Post by moralhazard on May 5, 2019 1:39:28 GMT
Sundabar, 1484
There was no sun.
Goosebumps crawled over Kara’s skin, and she crossed to Anders’ tiny window, pulling it open and leaning outside. The streets were dark, very dark, darker than she would have expected even if a storm was rolling in. The city bells were chiming; it was six am, the same time she always woke. Kara slowly twisted, looking up. The sight above was horrifying: the sky was covered in a rolling boil of a dark hideous something – they didn’t quite look like clouds – that seemed to suck all the light out of the world.
“Anders,” Kara turned back to the bed.
“Come back to bed,” Anders was smiling sleepily at her through half-closed eyes. “It’s still early. It’s not even light out.”
“Anders,” Kara said again, a note of panic creeping into her voice. “It’s six in the morning.”
Anders sat up, looking at her. “It can’t be,” he said, slowly, voice still thick with sleep. He rose and crossed past her to the window, leaning out as she had done. A moment later he looked down at her, worry creasing his face. “Get dressed, then, my love.” He said, quietly. “I think we’ve work to do today.”
The mess at the Guardsmans’ hall was subdued and quiet. Occasionally, voices would creep up out of the silence, rising slowly:
“ – the sun?”
“But what could cause…”
“ – can’t half see – ”
“… panic.”
“ – the war.”
Then, as if on cue, they would shut off again, and the noises of spoons scraping bowls and forks and knives on plates would rise up again, filling the air.
Kara ate her oatmeal quickly and efficiently, as silent as the rest. Like most of the guards, she had come to breakfast in her uniform; it seemed the thing to do. Her knife and baton hung from her belt against the seat beneath her, and her glaive rested against the edge of the table.
Even Hana, sitting next to her, was unusually quiet, prodding at her bowl of fruit and nuts. “I don’t like this,” she announced, finally, pushing the almost-full bowl back and looking down the table.
“No one likes this,” Anders set his knife and fork down, his own eggs and meat two-thirds gone. “Eat, Hana. It’s going to be a long day.”
Dardahr tugged at his beard, his breakfast of hearty dwarven bread and eggs long gone. “Do you think there will be panic?” He asked.
Neither Kara, Anders nor Hana could bring themselves to respond. Even Kara lost her appetite at that, setting her spoon down in the last of her oatmeal, hands dropping to her lap.
She felt Anders reach beneath the table, his fingers coming to hers and squeezing. Kara couldn’t help smiling as she squeezed back. She looked up and saw Hana watching her with a small smile of her own. The half-elf met Kara’s eyes, and winked.
“Guardsmen!” The Watchblade stood in the door of the mess hall, her sharp eyes scouring the hall.
The entire room went silent; not even a single cough or cleared throat dared to disturb it.
“Assemble in the grounds,” The Watchblade said. “Ten minutes.” She turned and marched back out of the mess hall. The door swung shut behind her, and the entire room exploded into motion.
Kara scooped up her tray and glaive and followed the crush of people looking to scrape away the remains of half-eaten breakfast, worming her way through, well aware of Hana behind her, and Anders and Dardahr off to her left. It wasn’t so hard to keep track of them in the crowd; Hana she was used to looking for, and Anders she couldn’t help but see, especially with his halberd held tight against his body. Dardahr, at least, she would have to trust would stay close.
There was no more time for conversation; the entire force of guardsmen was congregating in the massive parade grounds that led into the hall. Now there was a steady loud murmur of conversation, the oppressive heat of bodies filling the square. The Watchblade appeared above them on the ramparts of the hall exactly ten minutes later, standing and gazing silently down at them, her hands locked behind her back. Her seconds and captains stood behind her, lining the ramparts. Kara could see her own captain, Captain Forgehammer, along with Captain Ironfist. Her eyes searched the rest of them; her mother, as ever, stood as tall as her less than five feet allowed. Kara felt that even from down on the grounds she could see defiance blazing in her blue eyes. Her father stood behind her. His face was tighter, more worried.
The dark sky overhead roiled, the odd black masses of what might have been smoke – but wasn’t – seething over them all.
