book title

Toryn had rarely seen the hall look finer. Bunting hung from the eaves concealing parts of the roof badly in need of repair, and the low light of the flickering lanterns hid much of the neglected woodwork from prying eyes. Yet, despite Toryn’s trepidation, his spirit rose as he entered. The smell of the lamps and murmur of the gathering villagers took him back to the mid-winter celebrations of his younger days. But back then, his belly had been smaller and easier to fill — tonight, he suspected his stomach would still be rumbling come the end of the function.

All but the youngest of the villagers sat at six long tables, but only the head table laid out for their guests of honor had a cloth of white linen. At the back, the children sat crossed-legged on a large mat, trying to sit still and silent as they anticipated their supper. Toryn wished he could join them and be blissfully unaware of the importance of the occasion.

Elrik waved from the far table. Toryn turned away from the children and squeezed through the narrow gaps to sit opposite his friend. Elrik beamed and drained his cup. ‘Just think, this time next week we could be seven days away from this place.’

Toryn nodded at Elrik’s empty cup. ‘Might have been wise to have saved some of that wine, I don’t think we’ll get another.’

Elrik laughed. ‘Who cares? Once we’re guardsmen’ — he nodded at the head table — ‘we’ll get all the ale and wine we can handle, not to mention—’

‘We have to pass the trial first.’

‘We’ll do it with our eyes shut, although I’m not so sure about the rest of the lads.’

Toryn sloshed the dark wine around the bottom of his cup. ‘Hamar says it’s not all ale, women and glory, especially if we find ourselves on the Nordruuk border.’

Elrik’s shoulders dropped. ‘I know, he’s told me about the life, but anything has to be better than living in this village.’ He lowered his voice as a weaver caught his eye. ‘Nothing ever happens, same day every day, except on a rare holiday when nothing happens twice over.’

Toryn tried to laugh. ‘But you may find a day when you’d welcome nothing happening.’

All heads turned as Marshall Drakelow entered. He paused at the entrance and peered over his shoulder. He cleared his throat. ‘All stand for the Knights of the Archon.’ The villagers obliged. Drakelow stepped aside as the captain led in his men. Toryn watched the six stride into the hall. They wore tabards and clothes that had seen better days, but they walked straight-backed and proud as they took their positions at the head table.

The captain held up his hands. ‘Please be seated.’

Elrik leaned over. ‘Imagine. You and me on the road south, seeing all the places we’ve only heard about in stories. And Archonholm? As tall and as strong as a mountain, Hamar says.’

‘And not forgetting the training. There’ll be no ale and maidens before we’ve finished that.’

‘Yes, and the training.’ Elrik swished his hand across the table. ‘We’ll be unbeatable, champions of the Five Realms.’

Toryn studied the men at the head table. Despite the shabby state of their clothes, they appeared strong and battle-hardened. If an Amayan warrior had taken down just one, it would still be an impressive feat. He glanced over to Hamar, who beamed ear-to-ear at the head table.

Marshal Drakelow stood. The room fell silent. He turned to the head table. ‘On behalf of the village of Midwyche and the Ward of Darrow, I welcome you to share our humble supper.’ He raised his cup to the knights. ‘Let’s drink a toast to the fine, brave men who keep our lands safe and free.’ The room stood and waited for the captain to speak. He said nothing, but they took his nod as a sign to drink. Toryn eyed the wine barely covering the bottom of his cup. He joined the villagers in the toast. ‘To the Knights of the Archon.’

The knights drained the wine and banged on the table until the serving girl refilled them. The captain held up his hands. ‘Keep it down, lads, you’ll scare the young ‘uns.’ He waited for quiet before turning to Drakelow. ‘Thank you, Marshal, for your welcome. Right’ — he rubbed his stomach — ‘time to eat.’ His men cheered as the servers brought plates of pork, potatoes and green beans. Toryn and the villagers had to wait longer for their meagre supper of bread and cheese to arrive. He picked at the contents of his plate, careful not to finish before those at the head table.

When their guests had eaten their fill, and much of next week’s ration, the captain stood. In turn, his eyes met each of the young men in the room. He drew a breath as if to speak but paused as a young girl at the back of the hall cried for her mother. The woman excused herself from the table and hurried to the distraught toddler. To the relief of the hall, the girl settled once she laid eyes on her mother. The captain knocked back his drink and winked at the mother. ‘If you’re finished at the back, I’ll start the formal part of the evening.’ He straightened. ‘As you know, the Archon works day and night to maintain the watch at the Caerwal Gate so you can farm your lands and live in peace. My men devote the best years of their lives to this noble duty. While you sleep in your beds, we remain ever vigilant for the enemy on your behalf. We watch the ports, the rivers, the mountains, and the borders of all lands for signs of intrusion and—’ an old man coughed, the captain turned — ‘and yes, I’m afraid this means we have to enforce certain restrictions.’

A low murmur rose in the hall. Drakelow held up his hands. ‘Now, now, please let the man speak.’

‘Thank you, Marshal. I know you would prefer the freedom to travel and trade, but as you’re aware, we still have remnants of the dark forces in hiding, no doubt waiting for our resolve to weaken, and of course, we also have to deal with the brigands from the north.’ The muttering continued, forcing the captain to raise his voice. ‘The restrictions make it somewhat easier for us to track down those still bearing us a grudge. However, these restrictions will need to be stricter from now on.’ He took a breath. ‘Of late, there has been… let’s just say certain events in the east may have been orchestrated from the other side of the Caerwal Mountains. I’ve—’

Some gasped. All heads turned to their loved ones, three women stood and rushed to their young. Drakelow raised his voice. ‘Let’s all stay calm. Please, allow the man to finish. I’m sure the Archon has a plan to counter this threat.’

