Chapter 41 — Silver Over Grom

Chapter 41: Chapter 41 — Silver Over Grom

Chapter 41 — Silver Over Grom

The rider reached Dragonwatch shortly after sunrise, his horse coming through the gate covered in dried foam. The man remained in the saddle until Walter caught his arm and helped him down.

"Avenholt," he said. "Orcs."

Christopher had spent half the night watching the distant smoke, and he was already crossing the yard when the rider’s knees gave way. They brought him water and sat him against the gatehouse wall while Godfrey asked the questions.

"How many raiders attacked the village?"

"Eight attacked. One died. Seven went north."

"How many of them carried Essence?" Godfrey asked.

"One Grom. The rest—I don’t know. Sir Edric fought the Grom."

Godfrey’s face hardened. "Edric’s rank?"

"Black Iron," the rider said. "He was a veteran of the war."

"Did Sir Edric survive his wound?"

The rider lowered his head. "He died before midnight."

Christopher turned toward the southwestern ridge as the messenger went on: five other people dead, seven wounded, three houses and the grain shed burned. The surviving orcs had taken six cattle, two horses, weapons, tools and whatever valuables they found before withdrawing north.

"How many fighters remain at the village?" Godfrey asked.

"The captain. Five retainers, but one has an arrow wound. Some hunters."

"Did the orcs have wounded?"

"Sir Edric cut the leader. One other was carried for a time, then rode."

Godfrey stood. "Simon. Adam."

The two scouts were already waiting near the stable with their gear prepared.

"Follow the village road. Find the orcs’ trail and keep them in sight. Count them again. Find where they stop and whether they meet anyone. Do not engage."

Simon nodded. "If they split?"

"One of you follows the Grom. The other returns. If you see more orcs, both return."

They left on fresh horses before Christopher finished speaking with the messenger. He had spent half the night wondering about that smoke; Godfrey needed only a few questions before men were already riding.

Christopher ordered Joan to prepare space in the barracks and asked Bennet how many people Dragonwatch could take.

"For a few days?" Bennet asked.

"Longer, if their settlement cannot be held."

"Then the answer changes after harvest."

"Give me the answer before harvest."

Bennet studied the barley fields before answering. "Eighteen families will crowd us. We have roofs, barely. Food depends on what survived there and what they bring."

"Prepare for them anyway."

Joan took over before Christopher could give individual instructions. One barracks still held stored timber and broken furniture, so she sent older children to clear it and told Martha to stretch the midday stew while Wilfred’s northerners gathered spare blankets.

Mabel questioned the rider about the wounded: a belly wound had already killed one man, two people had burns, one woman’s arm might be broken, and another had taken an arrow through the shoulder.

"I should go," Mabel said.

Christopher turned to Godfrey.

"Not alone," Godfrey said. "And not before we know where the orcs are."

Mabel pressed clean cloth, willow bark, salve and written instructions into the messenger’s hands. The man’s horse could not make the return journey, so Walter gave him a rested animal and ordered him to eat before leaving.

"My lord," the rider said to Christopher, "are you sending soldiers?"

Christopher wanted to say yes, but Godfrey had not answered.

"Scouts are already moving," he said. "Tell your captain to keep everyone together. We will send word."

The rider accepted that and left within the hour.

Godfrey called the available fighters into the yard. Dragonwatch had twelve Knight Apprentices, though not all were equally experienced and some had ordinary duties that could not simply disappear. Walter and Ivo stood with them while Bram watched from beside the storehouse, until Joan sent him to help clear the barracks.

"One Grom killed a veteran Black Iron lord," Godfrey said. "Remember that before anyone treats this as an easy hunt."

Christopher had heard the power comparison before, but seeing the result in burned roofs made the difference less abstract.

"If you go," Christopher said, "how many stay?"

"I take Walter and four apprentices. Ivo remains with you and the other eight."

"Why are you leaving Walter behind?" Christopher asked.

"Because if I engage the Grom, he commands the apprentices."

Christopher understood, though he still disliked remaining behind while his men fought.

"I reached Black Iron. I can ride with you."

"You’re also the lord of Dragonwatch. Someone must remain if the raid was meant to draw our fighters away."

"Edric stayed with his settlement and died with it."

"And he ran from his unfinished defenses to save cattle."

The words landed harder than Christopher expected. Godfrey continued before he could answer. "You don’t need to prove courage by making the same mistake. If the scouts find seven raiders alone, I don’t need another Black Iron sword. If they find a war band, six more men will not be enough."

