Chapter 30: From the East

If the alert runes were glowing blue, that meant something important had been sighted. I glanced at the other Dupes who were watching me, and they stared back at me. They were looking at me with a touch of awe, and perhaps I’d earned it, considering I’d stabbed clean through a boulder yesterday.

But now wasn’t the time to lose our wits.

“Get back to the camp,” I said quickly. “And gear up. Let’s find our squads and stick together.”

At the moment, I may have been stronger than them when it came to Skills, but I didn’t have nearly as many attributes yet as some of them, and the majority of my attributes weren’t physical. I had to be careful about timing my Skills, otherwise I was going to be a sitting duck—or worse. At the moment, I was basically a glass cannon.

We sprinted back to the camp. Romance was with me, and once we made it through the outer palisade of the camp, we broke off toward our squad’s tent. When we arrived, I snatched up my scale mail and pulled it on over the chainmail hauberk I’d been wearing, then fastened my pauldron and damaged bracers. Lastly, I pulled on my helmet.

I still didn’t have a shield or any leg armour—no greaves nor gaiters, but I’d make do for today. My scale mail hung low enough to protect my thighs.

As we ran out of the tent, fully suited-up, Shave caught us. He tossed me an orange poncho and said, “It’s going to get messy out there. We wouldn’t want to stick you by accident.”

I nodded, then clasped the poncho on and tucked it into my belt. It wasn’t long enough to interfere with my movement, so I figured there was no harm in wearing it. I gave my spear a whirl, then rushed out of the tent with Shave and Romance to the staging ground.

Lieutenant Finger marched in front of us, checking all the squads under his command, and Commander Galliard hopped on his horse, trotting back and forth behind us. The commander shouted, “We don’t have a full report yet, but if the runes are flaring, it’s bad. Since we haven’t seen our watchmen yet, it’s safe to assume they are already dead.”

Finger pulled a horn off his belt and held it up. “Your lieutenants will lead your squads on a patrol of the nearby areas, searching for the threat. When you identify it, sound your horn, and we will all form up on you. Sergeants confirm?”

“Understood, lieutenant!” all the sergeants—including Shave—shouted.

“Move out. On the double!”

Our squad made a tight formation behind Shave—the same formation we’d used when rescuing the prisoners from the Labyrinth—and moved with Finger out the camp gate. He led us north, toward the woods, and we crossed over the stream. Our most important duty was protecting Slowbend. Already, the citizens were rushing inside, and bells were tolling in warning.

I didn’t want to fight in the forest again, but if we had to, at least I was better equipped. Once we had circled around to the north of Slowbend and crossed the stream, we stopped and slowly turned west. My stomach swarmed like it was an anthill and someone had kicked it, but I kept my wits about me, and I stayed in formation.

Everything was painfully silent, and I stretched my ears, trying to hear as far into the distance as I could. But even with the extra Perception my helmet granted me, it wasn’t enough. Whatever was attacking wasn’t close enough to hear yet.

Finally, when Slowbend dipped behind the hills and I couldn’t see it anymore—except for the smoke trails of its chimneys—Finger ordered our squads to a halt. “That’s far enough!” he said.

“Lieutenant!” Shave called, pointing toward the edge of the forest. “Three riders!”

Finger turned his gaze toward the forest, and all of the squads followed suit. At first, from this distance, I could only make out a silhouette, and it could have been anything. Finger raised his horn to his lips, ready to blow a blast, but a different Dupe from another squad shouted, “Wait! Lieutenant, they’re men!”

Three horses raced toward us. As they approached, I narrowed my eyes. One of the riders had fallen off his mount. His foot was trapped in the stirrup, and his horse dragged him behind through the mud. He was a Dupe. Three arrows with mangy black feathers stuck out from his chest.

The rider in the lead, however, was a regular human—not a Dupe. I recognized him as Sir Aldhelm from his helmet’s black plume, and an arrow protruded from his shoulder too. He gripped his reins with both hands and snapped them, urging his horse to trot faster. His face curled into a grimace, and black blood was splattered across his cloak.

Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

“Lieutenant!” Sir Aldhelm shouted as soon as he was in hearing range.

“What’s happening, sir?” Finger said, holding tight to his axe and shield.

“Orcs wiped out the 5th Battalion. When I heard, I came racing to aid them, but I was too late.”

“How many orcs?”

“Four hundred strong. And they have plains trolls with them. I killed as many as I could, but it wasn’t enough. They’re heading this way as we speak.”

“Our watchtower was reporting another crossing here,” Finger replied. “We’re moving to intercept them.”