whatever it was that was coming after them.
'If you two lovers are done,' said Captain Beetlestone stepping into view, his armor and face smeared with splotches of blood, 'then I suggest you help us cut the heads off of those we felled, so we can get out of here before those that got away come back with friends.'
Liam never thought he would be so glad to see the inside of Zerith Hold. He wearily tromped down the long stone hall that wound through the keep from the stable to the barracks on the other side. His body ached from the fighting, and the thought of his own room and a private bed was delicious.
Traversing the entire length of Zerith Hold, he finally crossed the threshold into the barracks. Voices wafted down the hall, and as Liam got closer, he could hear the conversation from around the corner.
'No, I'm telling you, he was great,' said the first voice.
'Come on,' argued another. 'Everyone knows the Awl aren't anything more than a bunch of angry thugs. He's never even had any training.'
'Hey, I don't know, but I saw him out on the parade grounds,' said a third. 'He looked pretty good to me.' The man laughed. 'I'll tell you what. I'm glad he's on our side now.'
'So's Knoblauch,' said the first voice. 'Liam saved his life.'
Liam came around the corner to see a group of four elite guardsmen leaning on their doorframes, talking. He hadn't seen many of them without their helmets on, but he did recognize a man with a goatee-the only one beside himself who still wore his armor.
'There he is,' said the man, 'the hero of the day.'
Liam looked at the other three men then back to the speaker. 'You're in my unit.'
The man with the goatee nodded. 'I sure am.' He put his hand out. 'The name's Claudius.' He glanced at the other three men. 'These men are in Captain Phinneous's unit, so they're completely unimportant.'
The three guardsmen grumbled, one chuckling at the jibe.
He shook the man's hand. 'Liam.' And nodded to the others.
Claudius's face broke out into a huge grin. 'Well, well, Liam. More than three months in the unit and finally you're one of us.' He stood up from the wall and grabbed Liam by the shoulder. 'Come on, friend. There is beer to be drunk and songs about your bravery to be sung.' He turned Liam around and ushered him back down the hall.
Liam partially resisted. 'But I still have my armor on.'
'Me too, lad. Me too.' Claudius slapped him on the back. 'Believe me, it's safer that way.'
The other men fell into step behind Liam and Claudius, and they marched together to a pair of plain wooden doors at the end of the hall.
Two of Phinneous's men stepped in front of Liam and pushed the doors open. Before them was a large room, filled with wooden tables, flagons of ale, and a whole mess of drunken guardsmen.
Still carrying his helm under one arm, Liam stepped through the door, and a cry went up.
'Three cheers for Liam.'
The room exploded in noise.
'Huzzah! Huzzah! Huzzah!'
The next moment, Liam was surrounded by other soldiers slapping him on the shoulders and back (and even a time or two on the rear). Someone grabbed his helm, but before he could reach for it someone else replaced it with a large stone flagon.
Claudius appeared at his side. 'Drink up,' he said, lifting a flagon himself. 'All of this is for you.'
'For me?' Someone pushed the bottom of Liam's flagon toward him. Faced with the choice of drinking the golden liquid or letting it slop wastefully to the floor, Liam chose to take a huge quaff.
It was both sweet and bitter at the same time. Liam recognized it immediately. 'Honey mead,' he said, taking a breath followed by another drink. He looked at Claudius, a big smile on his face. 'My favorite.'
Claudius lifted his flagon, clinking it against Liam's. 'I knew I liked you, lad.' He took a drink. 'Yes sir, I knew I liked you.'
The mead flowed all night. Songs were sung and stories were told. Soldiers climbed on the tables and did little dances. As the night drew on, the crowd of drunken soldiers got rowdier and rowdier, and from time to time, chunks of bread and even an empty flagon or two flew through the air.
All the while, the accounting of the fight with the undead and of Liam's bravery grew larger. Pretty soon there was an army of vampires, each standing as tall as the highest tower of Zerith Hold. And Liam cut them down two at a time.
Liam's head spun. He wobbled unsteadily, a smile plastered to his face. This wasn't such a bad thing. These men liked him. They threw parties in his honor.
He raised the flagon to his lips again. He smiled even wider.
They had an endless supply of honey mead. What more could a man ask for?
He spotted Knoblauch in the corner seated against the wall, a sling over his arm. Liam wandered over and sat down next to him.
'How you feeling?' he said as he plopped down.
Knoblauch laughed. 'Not as good as you, I'm afraid.'
Liam lifted his flagon. 'I'll drink to that.'
Knoblauch lifted his empty hand and nodded his head.
'What? Don't you like honey mead?' asked Liam.
The veteran shook his head. 'I like it plenty,' he said. 'It's the torment I endure the morning after that I don't like so much.'
'Ah,' said Liam, pointing his finger at Knoblauch, 'but no one said you had to have too much.' He brought his thumb and forefinger almost together, leaving only a pebble's space between them. 'Only a little.' Liam squinted for emphasis.
'Thank you Liam. I've already had my fill,' said the veteran.
'Already?'
Knoblauch shrugged. 'I'm an old man now, Liam. That stuff hits me a little harder than it used to.' He leaned forward and grabbed hold of an empty flagon on the table, turning it over and letting the last few drops of mead drip out. 'When I was a young man like you, I could drink all day and all night and never feel the wrath of the mead.' He righted the flagon and put it back down on the table. 'But then I got old, and the stuff caught up with me.' He shook his head then laughed. 'It's just not worth the pain anymore.'
Liam sighed. 'Suit yourself.' He took another swig.
Knoblauch pointed across the room. 'Look who came to your party.'
Liam followed the veteran's finger. Beside the door, looking on with a rather disapproving frown, stood Captain Phinneous.
'Bah,' said Liam, 'what does he want?'
Knoblauch leaned back against the wall. 'I don't know. That one's a real manure bag-always steaming and never pleasant to be around.'
Liam nearly blew mead out of his nose. 'You should-' He coughed, spitting a little errant mead onto the table- 'You should warn me when you're going to do that.'
'That wouldn't be any fun, now would it?' Knoblauch placed his hands behind his head.
'Yes. Yes it would,' said Liam, putting his flagon down and wiping splattered mead off his face.
The room went silent, and Knoblauch jumped to his feet. 'Purdun's here.'
Liam coughed once, trying to clear his throat. Then he got to his feet and stood beside the veteran just as the baron approached their table.
Knoblauch bowed. 'My lord.'
Liam watched the veteran out of the corner of his eye and scowled. He didn't know how he felt about the bowing thing. Not that long ago he hadn't felt the need to show Lord Purdun any respect or even acknowledge his authority.
Now though, something had changed. He kind of liked being part of the elite guard. That gave him something to lose, something that could be taken from him.
