying to keep up.

  The six riders crossed the fields within Fort Mavour’s boundaries, passing stone monuments used as markers and watch towers with bells hung from their highest point, lookouts keeping a watchful eye for monster incursions.

  Judd had to keep a fairly tight rein on Xenon as the stallion wanted to charge to the front and take the lead. Judd only had to whisper ‘wild cat’ for the stallion to curb his speed a little. He found the open air of riding, the companionship without the claustrophobia of his soldier riders to be a refreshing change after the stifling air of Fort Mavour. It wasn’t that they hadn’t been hospitable but there wasn’t a single breeze or stirring in the air within the fort. Judd had read a story about a tomb of a lost king and he imagined it would be a little like the atmosphere within Mavour, complete with spiderwebs and dust.

  “LaMogre!” He looked over at Captain Chael who waved towards an outcrop of land.

  Judd nodded and changed Xenon’s heading to climb the rise of land, feeling the stallion’s powerful legs dig his hooves into the incline in order to reach the top. Judd remembered Mavrish’s instruction and tightened his grip with his knees and let Xenon choose the path up the hill, the other soldiers and Chael following the tempestuous stallion’s example, clattering onto the flat plateau of the outcrop.

  Judd pulled the scarf down from around his mouth that kept the icy air from freezing his lungs as he rode and whistled at the view. A large stretch of land lay between the outcrop and the endless bulk of the wall of the south. Despite their elevated view, Maul was completely obscured behind the wall and the only way Judd knew where the mount of Maul lay was from the billows of smoke that he was told drifted endlessly from its peak.

  The sun was just starting to flex its muscles, sending warm tendrils over the landscape, causing the frost to splinter and fade from the grass, the leaves and bushes until not an icicle remained.

  “We are at the very corner of Fort Mavour’s boundary.” Captain Chael announced. “This outcrop marks where Mavour’s responsibilities end and Verion’s begin.”

  “You speak of the forts as though they are people.” Judd chuckled, rubbing his hands together.

  Captain Chael shrugged, clad in armour yet Judd noticed it was bulked with layers beneath and a scarf around his neck. “They were once, as were all the forts to the south. Sir Omra, Sir Mavour, Sir Verion and Sir Callain were all knights beneath Andigre.”

  “And Fort Sol?”

  Arsch and Kipre, along with the two other soldiers that had ridden out with them, snorted in derision. “That’s not a fort…it’s a fortified village trying to grasp some of the knights of old glory.”

  Judd recalled the fate of the last knight who had been in charge of Fort Sol. “Remember that it was worthy of a knight’s commission,” he said with a grieved rebuke in his voice, “and he died defending it.”

  The soldiers were suitably chastised. Judd hoped he hadn’t overstepped his bounds but an approving nod from Captain Chael allayed his fears.

  “I’m surprised we were able to reach the edge of Fort Mavour’s boundaries so quickly.”

  “Your stallion certainly held pace,” Chael pointed out, “but Fort Mavour’s territory is spread on either side of the fort.”

  “I suppose Fort Omra only has the western side of the wall to defend,” Judd nodded, “as the eastern side is impassable mountain.”

  “Fort Mavour has also been given more land to defend because the ground does not cultivate the same yields as the land around Fort Omra.” Chael explained.

  Despite the cultivation of the land, Judd sensed it was still wild. Civilisation was just a fa?ade, the land hiding and releasing danger whenever it could. As if to remind him of that fact, Judd heard a warning bell sound twice. He twisted in his nomad saddle to the west. A plume of smoke could be seen and if he strained his ears, he could hear shouts of battle.

  “A monster incursion?” He asked and saw Chael take a spy glass from the holster on his belt. He held it up to his eye and peered through it.

  “Looks like satyrs or goblins…” Judd watched as Chael returned his spy glass to his belt, lacking any haste or direction towards the battle.

  “Should we not be lending our aid?”

  Rather than explain it himself, Chael gestured for one of the younger soldiers, barely old enough to shave, to respond. “Two rings of the bell call the soldiers closest to the site of battle,” he quoted with rigid formality, knowing his captain was testing him, “but should the bell ring forth a clamour, all soldiers must attend.” Chael nodded and the young lad breathed out, knowing he’d passed an important test.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  “Why is this so?” Judd inquired. “Not that I doubt your methods but I am puzzled why you would not have all soldiers respond.”

  “It’s a fair question.” Chael waved his hand to encompass the landscape towards the wall. “With so much land to maintain, monster attacks are frequent. In fact, the lads in the mess have a wall plaque which they hang a sign after each day there isn’t an incursion.”

  “Remember the week the sign read ‘four days since the last monster attack’?” Kipre chuckled.

  “Yeah, it was like a holiday…a really weird one.” Arsch agreed. “I think it ended that night with an ogre throwing goblins over the wall onto the fort itself.”

  “Oh yeah, that was a bad night…”

  “Anyway,” Chael eyed them and their lips clamped shut, “the rule was, when the alarm bell rings, all scramble to its location. However, there was a particularly bad incursion…in an unprotected and unmonitored location on the opposite side of where the initial alarm was raised.”