“We have had news,” The Watchblade spoke. Once again, the entire yard fell utterly silent.
“It is not only Sundabar. This – darkening – has been seen over the entire Silver Marches.” The words dropped like a stone into the silence – and the discipline broke. There was yelling, shouted questions mingling with one another.
The Watchblade held one hand up, palm out, and – waited. The noise trickled into nothingness again, but for the faint sounds of shifting feet and muttered coughs and grumbles.
“We do not know what will come,” her powerful voice carried across the space, although she seemed not to strain herself in the slightest. “We may no longer doubt that enemies will come for us from outside.” Her voice raised, suddenly, to a sharp yell. “Let them come! Sundabar will see them break on her walls.”
There was a roar from the assembled guards.
The Watchblade waited for it to die down, and spoke again. “But we face a more immediate threat. There is panic in the city. It is our duty – our sworn, solemn duty – to keep the peace of this city. We will be challenged. We must overcome. Form up into your squads – your captains will find you for your assignments.”
The Watchblade was silent, and the guards were silent with her. “Be brave,” she told them, fierceness blazing into her voice. “Be strong, be honorable. Harm no one if you may avoid it. Keep the peace!”
“Keep the peace!” The voices of the guardsman echoed with a powerful roar. Kara shouted with them, shivers running down her back, all the soft hairs on her arms and the back of her neck standing straight up. She could hear Anders yelling alongside her, Hana and Dardahr too, their voices mingling with hers and those of all their fellows. Pride and hope boomed in Kara’s chest, pushing back against the darkness above.
“Stormwind, Greyhelm, Telnarryl, Bellringer,” Captain Forgehammer looked at Anders and Dardahr, then at Hana and Kara. “Join up with Kulenov and Stonebeard on the eastern edge of the market square. Guardsman Kulenov, you take the lead. We’ll have a cleric join the six of you – the temple of Helm and Tyr are sending over those they can spare. Stay sharp, all of you. Understood?”
“Yes Captain!” Kara chorused with the rest.
Forgehammer nodded. His beard was long and thick, with small braids lining the edges to keep it contained. He exhaled, hard. “Good. The cleric will meet you at the third rampart from the entrance on the west side. Go. Gods be with you, Helm and Tyr especially.”
“Thank you Captain!” Anders spoke for them all.
Mysra Stonebeard was a small stocky dwarf, an inch or two shorter than Dardahr. Bor Kulenov, her partner, was a brawny man with dark brown hair and equally brown eyes. The two of them crossed the rest of the squad.
“Anders,” Bor extended a hand.
“Bor,” Anders clasped it. “Just like training days.”
“You know it,” Bor grinned. “Mysra, you know Anders and Hana. Kara and Dardahr are newer additions to the squad.” He paused. “Mysra’s just back from injury leave. Hell of a day you picked, my girl.”
“Couldn’t be a better one,” Mysra grinned, fiercely, gripping her baton tightly in one fist.
“I like that,” Hana grinned at her. “Glad to have you back with us, Mysra.”
“Nice to meet you,” Kara nodded to her.
“Dardahr, they really made you a guard already? I thought you were still in diapers.” Mysra grinned at him.
Dardahr grinned back at her. “I’m taller than you these days, Mysra,” he said, proudly. “Better watch it.” Both laughed, but – like the rest of the conversation – there was a tense undercurrent to it.
“Let’s fetch our cleric, then,” Bor said, cheerfully. “I hope the temple sent over a good one. Maybe one of those war clerics from Tyr.”
“No,” Kara said, abruptly, her eyes widening. “No, not from Tyr.” She thrust her glaive into Anders’s hands and took off, boots thudding against the ground, winding through the moving guards.
The cleric standing at the third rampart looked up. He was a slender man of about Anders’ age, wearing chainmail emblazoned with Helm’s gauntlet and carrying a mace in one hand. There was a distinct similarity to Kara in his face, made more obvious when his eyes went as wide as hers had.
“Kara!” He dropped the mace and wrapped her in a hug.
“Kosef!” Kara was laughing. “I can’t believe they let you out of the temple.”
