~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Corbin started awake, violently swinging out to his left, catching his brother square in the jaw with a clenched fist.
“Ow! What in the Crystal has gotten into you?” Logan scowled at his little brother, gingerly rubbing his jaw.
Corbin’s eyes were wide open and bloodshot. “I don’t know. Man, I think I was having a terrible nightmare.”
“Who ever heard of having a nightmare in the daytime? What the heck was it about?”
Corbin only answered with a shrug, the dream fading into the foggy recesses of his mind. Every Culhada, his dreams were plagued with horrible visions, and though he wanted to tell his brother, they had more pressing problems to deal with at the moment.
“Hmm.” Logan eyed him shrewdly.
“I said don’t remember…the battle back in Riverbell, perhaps? I am sorry, though. Did I hurt you?” Corbin asked with sincere concern.
The blow did throb, but Logan was too proud to ever admit it. He shook his head and turned to look out the window. Corbin followed his gaze, looking up the road through the window of the carriage they drove in as it sped across the rocky hill, heading for the gates of Fal.
The captain of the ship had seen to getting them his own carriage the second they were docked, abandoning the ship himself to travel with them. Captain Higgins whipped the horned red elks pulling the carriage, shouting at them to move faster. He had grumbled that the boys were too young to commandeer his ferry and carriage in the same day and said they needed a real man to do the job anyhow.
The capitol city came into view ahead, peeking over the treetops. Neither Logan nor Corbin had seen the city with their own eyes before and they were instantly awed by its grandeur. The city rose up in tiered sections carved directly from the cavern’s mighty northern walls of ivory marble, reaching almost all the way to the ceiling of New Fal itself. Each section sat on a higher tier, in gradually smaller steps rounding out from the ground beneath. The walls were dotted with the city guard assigned to defend against any would-be predators. For a second Logan wondered if the city even needed the warning they had risked life and limb to deliver.
His concern was quickly put to bed as they made their way closer. He could see that the wall was indeed manned, but not by brave soldiers who were alert and prepared. Instead, the wall guards seemed to have two dispositions: drunk and asleep, or lost in some sort of celebration. He reasoned the men and women stationed along the perimeter were no doubt lax in their duties since there was never a real threat from within the kingdom, and there were probably Culhada festivities raging all over the city by now. It was most uncommon for insects to be in this part of the cavern, and even when it had happened, there had never been more than a single lost beast, which had strayed from the swarm.
“Logan, look at the city’s defenses,” Corbin said, referring to the gigantic artillery units mounted on either side of each level. Logan had heard that when the city was originally built by the first pilgrims, massive construction machina, which had long since been lost to the strains of time, were used to carve out the walls. When the building of the kingdom was completed, they had no more use for the machina and so they were disassembled, broken down so their parts could be used in constructing the giant man-operated crossbows Logan was drooling over.
“Captain, how will we alert the Elders once we arrive?” Corbin shouted through cupped hands above the racket of wheels grinding over the rocky path. He coughed on the dusty cloud raised in its wake.
Higgins shot him a wild-eyed look over his shoulder. “Son, don’t you worry about nothin’,” he shouted, pulling hard on the reins. Logan almost flew over the side of the carriage as it swerved around a sharp bend in the road. “We’re headed straight to the Praetorian himself!”
The captain pointed up the dirt road to the base of the city. White walls were all they could see for miles in either direction, and they were headed straight for the gates into Fal.
“What’s a praetorian?” Logan asked his younger brother, trying to speak quietly and nudging him to get his attention.
“He is the captain of the city guard!” Corbin replied loudly. “He should have some sort of direct communication with the Elders.”
Since they had come over the hill and into plain view of the towers, Higgins had been blowing hard into his bullhorn, causing his cheeks to turn beet red. He wasn’t showing any signs of slowing as they came closer to the gates, and the brothers feared he meant to carve a hole clean through the city walls with his vehicle. At the very last moment, they were only slightly relieved when he pulled hard on the reins, turning the elks sideways and clamping down on the brake lever so hard the wheels smoked as they came to a grinding halt. They were out of the vehicle in a dash, all three running like madmen for the gates.
