“We had to sacrifice most of the horses early on,” Arin explained as Vergil stared at the empty stalls. “For the meat, you see. Bloody shame. They were beautiful animals.”
“Wouldn’t they have been more useful to fight on?”
“Normally. But something spooked them bad. We could hardly get one out of the stall to be ridden.” Arin shrugged. “Nothing about this whole thing makes any sense to any of us.”
Since arriving, Vergil had either been on the walls or down in the city. He’d never explored the fortress properly. It was much larger than he imagined it. They passed several locked gates, heavy iron doors blocked with thick bars of metal and wood, propped from behind with rocks.
Even farther in, at what he assumed was the very centre of the fortress, they passed a wide opening in the ground. It looked a lot like the entrance leading down into the city proper. It was a wide ramp leading somewhere underground, flanked by twin sets of stairs.
He stopped as Arin walked ahead, and studied the strange sight. It was impossible not to. Several ballistae were arrayed around the mouth of that ramp, all aimed towards it. Soldiers manned the weapons of war. Peering down the ramp he could see a twin set of gates at the very bottom. They were made of dark iron with silver inlays covering them, like shining leaves upon the midnight-black. Like the outer gates of the fortress, these too were barred with thick iron band, each wider than a person. There were five of them in total.
“What’s that?” he asked as Arin jogged back.
“The tunnels to the Anvil,” the soldier answered. “We had to block them.”
“I’d heard of that.” During the meeting in Vilfor’s office. Even if he’d been mostly drifting in and out of wakefulness, he’d heard some of what was discussed. “I thought the tunnels were some crawl places, like fit for a couple men.” These looked as if they could allow a whole army to march through.
“Dwarven-built,” Arin said, as if that was meant to explain something. “Dwarves built big.”
? Smart lad.
? Knows ‘is betters.
? Praise ‘im, sprig!
“Come, we’re nearly there.” Arin swung is empty mug past the tunnel mouth. “It’s just past the old Guild house.”
“I still don’t know where we’re going,” Vergil said. They’d finished the coffee and Arin wore the mugs on his belt. They clanged as they walked. “Feels like we’ve gone all around the entire span of the fortress.”
It was, indeed, just a short jaunt away this time. They arrived at an area filled with straw-filled training dummies where a whole bunch of soldiers were busy practising in full armour. Several areas were left open, and a crowd had gathered around a few of them, cheering and jeering as combatants duelled inside.
“Figured a fighter like you might need a bit more exercise than we’ve had last night,” Arin said. “I suggest some sparring to work out some of that energy.”
? Lad’s ah prop’er rock heart, ‘e is.
? Take note, sprig!
? If this be ‘is idea of a good time, ‘e’s someone t’ listen t’.
Vergil laughed. When the soldier looked to him with an eyebrow cocked, he waved the concern away.
“It’s nothing.” He shook his head, laughter still bubbling up to Horvath’s displeasure. “I’m just constantly surprised by the tenacity of all of you living here. There’s a lull in the fighting, and how do you prepare for the next time? By fighting. Feels fitting.”
They skirted around the larger crowd and Arin found them an empty enclosure. Mud had been churned in there, and looked to still be fresh. “You wanna spar to first blood or to the ground?”
Vergil’s eyebrows rose. “You mean we’re sparring with actual weapons?”
“How else?” Arin asked. “Wood’s more useful to the siege engines than for us. And we’re not children.”
Of course, that made as much sense as the rest of this place altogether. Vergil loosened his sword in the scabbard as they stepped inside the makeshift arena.
“Uh, first fall then?” he offered as he pulled on his helmet. “Fair warning. I’ve never duelled before.”
“You’re no fun,” Arin complained. He also donned a helmet, though it left his face naked. He grinned. “I ain’t taking it easy on you, just so you know.”
They’d barely began stretching and already people were gathering around the enclosure. Soldiers leaned on the fence around and traded remarks.
“I bet an eagle on the new guy,” one of the men called.
“Coward!” another answered. “Who bets copper? I bet a gold piece on Arin. Empire gold, not Valen shite.”
Those gathered laughed. This was something they were used to. All of them were men and women Vergil had seen on the walls, now dressed in lighter armour in spite of the chill. Many of them were sleeveless. A few were naked to the waist, steam curling off well-worked muscles.
“New guy!” a woman called. He looked to her and barely recognized Violet. She was one of those training naked to the waist, sporting a few lines of blood on her chest. Her chestnut hair was loose and unkempt. “I’m betting two gold pieces on you. I’ll take it out of your hide if I lose.”