Kosef laughed as well, squeezing her tight. “Kara, kara, kara! I refused to stay, I told them that I would be with the guards today one way or another. I’m still a Bellringer, after all.”
Kara laughed, squeezing him back before letting go.
“You’ve gotten stronger, little sister,” Kosef grinned down at her, rubbing his arm where she’d held on. “Oh, by Helm, it is good to see you.”
“Kara!” Anders came up behind her, Hana half a step behind, Dardahr, Mysra and Bor bringing up the rear.
“This is my brother,” Kara explained, turning back to the other guards with a grin. “Kosef Bellringer.”
Kosef bowed, looking between them. “Bor Kulenov?” He asked, looking from Anders to Bor.
“Yes,” Bor stepped forward. “We’re grateful for your assistance, Cleric – er – Bellringer.”
“Kosef will do,” Kosef grinned. “Hard to stand on my dignity in front of my little sister.”
Bor laughed, and the two shook hands.
“This is Hana Telnarryl,” Kara explained. “My partner. Mysra Stonebeard, Bor’s partner. And Dardahr Greyhelm and Anders Stormwind.” She paused for a long moment, aware of her heart pounding, and plunged on. “They’re partners as well. The six of us will be with you today.”
Kosef shook each hand, firmly. He lingered, for just a moment, on Anders, and both squeezed – perhaps – a little too hard.
Kara had her glaive back in hand now, and she turned to Bor, attentive. Once the introductions were done so did the rest.
“Ah,” Bor said, looking between the six of them. “Good. All right – let’s get to the market then. Look sharp, everyone. No more surprises today, here’s hoping!”
The city streets were quiet and subdued; windows were closed and drawn, shutters tight against the inky black sky. In some homes, despite the fact that it was mid-morning, candle and lantern lights could be seen shining out from beneath doors. Nearly half of the shops on the route were closed.
The market was a bit noisier. Purchases of produce and other goods had been done last night, or in the early morning before the full scope of the darkening had been understood. Rather than toss a day of merchandise, most merchants had come and set up their usual stalls. The usual bright, loud calls to passer-byers were muted, though, and an undercurrent of grumbling fear hung heavy in the air. The streets circling the square were quiet and still, the houses on the edges of the market as sealed up as the rest of the city.
“A discount!” A loud, gruff voice split the air, and a heavy-bearded merchant leaned forward, scowling at the whip-thin mage who was glaring at him. “You must be kidding me.”
“No,” The mage brushed an imaginary speck of dust off his robes, fixing the merchant with a cold stare. “With the streets quiet, you’ll be lucky to sell half of this. I’m only asking for a small discount, given the circumstances.”
“Now you listen here,” the merchant grumbled. “I’m only leaving it at these prices out of the goodness of my heart,” there was heavy anger in his voice. “By rights, I ought to charge you twice – who knows when the next shipment of goods’ll be in. I won’t take a copper less.”
The mage snorted. “Then you’re a fool.”
The merchant let out an angry roar –
And Anders was there. His halberd was in one hand, but the grip was relaxed, and there was a broad, easy smile on his face. “My friends,” he said, gently, calming, half between them. He smiled at the merchant. “Surely there’s no need for an argument today,” Anders said, gently.
The merchant glared at the mage, and went back to unpacking his cabbages, grumbling through his beard at them.
Anders set an arm around the mage, and gently steered him away from the booth, murmuring to him in a low voice.
The mage glanced at him, startled, then nodded and made his way off into the market.
“Well done,” Bor said as Anders rejoined them.
Kosef was watching Anders closely. Kara glanced at him, trying to make out what was in his face. She had never been good at reading him – Grigor was an open book, but Kosef had always kept his thoughts and feelings hidden. Today was no different.
Anders shook his head. “It’s a powder keg today,” he said, softly. He was still smiling, but it wasn’t quite so easy now. “One wrong spark – ”
“Boom.” Dardahr finished, softly.
It wasn’t much further to the eastern edge of the market. Bor took up a position next to a small round fountain, glancing around.