Christopher looked at the apprentices. None met his eyes.

"Fine. You lead."

Christopher stepped back from the horses; he would remain with Ivo.

The rest of the day passed under a tension that ordinary work could not hide. Farmers remained in the fields, but tools stopped whenever someone rode near the road. Hunters returned early, and the fishing baskets were emptied before dusk, while the household tending the captured warthogs drove them into the inner pen. The alarm group rehearsed the field warning once without being told, and the gate barriers remained partly drawn even while carts passed.

Christopher trained with Ivo instead of Godfrey that morning, his concentration breaking twice. Ivo struck his practice sword aside both times.

"Again," the Bronze Knight said.

Christopher reset his stance.

Near sunset, Adam returned alone, his horse tired but not blown. He dismounted inside the gate and went directly to Godfrey.

"Seven," he reported. "One Grom. Six others. They’re driving cattle north along the old shepherd road. No sign of another group."

"Where is Simon?"

"Still following. They stopped twice because of the wounded one and the animals. They made camp below Split Pine Ridge."

Godfrey knew the place from their earlier patrol maps: a narrow stream crossed the road below a slope of scattered trees, less than a day from Dragonwatch for mounted fighters.

"How many sentries?"

"One on the southern rise. The Grom sleeps near the horses. They look tired."

Godfrey turned to Walter. "Simon, Adam, Thomas and Nicholas."

Four apprentices. Two scouts and two steadier fighters.

Walter began checking weapons while Christopher walked with Godfrey to the stable. "Bring back the livestock if you can."

"If it does not slow us dangerously."

"And the stolen property."

"What we can identify."

Christopher lowered his voice. "Bring everyone back."

Godfrey tightened his saddle strap. "That’s always the preference."

The six riders left before darkness settled fully. The gate closed behind them, and Ivo moved the remaining apprentices to their night posts.

Christopher walked the defenses with him. Two apprentices held the main gate, two watched the western approach, and others rotated between the northern wall, the livestock yard and the inner refuge. An early alarm could stop another small group, while the fortress’s long walls remained thinly guarded.

"Keep the outer workers close tomorrow," Christopher said.

"Already told Cedric," Ivo replied.

"Double the northern watch."

"Already done."

Christopher stopped. "Is there anything left for me to order?"

Ivo considered it. "Tell people why the gate is closing early. Rumors are worse when nobody speaks."

Christopher gathered the household heads near the common hall and told them a nearby settlement had been attacked by eight orcs, that Sir Edric was dead, and that Godfrey had gone after the seven survivors. He warned them that more orcs might be nearby.

Questions came at once. The orcs’ direction remained unclear. Would the fields be abandoned? No. Should families sleep in the refuge courtyard? Not unless the horn sounded. Could the children remain inside the walls? Yes, until Godfrey returned.

One southern farmer asked whether they should harvest the young barley before it was ready, but Cedric answered before Christopher could: cutting it now would ruin most of the crop and gain them little.

"We keep working," Christopher said. "Closer to the walls, with watchers."

Some people relaxed. Others kept looking toward the gate.

That evening, Meg reported to her runner post without being asked. Joan objected until Walter’s replacement explained that the alarm group was not being sent outside, and Bram carried water barrels closer to the gate under Ivo’s supervision, slow enough not to crack them against the stone.

Christopher ate without tasting the food. He remembered Godfrey’s words about Edric running to save cattle. From a safe room, the decision looked foolish, but from a burning village, with frightened families and most of the settlement’s animals breaking loose, it might have looked necessary.

Christopher wondered which of his own reasonable choices would look foolish after someone died. It only felt smaller without Godfrey.

Christopher remained above the gate until the riders disappeared into the night, then returned to the work inside.

Simon met them two miles south of Split Pine Ridge. He stepped from behind a low stone wall and raised one hand before Walter could draw his sword; mud covered Simon’s boots to the ankle.

"They haven’t moved," he said. "One sentry awake. The wounded orc is walking badly. The cattle are tied near the stream."

Godfrey dismounted. "Any new tracks?"

"No tracks joined the seven after they left the village."

They led the horses into a hollow and tied them beneath the trees while Walter checked the four apprentices one last time. Simon and Adam carried bows; Thomas Reed held a spear, while Nicholas Tanner wore a sword and round shield.

"You fight the six," Walter told them. "Sir Godfrey takes the Grom. Nobody follows into the trees without an order."

Nicholas swallowed. "What if the Grom comes toward us?"

"Move away and stay alive until Sir Godfrey reaches him."

