A Promise of Iron Brandon McCoy (howl and other poems TXT) 📖

earlier that they spotted a band crossing the Ellish, they counted less than a hundred.”

“Hundreds, Commander, maybe as many as a thousand,” I corrected. “I left them just after high moon.”

He gave me a skeptical look. “We would have seen a force that large approaching the city.”

I shook my head. “Sir, they have kept to the trees to mask their number, but I don’t believe Forhd is their target.”

He rubbed a hand over his short white beard. “And where do you suppose they are heading if not here?”

“The Heights and the granary there. The battle at the Woad was a distraction. I believe their plan is to take and hold the Heights, dig in using the ruins of Tol Rukar as cover, and establish a foothold in Belen.”

The younger officer scoffed. “Seems like an elaborate plan for a crude people. What makes you the expert on deciphering Golmere strategy?”

“Nothing,” I said, not breaking my gaze from the commander. “Only that I faced them several nights ago in Windshear. They were armed and well trained, these were not your run of the mill Golmere spoiling for a fight, and neither was their prime.”

“Yes, a pale one, the men say. With one ear?” The officer chuckled. “Sounds more like a ghost story than anything.”

“I faced him,” I said calmly. “He weaves iron.”

The officer burst into laughter. “And a sorcerer no less? Might I assume he has bright red eyes and can breathe fire as well? Commander, honestly, how much of this superstitious nonsense must we listen to?”

“The Heights are good defensible ground. If they take the granary, they could hold it for a season or more before we had enough troops to break them. Gods know what kind of damage they could do in that time,” the commander said, rubbing at a long scar that ran the length of his forearm. “But that’s not our concern. The Heights garrison has already been recalled; they carried with them what they could in preparation for a Seveli siege. We hold two granaries; we can spare a third.”

“But sir, my concern is for the rest of Belen, there are farms and homesteads all along the frontier, we can’t let the Golmere establish a—”

“Join in with the locals on wall defense. With Sereventus’s blessing, we can keep this piss pot out of Seveli hands long enough for the legions to arrive.” He waved his hand dismissively. “No offense, lad. I’m sure it is a fine town.”

I stood firm. “My apologies, Commander, but I cannot.”

He turned cold copper eyes towards me, they might have been inviting explanation, but he said nothing of the kind. “I do not know you, soldier. I do not know your history, your writs, or even your name. Had the Seveli not routed our garrison and left me defending this charming hamlet with not but boys and broken men, I would haul you off by your ear and have the captain here whip you in front of my men.” He sighed. “That said, situations are evolving, so I will grant you the dalliance your generation seems to require and ask you again—man the walls, please.”

“Sir, if I may. We don’t have enough men to set a proper perimeter, and what we do have? Well… If Sevel is intent on taking Forhd, we will not be enough to stop them. We are better off abandoning the town and getting everyone down the river.”

“We do not abandon our post in the Imperial Corps, soldier,” the commander said.

“Sorry sir, I should clarify, I don’t think we should abandon our post, not entirely at least.”

He looked at me, and his eyes read that he was out of patience. He signaled to the captain, who then grabbed me by the shoulder.

I shrugged him off. “We need to march on Belen Heights!” I shouted.

“Have you gone mad?” the captain asked. “The Seveli are out there, and you suggest we abandon the town?”

“Let me go beyond the walls,” I stated. “With twenty men, locals-only, we know the land and can cover ground more quickly than Imperials.” I paused then. “No offense, Commander. I’m sure they are fine soldiers.”

“Sir, the boy is touched. If he won’t serve on the walls, let’s put him in the stocks and be done with it.”

The commander held up a calming hand, his eyes contemplative. “You should listen more, Captain.”

The captain turned me around. “Beyond the walls for what, you fool?”

I gave him a silencing look, and it was then that I recognized his face. He was the loud officer from Turns the night I earned my stars. He was a lieutenant then, another star for bravery in battle, no doubt. He didn’t recognize me, not yet at least, this was just general Cyllian hostility; there was nothing personal about it, yet.

“The head of the serpent,” the commander said knowingly.

I nodded.

“What’s that?” The captain asked, turning back to the commander.

“The boy wants to go after the prime,” the commander explained.

“Commander, he’s daft, we need every man here on the walls until reinforcements can arrive. The Seveli are out there, and gods know what will happen if the resistance decides to play their hand. If I may be so bold, have you considered this could be like the fire, a ploy to get us to divide our forces?”

The commander looked at me, but I saw no suspicion on his face.

“Use Imperials on the walls,” I said. “At the very least, they will appear intimidating. If the Seveli arrive and see our walls stocked with nothing but boys and gray hairs, they will charge. Line them with nothing but the Empire’s finest, and they just might pause long enough to consider the wisdom of their plan.”

The commander silenced me with an upraised hand and turned his attention to the captain. “The 5th Legion is five days march; the 7th won’t be here until the end of the cycle. What is the greater threat, the twenty or so Seveli who ambushed us on the way upriver or an army