  “Wait,” Judd frowned, “after a small incursion brought all soldiers to one location…monsters invaded elsewhere?” Chael nodded. “Taking advantage of the absence of soldiers?” Chael nodded again. Judd eyed him sharply. “That smacks of an intelligence that I didn’t think monsters were capable of before my knighthood quest…unless it was a happy coincidence for the forces of Maul…”

  “I have recorded no less than two dozen times the same trick was attempted to be pulled since,” Chael explained, “and when my predecessor found a cushier position within the fort itself, my observations and strategy for dealing with it saw me elevated to the position of captain.” Judd was lost in his thoughts, the notion of monster intelligence and organisation starting to become a great concern to him. Chael continued to speak. “I made sure that my soldiers were well trained enough to handle smaller incursions and put lieutenants in charge that knew the penalty for pride and letting anything get out of hand.”

  “Very wise…” Judd mused, still distracted by his internal wrestling.

  “Fort Mavour’s soldiers are rostered and rotated across the land, all the way to the boundaries and I maintain a daily patrol ride to keep an eye on things.”

  “Sir, did you see the state of the sky?”

  Chael looked up and chuckled. “You’d think these baby faced soldiers had never patrolled through a storm before.”

  One of the young soldiers muttered quietly that he hadn’t but was silenced by his friend.

  “We should make haste if we’re to reach Mavour before it hits.” Arsch agreed then looked at Judd. “Would LaMogre care for a wager as to who will reach the fort gate first?”

  Judd chuckled and rubbed Xenon’s neck. “I doubt I have anything that would interest you.”

  “What about…if we win, you have to dine in the soldier’s mess tonight?”

  “And if I win?”

  “You get to regale us with stories from your knighthood quest.”

  “Let me guess…in the soldier’s mess?” The younger soldiers nodded enthusiastically. Judd laughed. “I tell you what, I’ll dine with you in the soldier’s mess tonight regardless who wins so long as my minstrel can regale you instead of me. He’s a far better storyteller.”

  Kipre and Arsch looked at each other. “So…what about the wager?”

  Judd grinned. “Oh that? I don’t need motivation to beat you. Xenon and I will leave you in our snowflake flurry!” With that he kicked into Xenon’s flank who was already trembling in anticipation and leapt into canter down the slope then into a joyous gallop with a stride that ripped through the earth of the south, sending clods of it flying as the other soldiers tried desperately to keep up just as the first few icy drops of rain began to fall.

  If the night before was difficult to sleep because he was forced to sit up, Suvau suffered a worse night because of the scored lines from the whip upon his back. He couldn’t lean against the wall and close his eyes. He ended up slumped sideways, the clink of the chains waking him from his shallow slumber every time he moved. Before Urik ordered him to the Arena, Jole served more unappealing gruel. Suvau studied Jole for signs of a weakness, suspecting that any escape would mean the slave driver’s brute would have to be dealt with. Thankfully, though he seemed to have strength on equal footing with Suvau, he did not strike Suvau as particularly clever.

  When Jole left, Suvau slurped down his gruel quickly and accepted more mineral tasting water that was handed around, collected again from the drip in the dungeon.

  “Does anyone know what Jole’s story is?” Suvau asked, his words the first spoken for hours. Silence greeted him. “Anyone? Ermaus?” But the old man was sleeping and Suvau shook his head when one of the other slaves offered to wake him.

  “I think Jole was one of the first in the pit, before they started using us almost entirely.” Gustin shifted, his expression pained, his poorly healed arm a constant source of agony.

  “Donimede let a Terra be used as bait?” Suvau was doubtful.

  “Before this happened,” Gustin nodded at his arm, “I was waiting outside one of the gates when the captain of the soldiers brought a Terra through and said something about, ‘earning his innocence’. He went in instead of me that day.”

  “What happened to him?”

  Gustin swallowed and looked away. “It…wasn’t pretty…two ogres got through the gate before it could close…”

  Suvau glanced at the small window in the door, keeping an eye out for Urik’s lurking shadow or Jole’s bulk. He didn’t want them to hear his questions but the passage leading to the dungeon was empty.

  “Earning his innocence…possibly a criminal?” Suvau thought about this. “Perhaps Jole committed crime and survived the pit, only to become enslaved by Urik.”

  “Urik is the brains, Jole is the brute,” Oska offered in place of Ermaus’ longstanding wisdom, “between them they make one formidable force.”

  “Like you would have any chance against Jole,” Palo muttered, “you’d be lucky to survive Urik.”

  Suvau frowned, Palo’s words pointing out a nagging concern Suvau had about Oska. For one who had been in the dungeon as long as he had, Suvau noticed a distinct lack of wounds, scars or other evidence of time in the pit.

  “How long have you all been here?” He asked casually, wanting to gauge wounds to time spent in Fort Mavour.

  “Before you came, I was the newest,” Gustin shook his head at Palo, “I’m Fereak’s apology for sending him,” Palo fumed in the corner, refusing to be goaded into conversation, “the month before.”

  “Every month?”

  “Maybe. It’s hard to tell time when you don’t care about living anymore.”

  Suvau did some quick calculations. That meant there would have been up to eleven Mauls, not including his own unexpected arrival, after Oska. There were thirteen Mauls in the dungeon, apart from himself and all of them were marred or injured in some way…except Oska.

  Suvau reasoned that there might be wounds on his brother in law that he could not see…

  …but deep down he knew he was lying to himself.

  How had Oska survived so long?

  Almost thankfully Jole arrived to take Suvau away. The former weaponsmith would prefer physical danger to the unpleasant suspicions that had started to brew in his mind.