The captain nodded. ‘Marshal Drakelow is right. The Archon expected such events. I’ve advised your Marshal to step up the watch on your borders, and my detachment will continue to patrol this side of the mountains. And besides’ — he gestured to the back of the hall — ‘while fine men like young Hamar still draw breath, you’ll be safe. What do you say, Hammy?’

Toryn turned. Hamar blinked as if waking, surprised to see all eyes upon him. He coughed. ‘Sorry, Captain, I was… deep in thought there for a moment. What was the question?’ Many laughed, relieved by the distraction.

The captain laughed with them. ‘I was saying, while you’re still in your prime, these good people have nothing to worry about.’

Hamar’s chest expanded until the buttons strained. ‘No, of course not. Well that is, as long as the sun comes out and our crops can—’

‘See.’ The captain tried but failed to prevent the grin spreading across his face. ‘As alert and on his guard as ever.’ The grin faded. ‘But to return to the issue at hand, we must prepare’ — he glanced at his men — ‘for more unrest.’ He bent, picked up his drink and drained the contents as the voices of the villagers rose. The captain held up his hands. ‘But! Fear not. The Archon has prepared for this type of thing and has taken necessary steps to counter the threat, and indeed, take action.’ He leveled his gaze to Toryn’s table. ‘All males who’ve seen eighteen summers but fewer than twenty-eight, please stand.’

Toryn glanced to Elrik as they rose, numbering ten in total. He felt suddenly exposed as all eyes focused on them. The captain pushed back his chair. ‘Good. Now, please come to the front.’

Toryn followed Elrik and the others to form a line in front of the head table. He scanned the line; all stood taller and broader than he. The captain moved to the opposite end. He placed his hands behind his back and strolled along the line before turning and returning to his position. ‘You.’ Toryn’s heart pounded as the man pointed a large finger at him. ‘You at the end, step forward.’ The others shrank back a pace as Toryn obeyed. ‘Please, stand to attention.’ Toryn pushed out his chest. He approached and stopped opposite. He frowned. ‘Aren’t you a little small for your age, sonny? Are you sure you’re over eighteen?’ The men laughed, but the captain ignored them. He rested his hands on Toryn’s shoulders. ‘I admire your courage, boy, but I can only take those of the right age.’ He smiled. ‘How old are you? And please, speak the truth.’’

‘Twenty-one, Captain.’

‘Twenty-one?’ He turned to Elrik at Toryn’s side. ‘Looks like the big fellow here has been eating this poor lad’s ration.’ The knights laughed harder. The captain held up his hand. ‘Well never you mind, the training and good food will soon build you up.’

‘Does this mean—?’ Toryn stuttered. ‘Sorry, sir… Captain, I didn’t mean to speak out of turn.’

His eyebrow raised. ‘Speak your thoughts, lad.’

‘You said, training. But I haven’t’ — he glanced down the line — ‘none of us have passed the trial, yet.’

‘Ah, yes.’ He moved to the end of the line. ‘This brings me to my next point.’ He glanced to the Marshal. Toryn noted the slight nod of Drakelow’s head. The captain sucked air through his teeth. ‘Due to the extra duties placed upon us in these troubled times, there’ll be no trial tomorrow.’ Elrik frowned, Hamar stirred and squinted at Toryn. He strolled back in front of the line. ‘This year, I will assign all eligible males for training at Archonholm’s barracks.’ He turned to face Elrik and Toryn. ‘Go home, pack your belongings, lads, and be ready to depart at first light.’

Toryn stared into the flames. No trial, no test of strength. They had chosen all the young men, and tomorrow he would leave his home and take the long journey south. For years he had longed to travel, but now he was not so sure.

Miram hurried through. ‘Here they are.’ She placed a pair of socks on his bed. ‘They’re thick so will be too warm for the south, but you’ll need them for the first part of the journey.’ She straightened the pile of clothes, ready for packing in his rucksack. ‘Be sure to eat well, and sleep, you’ll need plenty of rest if you’re—’ She spun away.

‘Mum.’ Toryn took her arm and turned her back to face him. ‘I’ll be fine. I’ll be with Elrik and the others, we’ll look after each other.’

She blinked away a tear. ‘I know, but it won’t stop me worrying and it could be years before—’

‘You should take this.’ His father stood at the door. Andryn held something wrapped in a cloth under his arm. He placed it on Toryn’s bed and removed the cloth. Beneath lay a sword. Andryn picked it up by the blade and held out the hilt to Toryn. ‘It’s not the finest in the land, but it’s not the worst either. Elrik’s grandfather made it for my father, he passed it on to me, but as you know’ — he winced as he patted his leg — ‘I never had the chance to wield it.’

Toryn took it. ‘It’s heavy.’ He raised the blade and thrust it forward as Hamar had taught him.

‘Careful.’ Miram stepped back.

He lowered the point and glowered at his father. ‘Why have you never shown me this before? My wooden sword broke years ago.’

Andryn glanced to Miram. ‘I… well… I couldn’t be sure you’d ever need it.’

Toryn placed the sword back in the cloth. ‘You too, eh? Does no one think I could make it as an Archonian Guard?’

‘No, he’s not saying that.’ Miram covered the weapon. ‘He means because you work on the land, we thought you wouldn’t be expected to—’

‘But Hamar went. He farmed. And you, father, you’ve got years left before you’re too old to work. Jerrum can take my place. Why wouldn’t they take me?’ He turned his back, grabbed hold of his socks and stuffed them into the rucksack.

‘Toryn.’ Miram took his hand. ‘We have always—’

‘He can’t go!’ All three spun around. Hamar spluttered and coughed as he leaned against the door frame. His eyes fell upon the sword handle poking out from under its cover. He recovered his breath and pleaded with Andryn. ‘You can’t let him go. You know he can’t. They’ll find out.’