The House of Yeel by Michael McCloskey

Author:Michael McCloskey
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: alien, knight, tinkerer, alchemist
Publisher: Michael McCloskey
Published: 2012-04-07T19:24:38.884384+00:00

Chapter 11: Skirmish

Two weeks later, Jymoor emerged from her room at Legrach’s call. He wore a breastplate created from the shell of some giant crustacean. It made him look like a sea creature himself.

“Quickly,” he said. “Our enemies are scouting in force. They’ve been spotted approaching Ascara-home.”

“We’re going to leave the fortress?”

“If we act now, we can kill them before any more arrive,” Legrach said. “At least, that’s what Vot has told us. She has spies on the mainland.”

Jymoor thought about protesting. She hardly felt ready for a real battle, but on the other hand, it was a sign that Legrach didn’t think of her as a mere child. Unless he just wanted her to die and be rid of her.

Jymoor checked herself. She had two fenlar, her short sword, and the moon armor.

“I’m ready, then,” she said.

They walked through the stone corridors of the fortress. At each branch they picked up more warriors until Jymoor was part of a stream of men. They poured out into the main courtyard and formed ranks. Jymoor felt conspicuous in her armor, but her mind remained mostly on the prospect of doing battle. She flexed her hands nervously, feeling the strength of the moon armor there.

Another tall warrior, perhaps a leader, walked about between the ranks. The man also wore the chitinous armor made from some once-living creature. He yelled a few orders in a language Jymoor didn’t understand.

“What did he say?” asked Jymoor. “Why couldn’t I understand him?”

“In times of battle, we use our ancient language. It was the Ascaran’s language before Artaxiad enslaved us and taught us this language.”

“Now that Artaxiad is gone, I’m surprised you don’t always speak it.”

“Vot knows the language you speak. So we keep it for her. Also, we’ve become used to it over the generations. Our old language is not fully known to most of us anymore. To me, it’s just a fighting language, though I think we have some who can speak more of it.”

“I see. What did he want?”

“Our scouts will lead us to the enemy,” Legrach said. “When we’re ready, the horn will sound a single low note to signal our charge. And, of course, they’ll look out for the rest of our enemies, in case it’s a trap. If you hear the horn sound two high notes, that means run.”

Jymoor nodded. The leader motioned with his arm and bellowed another order. Everyone started to move forward toward the bridge. Jymoor gripped one of her fenlar and reviewed what little training she had over and over in her mind as they walked over the bridge and out among the rocks scattered over the landscape.

The march continued through the rugged landscape for another hour, but with her mystical energy reserve Jymoor barely felt it. Legrach didn’t seem to feel like talking, so Jymoor simply tried to stay calm and fit in.

Then a scout ran up to join the front of the army. Officers ran along the column to the front to speak with the scout and their leader.

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