“It’s beautiful,” Khollo murmured.
“We thought about putting a coat of arms on the shoulder piece,” Tarrik continued. “But we didn’t know what you would choose so we left that off for the moment.”
Khollo looked up at the smith, smiling. “Tarrik, you’ve put the finest of all weapons into my hands and the sturdiest of all armor on my back. How can I ever repay you?”
“Don’t get hurt again,” Tarrik grunted, smiling slightly. “And keep killing those beasts.”
“I think I can manage that,” Khollo agreed. “By the way, I saw your charge the other night. Those oil pots were a stroke of genius, but without your brave leadership I don’t think the vertaga would have been stopped at the doors of the keep. No, I think that Janis and I owe you thanks as well.”
Tarrik bowed. “I live to serve, my lords.”
A commotion outside interrupted them suddenly. A soldier burst into the room brandishing a few sheets of parchment.
“My lords! Urgent news!” he gasped.
“Is it Ondus?” Janis asked quickly. “Is he hurt? What’s happened?”
“Ondus is fine,” the messenger reported. “But . . . my lord, the East Bank is gone!”
Khollo swore. “Gone? All of them?”
The messenger nodded fearfully.
Khollo groaned and sank into the nearest chair, suddenly overcome with weakness. “The vertaga,” he muttered. “It has to be them.”
“Ondus found no bodies, from either side,” the soldier reported, handing the parchments to Janis. “Only . . . only bones in a massive pit in the center of the fortress.”
Janis closed his eyes. “So it was vertaga,” he murmured. “Very well. Is Ondus on his way back?”
“Yes,” the soldier reported. “He also reports that he found a large charred patch between here and the East Bank. He thinks it was the supply train.”
“More bad news,” Janis muttered.
There was silence for several moments. So many losses already, Khollo thought dejectedly. That’s nearly two hundred soldiers, most of the fighting men in the Renlor Basin. How long before we are overrun by vertaga?
“My lords,” the soldier continued. “There’s more.”
Janis had just reached the last sheet of parchment. He stared at it for a moment, his expression blank. Then, slowly, he sank into his chair.
“King Orram has fallen,” Janis announced. “Killed by a bear while out hunting.”
Leon and Tarrik both swore quietly. “So . . . Prince Relam is king now?” Khollo asked.
Janis nodded. “Yes. I don’t know the prince well, but I have to think that he would be a more active king than his father.”
“If Etares gives him the chance,” Leon said bitterly.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, Khollo, that politics is cutthroat in the capital,” Leon explained. “The nobles have probably already started in on the new king, yanking him this way and that as it suits their own agendas. Not all of the nobles are good men either. Many are corrupt, power-hungry demons of men.”
“They would make the Clemon that showed up at the West Bank look tame,” Janis added.
Khollo shook his head in despair. “What a nightmare,” he muttered. “So much bad news, so quickly. Is there anything we can do?”
“Sit tight, continue to evacuate the Basin,” Janis replied. “Hope troops come south to assist us.”
“And if they don’t?” Khollo demanded. “With our garrison depleted, the East Bank was all that was containing the vertaga in the South. With that fortress gone, and us weakened, they can freely roam across the kingdom, striking wherever they please without fear.”
“There’s nothing we can do about that,” Janis protested, “Not without more soldiers!”
Khollo tapped the arm of his chair thoughtfully. Then, he abruptly pushed to his feet and crossed to the windows that faced south, ignoring the flare of pain in his side.
“We have no other options,” Leon said into the silence. “Lord Kurkan is right, lad. We must retreat, fortify what we have left. Maybe the vertaga will overextend themselves, and leave their forces vulnerable to our armies.”
Khollo scowled and started to turn back to face the others grimly. Then, he noticed something in the distance. A large band of people, moving slowly.
“Soldier,” Khollo said. “Did Ondus mention whether there were any supplies left at the East Bank?”
The soldier nodded. “It appeared they had just been resupplied. The kitchens were full to bursting.”
Khollo swung back to face the others. “Then here is what we must do: We’re done waiting. Now, we fight. Send riders out across the Basin, summoning all of our people to the West Bank, with as much in the way of supplies as possible. Send riders to Ardia as well, requesting supplies, and riders to the East Bank to scavenge what we may.”
“You’ll leave the West Bank undefended,” Janis observed.
“Twenty men won’t matter if the vertaga attack again in force,” Khollo replied. “It’s a grim truth, but it is the truth. Besides, it looks as though a whole village is about to join us.”
Janis moved over to Khollo at the window and followed his gaze. “You mean to arm and train them?”
Khollo nodded. “And shelter them and feed them. I don’t know how, not yet, but there must still be hundreds if not thousands of villagers left, even after the raids. And they’re tough people, used to hard work and hard living. Even with rudimentary weapons and basic training, they could make a decent defense force. They’d also be numerous enough that the vertaga could not ignore us and march north to more . . . interesting targets. Like Ardia, or Etares itself.”
“You’re planning to build a whole city?” Leon asked. “This fortress was only ever meant to hold a garrison of a hundred, plus support staff. The effort to build additional dwellings, and supply these people, would be monstrous!”
Khollo nodded. “Yes. But that is what it will take to create a
