Shield and Crown by Michael Jason Brandt

Author:Michael Jason Brandt [Brandt, Michael Jason]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-11-24T22:00:00+00:00

Once it became clear the tribesmen were taking no risks—with either the prisoners, who remained guarded at all hours, or with their own patrols, which never ventured far from camp—there was little for Yohan and Patrik to do but bide their time, awaiting a change in disposition.

There was always the temptation to sneak into Threefork itself, simply in hopes of learning what was going on. But the dubious relationship between the tribesmen and town gave Yohan pause. It would take no more than one citizen to sound an alarm, and all would be lost.

Instead they returned to their hideaway far from town to spend more time scouting, more time resting, and more time practicing.

Yohan remembered the hard lessons of his own drillmaster in Vilnia. He attempted to apply some of those lessons to Patrik’s training, although without the same curses and insults.

“Yesterday was your feet. Today, let’s talk about your arms. They don’t just perform an attack, they also tell an opponent what that attack will be. Your swings are far too long, too pronounced. You’re indicating where the attack is going well before it gets there. Only a crippled foe or a fool wouldn’t be able to dodge.”

Patrik watched a few sample movements then did his best to emulate them. It would take time, of course, but at least he was performing exercises that would improve his skill if he repeated them enough.

Yohan had done what he could to help. Now it was up to the other man himself to learn from the instruction. For a civilian, he was not completely without potential. Give him a year or two and he might make a fine warrior, after all.

Which was a ridiculous notion. They would both be dead in a matter of days, most likely. So, too, would the prisoners. They were being kept alive for some purpose, but Yohan did not doubt its climactic conclusion was nigh. He was not sure whether he wanted to know exactly what that purpose was, or not.

Patrik had stopped, and now stared at Yohan curiously. “What are you about, Yohan?”

“I was thinking about the man. The prisoner. Who is he?”

“Someone important. A nobleman, judging by his outfit. Does it matter?”

“What are they planning to do to them?”

Patrik found a rock on which to sit, set the sword aside, and rummaged through a pocket. “Twoscar told us the Chekik—the Archon, he called him—intended them for ritual sacrifice.”

“He also told us they were going west. How much can we believe, harpa? How much was truth, and how much lies?”

“It was all truth to him.” Patrik had worked up an appetite, so he bit off a chunk of jerky with the kind of enthusiasm Yohan recalled from his own early days in the army. He continued to speak while he chewed. “The directions he was told. The sacrifice, he may have witnessed. I believe him.”

Yohan nodded. “He said the Chekiks use valued prisoners for their ceremonies. The others they eat.” So shunned was the loathsome act that he felt shame simply from speaking of it.

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