Garen: First Shield by Anthony Reynolds

Author:Anthony Reynolds [Reynolds, Anthony]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Riot Games
Published: 2020-12-05T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Whoever designed this bridge knew their business,” said Merrek, shaking his head. “There are no damn handholds in the stone, and no mortar to be carved away. Without ladders or ropes, we’re not getting past this tower.”

Garen nodded. He could appreciate the brutal cunning of the bridge’s design. It was clear to him now that this was Noxian war-masonry. He’d been a fool not to have recognized it before.

Nearby, Kriel and a handful of other soldiers strained to lift the portcullis, but it didn’t budge an inch. With a puff of frustration, the Stonehorn gave up.

“It’s no good,” he boomed. “The mechanism is locked. We’d need a battering ram to get through.”

“Looks like we stand and fight,” said Garen.

“Did Quinn get away, do you think?” asked Merrek, leaning in close to him.

Garen nodded. “I saw her eagle flying west. They made it across. She can’t man the ship alone, so she’ll be making her way overland as we speak.”

“Moves fast, that one.”

“She does,” said Garen. “And she’s resourceful, and knows the land. She’ll probably get back quicker than we could row.”

“I thought she’d done it, too,” said Merrek, looking up at the tower blocking their way.

“I ordered her to get word back to the capital at all cost,” said Garen. “If she ran into trouble, she made the wise decision to cut and run.”

Garen turned to look back toward Alderburg. The mists had parted, and in the torchlight he could see hundreds of soldiers pushing onto the bridge.

“Now, our role is to hold long enough to buy her time to get clear of pursuit,” he said.

His expression hardened, and he drew Judgment, its silver blade ringing as he slid it from its scabbard.

“Come, Vanguard!” he called. “We are the shield of Demacia. Let’s show them what that means.”

****

Cithria tried to slow her rapid heartbeat, taking in deep breaths.

The Dauntless Vanguard stood in the center of the bridge, in three tight ranks.

Eighth Shield were in front, their massive brightsteel shields overlapping to form an impenetrable wall. First Shield were ranked up tightly behind, and Fourth Shield formed a reserve.

All of them knew what their role was: to hold here and buy Quinn the time to get to safety, and carry word of treachery back home.

Thankfully, the bridge forced the enemy to come at them on a narrow front, where their greater numbers could not be brought to bear. The enemy would have a hard time dislodging them… but there were an awful lot of them.

Cithria could see the warden atop the bridge tower on the Nockmirch side, orchestrating the approaching army. And it was an army; her best guess was there were almost two thousand enemy warriors here, on top of perhaps two hundred soldiers and guards of the Nockmirch. The warden had taken direct command of both hosts, with the lord castellan nowhere to be seen.

To her Demacian eyes, they were an unruly rabble, these newcomers, with no sense of uniformity in their ranks. They all seemed to be

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