Again, Cyrus glancedtowards the alvelings. They stared at the spider army in revulsion. Edwardcrawled back atop his best friend’s shoulder.
“They’re with usnow,” he said.
“What did you do?”Cyrus asked.
“I showed her thedead King’s tooth,” Edward replied, “she is larger than he was, but also wiser.”
“So, we have ourarmy, it seems,” Cyrus said, taking stock of the many strange creatures surroundinghim. “Now all we must do is teach them to fight like one.”
Chapter22
WITCH’S DICE
ONCE ALL ONE-HUNDRED-AND-EIGHTY or so alvelingswere aboard the Battle Hune, Cyrus summoned Fibian to the tail fortress and installedChief Sauer as captain of the head fortress. Knavish, to the hunchback’s dismay,would remain aft under Cyrus’ watchful eye.
Cyrus began tofamiliarize himself with the shell’s defenses. He soon learned that the forty-fourwall guns had only enough munitions for a few skirmishes. The steel fortificationsthemselves were strong but would be difficult to defend with a crew so meager. Tomake matters worse, a length of the starboard exterior wall still required completion.
Next, Cyrus inspectedthe island’s interior. Within the tangled forest he found many of the ancient alvelinghomes still standing, though most of their roofs had fallen in and all were overgrownwith vines and creepers. The klops had converted the old town hall into barracks,but the newly-arrived villagers began to claim the other surviving structuresfor their own makeshift homes. Food and water remained in limited supply on theBattle Hune, so groups of alves started to construct wooden rain harvesters,and roast dunklewood nuts to supplement their overburdened reserves.
The surroundingsea was cold and bitter, and the crumbling islands were a grim reminder of whatwas to come, so on the fourth day Cyrus ordered Gabriel south towards milderwaters.
The morning departurewas a bleak affair. Cyrus, Fibian, and Edward stood somberly on the aft bridge deckand bid farewell to Uriel, as her broken remains receded over the vast horizon.Gabriel’s grief was especially deep, and his heavy sorrow cast a crushing shadowover Cyrus’ soul.
Once at sea, the klopsand alvelings fell into a routine of battle training and hune restoration. Cyrusmade it a part of his morning ritual to walk the parapets and oversee his crew’sprogress.
On the sixth day he,Fibian and Edward came across a team of gunners training two of the mayor’s menin cannon operations. The klops were not batalha, and the men were nearly doubletheir size.
“You swab out the bellyof the barrel, like this,” a dark klops said, shoving a wet mop down the throatof the cannon.
“Looks like woman’swork to me,” a bald alve snickered, elbowing his bearded cohort.
Cyrus saw that theman wore a strange necklace of roasted dunklewood nuts around his neck.
“Maybe these twois women,” the bearded brute laughed. “They’re all so ugly, how can ya tell?”
“Who you callingugly?” a skinny klops asked.
“Don’t get yourskirts twisted,” chuckled the bald man.
“Let's see how funnyyou are without tongues,” the dark klops cried.
Then both gunnersdrew poisoned knives.
“Enough!” Cyrus shouted.
The klops and alvesfroze. Slowly, Cyrus lumbered down the wooden stairs and approached the two pairs.Edward crouched on Cyrus’ shoulder, ready to pounce. Fibian stood back severalpaces, defending their flank. Cyrus snatched the barrel mop from the skinny klops.Then he rounded on the alves and shoved the mop handle into the bald man’s hands.
“Go on, if you’reso smart,” Cyrus demanded, towering over the two, “load and fire that weapon.”
The men lookedfrom Cyrus to the powder kegs. Then their gaze fell upon the flintlock and thelanyard. The bearded man fumbled with a shrapnel round and a sheet of parchment.
“Well, what areyou waiting for?” Cyrus shouted. “You know everything. Fire that cursed weapon,and you better not blow your fingers off.”
The mayor’s menlooked at each other, then to the earth.
“Not as smart asyou thought, eh?” Cyrus said, glaring at the alves. “Now shut your fool mouthsand listen to these two. They’ve seen more battles than you’ve had loaves ofbread, and by the looks of you two, you’ve had more than your fair share ofbread.”
The klops smirked,their chests swelling.
“Cyrus,” Edward hissed,from his collar.
Cyrus looked to hisspider and froskman companions. Both stared over his shoulder. He turned towardsthe woods. Several alves clearing the forest stared back at him, appalled. Llysastood cowering amongst them.
“Take their side,”one grey alve scoffed.
“Demon Lover,” anothermumbled.
“Who said that?”Cyrus growled. “Which one of you is brave enough to say that to my face?”
The villagers turnedaway, grumbling, and continued their digging and weeding. Llysa retreated furtherinto the forest.
“That’s what I thought,”Cyrus said, sneering.
“Easy, youngMaster,” Fibian warned. “You are walking a treacherous line.”
Cyrus kicked at thebase of the cannon. Would Fibian’s counsel never end? What did the froskmanknow? What did any of them know?
He turned and madefor the parapets.
“Cyrus,” a girl’svoice called out.
He looked back. SarahHeiler emerged from the woods and stepped into the clearing. Cyrus straightenedhis furs and brushed back his long, thick hair.
“Thank you for ourhome and the extra food rations,” she said, “but they’re too much.”
She had scrubbed cleanher grey dress and mended its torn seams.
“Are your parentsfeeling better?” Cyrus asked, trying to regain his composure.
“Yes, thank you,” Sarahreplied, “but there are others who need your help more.”
Her cheeks had regainedtheir youthful glow, but she was still so thin.
“We’re going to needa strong, healthy doctor if we’re going to survive the coming battle,” Cyrus countered,“and I can’t have your father worrying about his family.”
“Still, no more,Cyrus, please,” Sarah said, “help the others first.”
“They’re being takencare of, don’t worry,” Cyrus assured her.
Sarah paused, seemingto consider his words. Then she stepped closer.
“What you did to theMayor’s men, back on Virkelot,” she said, looking to the ground, “I want tolearn to fight like that.”
Cyrus considered Sarah’srequest. He had never really imagined her a part of the fighting, but that wasfoolishness. Anything could happen in what was to come, and she would need todefend herself. Still…
“Fibian here isthe best fighter around,” Cyrus said, gesturing to the froskman. “He could startteaching you in the mornings if you’d like?”
Sarah stared