“Right,” Bor said. “This’ll be our meeting ground. One team stays here to keep an eye out, two patrol through, hourlong routes, one north, one south. We’ll meet back here every half hour. No need for fixed routes – better to be everywhere today. Whistles out and ready, and give the signal for trouble if you see any. Any questions?”
“Well, one,” Kosef raised an eyebrow. “Where do you want me?”
Bor frowned. “With Kara and Hana,” he said, finally. “For now, at least.”
“Yes sir,” Kosef agreed.
“Good.” Bor exhaled. “Hana, Kara, you take north first. Anders, you and Dardahr hang here. Mysra, let’s head south.” The bells chimed overhead, striking the hour.
“So,” Hana grinned at Kosef as the three of them set off from the group. “I’ve been dying to know,” her tone was light and cheerful, but her gaze was sharp, flicking between stalls, merchants and customers, “what was the most embarrassing thing Kara did as a little girl?”
Kosef laughed.
“Hana!” Kara hissed, scowling. “That’s not – we’re – right now?”
“If not now, when?” Hana said, still cheerful. One hand slid around her baton, and she flicked it out with perfect control, letting it rest on the hand of a little boy reaching for an unguarded purse. The boy looked up at her, then down, and snatched his hand back and fled.
Kosef laughed. “She makes an excellent point,” he grinned at Hana. “Let’s see – I remember this one time, when Kara was about eight, I convinced her that if we could just sneak into the paladin’s hall at the Temple of Vigilance…”
Kara walked faster, scowling, leaving the two of them behind and deliberately shifting her attention to the streets beyond. She heard a burst of laughter from Hana behind her, and scowled harder.
Up ahead there was a yell, then a scream and a crash, and what looked like a bowl came flying out a second floor window, raining glass on the stones of the street below.
Kara took off without thinking. The glass crunched beneath her boots as she approached the front door, raising one fist and pounding against it.
“Guards!” She yelled. “Open up!”
“NO!” There was a loud scream from above. “No, please!” Through the open window Kara could hear sobbing as well, and someone else screamed, high-pitched enough to be a child. “Daddy, no!”
“GUARDS!” Kara slammed her fist against the door. She gritted her teeth, taking a step back, and slammed the butt of the glaive into it. The door groaned beneath the heavy wood, but didn’t give. Kara gritted her teeth, stepping back again.
Hana was there moments later, her hand on Kara’s arm. “Give me a boost,” she said, seriously. “I’ll try up,” she pointed. The bottom floors were sealed off, but what looked like a window into the neighboring apartment was open.
Kara set the glaive down, stepping forward and interlacing her fingers, hands cupped.
Hana took a deep breath, shaking herself out, and checking that the dagger on her side was sheathed.
“Here,” Kosef was chanting something Kara didn’t recognize. His hand glowed, and he pressed it to Hana until the glow sank into her skin. He stepped back.
Hana held still until the last of the glow was gone, and nodded, firmly. She pushed forward, one foot pressing firmly against Kara’s cupped hands, and sprang up. For a moment it looked like she would fall, but one foot caught against just the right spot on the building, and then her hands were on the window ledge, and she was over and inside.
Kara scooped up her glaive, turning to the door, then paused, looking at Kosef. Kosef shook his head. “I doubt I can do more damage than that – thing,” he grinned at her. “And they don’t teach clerics to open locked doors.”
Kara nodded. She turned back to the door, taking a deep breath. She gripped the glaive in both hands, took two steps back, and hurled herself at the door with all the force in her small, compact frame, bursting forward to slam full force into the door, just next to the handle. This time, the heavy door cracked with the blow. Kara hammered at it, once, twice, knocking bits of wood into the building, then reached through and unlocked it.
The screams upstairs seemed to grow louder.
Kara ran inside, taking the stairs up two at once, Kosef following at her heels. There was a door at the top of the stairs; Kosef snapped and yelled something and it flung open. Kara threw herself around it, lunging down the hall into an open door.
Hana stood in the midst of the room, baton gripped in one hand, illuminated by the shaky light of a lantern. A man stood against the far corner, his eyes wild, almost foaming at the mouth, one shaking hand gripping a dagger against a boy’s throat. A woman and two smaller children crouched behind a table nearby, the woman bloody from cuts on her hands and arms. Her mouth still hung open with hoarse effort, but no more sounds emerged.