The two soldiers standing guard looked extremely perplexed as to what the expectations were when it came to defending the city against raving lunatics. In all fairness, at this point the Captain did look like a wild man, with his red hair all frayed and spittle foaming at the corners of his mouth and clinging to his beard.
“Get the Praetorian, ye daft fools! We be under attack!” he shouted, still running and pumping his fist in the air.
One of the soldiers turned to run inside and alert the men but he bounced off a giant of a man who had just walked out of the tower’s double doors.
The Praetorian towered over Corbin, who in his own right was considered one of the tallest men in his village. He did not wear his usual cloak and armor, which represented his status. He had clearly been in the middle of some celebrating instead, and was clothed only in long johns from the neck down.
“What is the meaning of this racket, Captain Higgins?” the Praetorian demanded, clearly in no need of cloaks or armor to fill his station.
Higgins was about to explain when Corbin jumped in front of him to recount the attack on Riverbell. He explained everything, emphasizing the need for swift action. When he finished with the rushed story, the Praetorian looked down at him, taking in all he had heard.
“Hundreds of the foul beasts, you say?” he asked slowly.
“Yes sir, hundreds, though it only took twenty or so to wreak such havoc on our village,” Corbin replied.
The Praetorian took them all in under a withering gaze, measuring their worth, before finally settling his eyes on Captain Higgins. “Bah, drunks, the whole lot of ye, out here wasting my time!” He spit on the ground at their feet and turned to leave.
“Banner you bastard,” Captain Higgins growled.
The Praetorian gritted his teeth to hear his given name used in such a manner.
Logan glanced at the Captain, who did look like he had been drinking, with his hair all disheveled and that crazed look in his eyes.
“Praetorian,” Logan called, stopping the man and turning him about. “My brother speaks the truth, you big oaf! We have run here nonstop for close to two nights now, risking life and limb to bring you this message in time!” he shouted at the barrel-chested man, pushing his face up as close as he could get, standing toe-to-toe with the hulking warrior. He jabbed his finger into the Praetorian’s chest with each word to accentuate his point. “Now get your ass moving and inform the Elders before it is too late!”
Perhaps it was the sheer audacity of this little man in approaching Banner like this, something no man had dared in years, or perhaps it was the ring of truth in his words, backed by the cold resolve in his eyes. Either way, the Praetorian shifted his thinking and without a word, ran inside the great tower.
Logan stared helplessly after him and at the empty doorway, which was now without guard. He wondered if at any moment the Praetorian would run back out with an axe in his hand to cut him down.
Instead, he heard the deafening sound of a horn booming from the top of the guard tower. It reverberated along the marble walls, echoing across the cavern as far as Riverbell, where Elise heard it with equal parts relief and drea
d, knowing the Walkers had made it and what they were surely soon to face.
No sooner had the alarm sounded than it was answered by responding horns blasting all along the wall, up and down the levels of the city. Soon all the towers blared their war sirens, causing Corbin to cover his ears from the deafening roar. With a sigh of relief, Logan slumped against the wall. He stumbled, realizing the Captain was pulling his arm to lead him inside the city as soldiers all along the watchtower raced to their posts.
“Best to get on the other side, lad, unless we want to become pincushions,” he reasoned.
Shouting commands and quickly falling into defensive positions, the city guard leapt into action. Arrows were nocked and ready, aimed for the outside, and other four-man teams clambered into the massive crossbow ballistae units.
Corbin turned to regard the road they had journeyed for the last several days. It seemed so serene and inviting. One would never guess that death was on its way through that quiet, forested landscape.
Somewhere under the blare of the city alarm, he could distantly hear Captain Higgins urgently calling for him to get inside before they sealed the gates. With one last look, Corbin bolted for the doors of the tower.