Roars of laughter followed. Vergil realised, with a pang of bitterness, that this is what he’d missed out on when he’d refused the Paladin Order’s option to join as a soldier. All these men and women were almost family here, and they’d welcomed him as easily as anything.
“Take off the stupid helmet,” another man called. “Horns? Ya wanna get dragged around by those?”
The commentary continued as Arin stripped of his tunic and remained wearing only a loose-fitting shirt. It made Vergil self conscious in his half-plate chest piece, especially since he was wearing beneath the thread-bare clothes the spiders had woven for him. His other clothes were all back in Valen or, if Tallah was right, on their way to some city called Solstice.
A swathe of warm orange light fell across their arena as the day wore on towards evening. Vergil sweated under his armour but decided against stripping it off. The anxious feeling of something going wrong still bothered him.
“First to three falls loses,” Arin called. He drew his silver sword and held it out in a one-handed grip. One of the men on the sides threw him a round buckler that he caught neatly out of the air.
Vergil drew both Promise and Biter—he’d named the axe without mentioning it to Tallah—and lowered his stance, closer to what Horvath had been teaching him. More bets were called out. He couldn’t help but notice most of the soldiers were betting on Arin.
They circled one another on the outskirts of the arena, keeping a large space between them. He’d seen Arin with a shield and knew the soldier was a strong fighter.
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? Rush ‘im!
? Head down.
? Axe up.
? Ye ain’t scrawny. He ain’t big.
? Go for ‘is throat!
He obeyed.
Muscles bunching, he leapt forward and chopped sideways with the axe.
? Atta lad. Get im!
? Show no mercy.
? Give no quarter.
? ‘Is challenge.
? Make ‘em eat th’ shield.
The crescent smile pinged off the buckler and slid off. Arin’s sword came in an arc toward Vergil’s neck. He brought Promise up and deflected the blow. Arin didn’t stagger and, instead, pushed forward with the shield, ramming Vergil in the shoulder. The soldier nearly knocked him off his feet.
? Trynna trip ye!
? Foot behind yer right.
Vergil pivoted on his left foot, duck the pommel strike Arin had brought in, and spun away to the cheers of the crowd. He blocked the follow-up sword strike with the head of the axe and repeated exactly Arin’s feint.
He struck with Promise’s pommel straight to Arin’s temple. The soldier ducked and met Vergil’s knee coming up.
The gathered crowd errupted in cheers as Vergil kneed Arin in the chest and sent him down on his ass, splashing the mud. Tallah had demonstrated that move to him, exactly, back in Valen. Vergil hadn’t been wearing armour and the sorceress had hit him so viciously that he’d been unable to breathe for several heartbeats.
Arin cursed and picked himself up.
“That was dirty,” he said, a grin splitting his lips. “Whoever taught you that one is a bastard and no doubt.”
“You have no idea,” Vergil answered.
He didn’t quite manage to catch the next flurry of blows Arin threw his way. A shield charge to draw his axe strike. Horvath cursed at him, right in his ear, when he took the bait. His axe head went downward. Vergil stumbled, raised his sword to parry the blow he expected, and had, instead, his legs kicked out from under him. He sprawled in the mud with a sad squelch and a dull splash.
Violet whistled and banged on the fence.
“Get up, boy. That was pathetic!” she jeered with the others.
Vergil did. The fight continued, both of them working up a sweat in striking, parrying, and defending one against the other.
He took the third fall when Arin demonstrated exactly why a horned helmet was a stupid piece of armour. The soldier dropped his sword suddenly, grabbed Vergil by a horn, and yanked the helmet sideways. A shield smash to the side of the head sent Vergil’s ears ringing and his balance to pot as he tumbled back into the mud.
“That helmet’s gonna get you killed!” Violent called out to him. Other soldiers agreed loudly, more gathering by the moment.
The fourth fall went to Arin. Vergil threw his axe at him as he ran to close the distance. Arin defended himself with the shield. The weapon flew towards the gathered crowd, scattering it. Arin was not quick enough to defend against the next strike. Vergil ripped off his own helmet as he rushed forward, stabbed with the sword first, was deflected, and then clobbered the soldier over the head with the makeshift club. It ran like a bell and Arin went down, more out of sheer shock than anything else.
“It works both way,” Vergil panted as he offered his hand to Arin. “Always good to have an extra cestus to rely on.”