“They’re mine,” the man snarled. “I won’t leave ‘em to be killed by orcs. Better we go here and now – better – better we – ”
“Put the knife down,” Hana’s tone was firm, and she stalked closer, slowly. Kara split up, edging around the opposite side of the room, approaching slowly from along the wall, leaving the glaive behind at the doorway.
“Don’t!” The man yelled. “Don’t come any closer!”
Hana held, and so did Kara, both a little too far to do any good.
Kosef stood just inside the door, eyes wide.
“Be reasonable, sir,” Hana shifted left, slowly, drawing the man’s focus away from Kara. His eyes tracked her, and his hand gripped the knife even more tightly, making it shake even harder. The boy cried out, a few drops of blood trickling down his neck into his collar.
Hana took one more slow step forward and left. The man’s gaze was focused on her.
Kara inhaled, deeply, tensing herself.
Hana lunged forward. The man jerked – Kara threw herself forward, smashing into the boy, her hand wriggling between his and the knife. She felt the blade bite into her arm and ignored it, wrapping the other around him. She landed half on him, but they were well away from the man.
He screamed, lunging at Kara; the knife had tumbled from his hand when he struck her, laying bloody on the floor of the room. Kara shoved the boy back behind herself, twisting onto her back, and thrust both booted feet up at the man as he came at her, catching him in the lower belly. Then Hana was there, slamming him against the wall.
Kara scrambled to her knees, turning to the boy. He was wide-eyed and shaken, and there was a smear of blood on his cheek and neck. Kara’s eyes went wide with panic; she grabbed his face, and – looked down. It was her blood. She exhaled a sigh of relief, sinking back. Her arm throbbed, but it was a shallow cut, along the edge of her forearm; nothing serious.
The woman screamed. “No! No,” she was sobbing.
Kara looked up at her, then followed her gaze to Hana, who was cuffing the man’s hands behind his back.
“No, please!” The woman rushed across the room, grasping at Hana’s arm with both hands. “Please, Guardsman – he didn’t mean no harm, he was only – ” she paused, swallowing hard. “He’s their pa, they – ”
Hana shook her head. “I’m sorry, Mistress, but even if I wanted to let him go – he cut a Guardsman. Maybe healers can speak to him, get him calmed down. You and the little ones can come and see him, you understand?”
The woman was sobbing; she let go, slowly, sinking back, leaving bloody smears behind on Hana’s uniform.
“Is it always like that?” It was a sober walk to the nearest guard station to leave the man, and Kosef didn’t speak again until they were headed back to the fountain. Kara’s arm was wrapped in a clean white bandage; the bleeding had stopped, and the disinfecting herbs they’d used at the guard station had stung nearly as bad as the blow.
Kara glanced at Hana.
Hana smiled at Kosef. “Did you expect different?” She asked, curious.
“No,” Kosef hesitated. “I – Kara, what were you thinking? He could have hurt you.”
Hana laughed. “I’ve been trying to break her of jumping in since day one,” she said, regretfully. “I’ve had to accept – she knows what she’s doing.”
Kara looked up at her partner, a slight smile curling her lips. “Since when?” She asked.
“A joke?” Hana gasped. “Kara, was that – did you – oh gods,” she pressed the back of one hand to her forehead. “Kosef, you heard that, didn’t you? A joke!”
Kosef grinned, but it faded. “I mean it, Kara – what were you thinking? He could have - ” He trailed off.
Kara was quiet. She glanced down at her arm, at the bandage, then back at Kosef. “I was thinking,” she said, slowly, “that I’m much better at defending myself than that little boy,” her jaw clenched.
Kosef was quiet. Then, “You sound like mama,” he smiled, crookedly.
Kara looked up at him, eyes wide, and – smiled, really smiled, warmth spreading through her chest. Kosef’s smile smoothed out at the sight of it. Any lingering thoughts of the scrape on her arm faded to nothing. “Thank you.”
