'Yeah, we'll do better than any King's damn army!'
Kell watched the men talking animatedly for a moment, and Saark appeared beside him. Using Jagor's knife, Kell sawed through Saark's bonds and the dandy grinned at him. 'I don't believe what I just saw.'
'Men are always looking for something to fight for,' grimaced Kell.
'But you're the same!'
Kell stared at him 'Of course I am.' It was no criticism, just an observation. 'Listen – go and get Ilanna. I'm missing my axe terribly.'
Saark stared at the big man, with his battered face and bloodied knuckles. 'And Nienna? I should release Nienna?'
'That goes without saying,' smiled Kell, easily, and turned as Grak the Bastard climbed the steps and moved forward.
'You're smaller than you look, up close,' said Grak.
Kell grinned. 'Well met, Bastard.' They clasped hands, wrist to wrist.
'Only my mother calls me that.'
'I have a job for you, Grak, and I think you're the man for the job.'
Grak pushed back his broad shoulders, and clenched his fists. 'You name it, Kell. I'm yours to command.'
'I'll be the General of this here little army. You can be one of my Command Sergeants.'
Grak raised his eyebrows. 'Promotion is quick in your new army, I see. I'll surely stick around now. Who knows where I'll be in a week? In a year, I'll surely be a god with a big fat arse!' He roared with laughter, slapping his thigh, and many men joined in.
'I want you to round up Grey Tail, Jagor and Dandall. Get them tied up and brought to me.'
'You going to kill them?'
'No. They're just blinded by hatred; and to be honest, Grak, I need every good fighting man I can get. These Vampire Warlords – they're like nothing I've ever seen in this world.'
'I'll get on it, Kell.'
'And Grak?'
'Yes, General?'
'What did you do out in the real world? So that I dragged your arse to this chaotic shit-hole?'
Grak the Bastard grinned at Kell with a mouthful of broken teeth from too many bar brawls. 'I killed my last General,' he said, turned his back, and strode across the planks of the hangman's platform.
Kell stood on the battlements as night closed in. Snow fell on the plains beyond, and a harsh wind blew across the wilds. Kell shivered, and considered the enormity of what he was doing. Kell knew he was no general, but he was going to lead an army of convicts across Falanor and engage the vampires and the Army of Iron in bloody battle. And the Army of Iron alone had slaughtered King Leanoric's finest Eagle Divisions, more than ten thousand men. And here, Kell had a mere three.
'It's an impossible task,' he muttered, but he knew, deep down in his heart, deep down in his soul, it was something he had to do. Something nobody else would, or could.
Kell sighed, and Ilanna sang out in a vertical slice as a shadow moved behind him.
'Hell, man, I nearly cut off your bloody head!'
'Sorry, Kell, sorry!' It was Myrtax, wearing a fresh robe and rubbing his hands together, eyes averted from Kell's cold steel gaze. 'Listen. Kell. I came to apologise.'
'Ach, forget it, man.'
'No, no, what I did was cowardly.'
'Horse shit. You were protecting your family. I would have done the same.'
'Very noble of you to say so, Kell, but I know that isn't the case. You would have stood, and fought, and overcome your enemies. I stand before you a broken, humbled man.'
'Yes. Well.' Kell was uncomfortable. 'We can't all be a…' he smiled sardonically, 'a Legend.'
Myrtax moved to the battlements and stared off into the distance. Snow landed lightly on his hair, making him look older than his advancing years. Then he glanced at Kell.
'We're getting old.'
'Speak for yourself.'
'What you up to, Kell? You want to fight off all the vampire hordes?'
'Aye. It's the only way I know.'
'I was speaking with Nienna.'
'Yes?' Kell looked sharply at Myrtax. 'And?'
'She said you're tired. That you didn't want to come here. Didn't want to do this. You said Falanor would look after Herself.'
'Aye, I said that. And it's true.' He sighed. 'You're right. We are getting old. This is a young man's war.'
'You're wrong, Kell. This is a time when the world needs heroes. Heroes who are not afraid of the dark. Heroes who will,' he smiled, looking back off into the snow-heavy distance, 'walk into a fortress prison of three thousand enemies, and turn them to good deeds.'
'They can only do what's in their hearts.'
'They will fight for you, Kell. I can feel it. In the air. In the snow. They are excited; horrified, frightened, but excited. You have inspired them.'
'Maybe. But they won't be inspired when the vampires rip out a few hundred throats and crows eat eyeballs on the blood-drenched battlefields.'
Myrtax squinted into the snow. 'Somebody comes.'
Kell shaded his eyes, and through the haze of snowfall they watched a cart slowly advancing, being pulled by two horses. More men walked beside the cart, which had a heavy tarpaulin thrown over the back.
'Let's go and see what they want. The hour is late, and men don't wander to prisons in the dead of night for naught.'
Kell and Myrtax descended the steps, and were soon joined by Saark and Grak the Bastard. They marched to the gates and stepped out, the huge walls looming behind them and seeming to cast a deep, oppressive silence over the world.
'They look cut up,' said Saark, voice grim. 'Like they've been in the wars.'
As they neared, they slowed, and each of the six men carried swords, unsheathed.
'If you've come for a fight, lads, better be on your way,' said Kell, hefting Ilanna and taking a step forward.
'We don't want trouble,' said one man.
'We've come for help,' said another.
'What's your story, lad?' said Governor Myrtax, not unkindly.
'We're from Jalder. The city was overrun weeks back, but near fifty of us escaped through the sewers. Women and children as well. No soldiers were sent after us, and after a few days' travelling, running, we camped up in an old farmhouse.'
'I think we should invite them in, hear their story over an ale and broth,' said Myrtax.
'Wait,' said Saark, holding out his hand. Then he shook his head. 'What's under the tarpaulin, gentlemen?'
'It's them,' snapped one. 'Two of the bastards who came hunting us.' He looked suddenly frightened, a terrible look on the face of such a big, brutal man.
'Let me guess? They came at you in the night, slaughtered most of you, but you six escaped?'
The man nodded, and Kell strode forward, lifting the edge of the tarpaulin with the corner of his axe. 'Did you cut off their heads?'
'No. They're still alive.'
'You did well capturing them. They usually fight to the death.'
'Well, forty of us died trying. We thought we'd bring them here, to Governor Myrtax. My dad always said he was a good man. He could… put them on trial, or something. I haven't got it in me to kill women, no matter how vile.'