“You’re insane,” Arin laughed. “You must be. And that counts as a club, not a cestus.”
“If you knew the people training me, you’d think I’m turning out quite normal by comparison.”
“Oy, new guy!” Violet called out, shouting the loudest out of everyone. “Why’s there a big red cock on your helmet?”
Vergil turned and grinned. “So you can call me unicorn!” That got him a roar of laughter from all those gathered, Arin included.
They took their position for the final bout. Vergil had recovered his axe from one of the soldiers watching, donned his helmet back, and took up position. Mud caked on his clothes from boots to his neck. Before he could move forward to attack, something impacted on his back and he stumbled.
Luna rushed up to the top of his helmet.
“Friend Vergil! Friend Vergil! There are bad things coming!” it screeched as it hung down over his visor.
“What?” he asked, too shocked to react.
? Duck, sprig!
Vergil dropped on his knees as Arin’s sword whistled above his head. Luna flattened on his helmet.
“Vergil, there’s a daemon on you!” Arin called. “Stay put. I’ll get it.”
“No no no.” Vergil raised his hands in warding. “It’s not a daemon. It’s with me.”
Arin’s sword stopped mid-swing, its tip aimed at Luna. The spider shivered violently atop Vergil head. It had forgotten its camouflage.
“This is Luna,” Vergil said. “It’s a friend. It’s my friend. Long story to explain.”
Murmurs sounded from the soldiers. Vergil turned and saw all of them with weapons raised. Some were halfway to jumping the fence.
“Luna, what happened? What’s the emergency?” he asked in a breath, reaching up and picking the spider from between his helmet’s horns.
“Something is digging. This one felt it. Something is coming. Beneath the earth. It is nearly here.”
The spider was speaking quickly, loudly, as if trying to make sure everyone heard.
“Are you sure?” Vergil asked.
“Very! Earth rumbles. Stone trembles. Vibrations beneath. Loud. Big. Coming.”
He looked up to meet Arin’s eyes. Arin, in turn, looked to the others. “Gather men at the tunnel gate,” he ordered before reaching down to help Vergil rise. “I hope your friend is very wrong,” he said.
They rushed away from the sparring grounds, with Arin heading for the nearest armoury. There were a pair nearby and Vergil joined him. All of the soldiers were raising the alarm around the training area, pulling people out of their work and into getting ready for an attack.
“Where did you feel this, Luna?” Vergil asked as he waited for Arin to gear up.
“While exploring. Rock sings here. Rock trembles. But rock does not tremble right. There are steps coming.” The spider went up to his shoulder. “There are voices coming. Through the rock. Many vibrations. Many voices. They come here.”
At least a hundred men joined Vergil and Arin as they arrived at the tunnel gate. Vilfor had been called for.
They all watched the black gates and waited, weapons at the ready.
Do they know Tallah’s gone? Is that why they’re using this attack?
? They come to kill in th’ daylight.
? Tired from th’ night.
? Gonna be a bloody night, mark me word, sprig.
Moments passed. Nothing happened. Murmurs rose and he felt eyes on him, all questioning. None had asked before if he was certain, but now uncertainty floated in the air.
Vilfor himself arrived some time later, running in full plate to join them in surveying the gates. He looked at Vergil, then at the immobile gate, and finally at all those gathered. Other soldiers joined, the veterans, all dressed for battle.
Vergil idly wondered if any of them ever slept. He’d not seen any yet take as much as rest somewhere.
“Are you sure?” Vilfor asked Vergil. He had his gigantic axes in hand, holding them as easily as Vergil held Promise.
“Luna thinks something’s coming,” he answered honestly. He couldn’t be sure but trusted the spider’s senses.
Vilfor turned and bellowed at some of the men in the back rows. “Bring everyone! Raise the alarm in the city below. All able bodies are demanded—”
The gates shook with a boom. The earth reverberated in answer.
A low, deep growl passed through the black gate. Vergil felt it in the pit of his stomach and in the hollow of his chest. Whatever had reached the gate was horribly big. He swallowed the lump in his throat.
Vilfor listened some more, back straight, chin up. In the warm light of afternoon, he was a heroic statue for a moment. Then he bellowed.
“Get everyone here! Now! If they can hold a weapon, they can come and fight!”
Men scrambled to obey as the vanadal advanced to the lip of the ramp. The ballistae were all aimed down at the still locked portal.
Vergil, in spite of himself, advanced and stood next to the commander of the Rock.
Another boom blasted out of the hole, and the gates shook.
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