The rest of the day passed dark and quiet. Fights broke out throughout the market; there were thefts, too many; and no one would have called any of it pleasant.
“Unrest,” Bor said, leading the group’s report back to Forgehammer. “And that was with folks at the market selling, and prices mostly normal. Hard to say what’ll happen –”
“You’re not the only one to notice,” Forgehammer nodded. “We know it, Guardsman Kulenov. Report to me again tomorrow, an hour after first lig – “ There was a long pause from all of them, a heavy, weighty feeling.
“An hour after the clock strikes six,” Forgehammer finished, slowly, frowning. “Dismissed. Get some rest tonight, all of you.”
Kara and the others nodded and thanked him.
“Dinner?” Anders asked, glancing around. “I can’t be the only one hungry,” he was still smiling, despite a dark purple bruise forming high on one cheekbone, the relic of a fight he’d come too late to stop and put himself in the middle of instead.
“I’ll say goodbye to Kosef first,” Kara nodded to the others. “I’ll meet you at the mess hall.”
Kara made her way across the square, walking past quiet squads of murmuring guards, most coming off the day shift, and others leaving for the night. No one looked happy. There were bursts of smiles and laughter, but they never seemed to catch, flickering and dying instead, smothered to ashes.
“Kosef,” Kara grinned at him. “We’ll see you again tomorrow?”
Kosef had been standing at the edge of the yard, arms crossed over his chest. He turned to Kara and smiled. “They won’t be able to keep me away,” he promised. “Just try not to get in any more trouble before then.” He raised an eyebrow at her.
Kara shook her head. “No chance of that.” She said.
Kosef snorted. “Come on, Kara. You were never good at – hiding.”
Kara crossed her arms over her chest, and scowled. “And what does that mean?”
Kosef gestured across the yard. “Even if Mama hadn’t told me about this – Anders – I have eyes, Kara.”
“Mama – ” Kara’s eyes shot wide, and she glanced around, giving Kosef a light shove on one arm. “Mama what? What are you talking about, Kosef?”
“So you haven’t told them,” Kosef scowled. “It’s obvious how you feel about him, Kara. And from what Mama said, it’s obvious he cares about you too. Don’t tell me you’re not – together.”
Kara’s face flamed red, cheeks darkening. “It’s – we’re – it’s none of your business, Kosef! It’s my life,” she kept her voice to a low, angry hiss.
“No!” Kosef groaned. “No – it’s come out all wrong. Kara,” He squeezed his eyes shut.
Kara scowled deeper. “And what does that mean?” She snapped.
“I don’t want to fight with you, little sister,” Kosef rubbed his face with his hand. “I mean – don’t hide. All right? If he’s your man, he’s your man. I don’t like it – I can’t say I – you’re my sister. I suppose I wouldn’t like anyone. But he… he seems like a good man. Don’t hide.”
Kara exhaled, deflating slowly, although she was still scowling. “… It’s still none of your business,” she grumbled the words, but the edge was gone from her tone.
“I know,” Kosef grinned at her. “Kara, I left for the temple and you were – a kid. Give me some time to accept that you’re grown now?” He reached for her cheeks, cupping them, and pressed a kiss to her forehead, murmuring the familiar words that Kara knew to be a blessing to Helm.
Kara uncrossed her arms slowly, bowing her head.
“Helm bless you, little sister,” Kosef said, quietly. “I only hope I can serve him so well.”
Kara could feel her cheeks glowing red again. Kosef’s arms lowered, and she reached out, clasping his hand with hers, then pulling him into a tight hug, squeezing as hard as she had that morning.
“See you tomorrow, brother,” Kara promised.
Kosef nodded, glancing up at the sky. He exhaled. “I’d be grateful for another day like today,” he said, quietly. “I don’t know how much more the city can take.”
Kara watched him go, swallowing the lump in her throat. She shook her head, slightly, and turned, making her way back across the square. It had been a painful day, and she had no doubt there were more to come. For now, at least, there would be dinner, maybe some jokes, and much to look forward to for the night ahead. Let tomorrow bring what it may – they would stand ready.
((Word count: 4730))