Godfrey studied each of them in turn. "This is not a tournament. If an orc drops his weapon but continues reaching for it, kill him. If one runs, call it. Do not break the group to chase."

They moved before dawn.

The camp lay beside the stream without tents. The raiders had thrown blankets near a low fire and tied their stolen animals along the bank. Two cattle remained standing; the others lay chewing beneath the trees, with packs and human tools piled beside the horses.

The southern sentry stood on the rise, leaning on a spear.

Simon killed him with the second arrow. The first struck the orc’s shoulder; he shouted and turned, and the second entered beneath his jaw.

The camp woke at once.

Walter charged downhill with Thomas and Nicholas. Adam continued shooting from the rise while Simon drew another arrow.

The Grom leader came to his feet with his axe already in hand, a dirty bandage wrapped around one forearm where Edric had cut him. He took one look at Walter, then at the man walking down the slope behind him.

Godfrey had not drawn his sword.

The orc shouted something. Two raiders ran for the horses, and another cut at the cattle ropes, perhaps intending to scatter them.

Godfrey moved.

Silver Knight Essence struck the camp like pressure before a storm. The low fire flattened, the nearest horse screamed and pulled against its tether, and the orc leader set his feet and raised the axe.

Godfrey crossed the space between them in a blur. The first blow split the axe handle below its head; the second opened the Grom’s chest through iron plates and heavy leather. The orc remained upright for one stunned breath before Godfrey drove his sword through the gap beneath the ribs.

The Grom leader fell.

Edric Avenholt had been a veteran Black Iron Knight. He had cut the orc and died for it. Godfrey ended the same enemy in moments.

The remaining fight was less clean.

Walter struck one raider from the saddle before he could free a horse. Thomas braced his spear against another, but the orc knocked the point aside and rushed him, forcing Nicholas to catch the blow on his shield. Adam’s arrow entered the raider’s thigh, and Thomas recovered and drove his spear into the orc’s chest.

Near the stream, the wounded raider cut the cattle loose. One animal lurched through the camp, dragging its rope, and Simon stepped aside too slowly, so a horn caught his leather coat and threw him into the mud.

The orc raised a short blade over him.

Walter reached the man first and struck his neck.

"Up!" Walter shouted.

Simon rolled, found his bow and rose.

Two orcs were already dead, the Grom leader lying beside the fire, and the three remaining raiders ran in different directions.

Godfrey killed the one heading for the horses. Adam shot another in the back; the arrow did not stop him, but Nicholas and Thomas reached him together, Nicholas catching the orc’s sword on his shield while Thomas drove the spear through his side.

The last raider ran uphill past the dead sentry. Simon drew despite the pain in his shoulder, and his arrow struck the fleeing orc’s leg. The man fell, rolled and came up with a knife.

"Hold!" Walter ordered.

The apprentices stayed together as they approached. The orc threw the knife—it glanced from Nicholas’s shield—and Thomas ended the fight with his spear.

Silence returned slowly. The cattle had scattered along the stream but remained nearby. One horse had broken its tether and disappeared north; another stood trembling among the trees.

Walter checked the apprentices before he checked the dead. Simon had a long tear in his coat and a shallow cut beneath it where the horn had caught him. Nicholas’s shield arm was bruised, Thomas had blood on his face that belonged to someone else, and Adam was untouched.

"Minor," Walter said after cleaning Simon’s cut. "Mabel will complain anyway."

Simon sat on a stone. "I thought cattle moved slower."

"The difference sounds small until you stand in front of a Grom," Walter said.

Godfrey wiped his sword and examined the Grom leader. Edric’s cut had weakened the forearm but would not have killed him. The orc wore pieces of human armor from different soldiers and carried a leather purse containing southern silver.

"War plunder?" Walter asked.

"Some. Some may be from the village."

They separated what they could identify. Farm tools, two marked harnesses, household silver, cloth bundles and several personal tokens had clearly come from Avenholt’s settlement, while other coins, jewelry and weapons could have been taken anywhere during the war.

The orcs carried dried meat but little grain; they had expected the cattle to feed them once they reached safer ground.

Godfrey let the escaped horse go. Six fighters could not spend the day chasing one animal through unfamiliar country.

They recovered five cattle nearby. The sixth had injured a leg during the confusion and could not walk properly, and Walter wanted to slaughter it rather than lose time. Godfrey agreed, and they dressed what meat they could carry and left the rest marked for scavengers.

The return took most of the day. Driving cattle destroyed any hope of speed. Simon rode with his injured shoulder bound, more embarrassed than hurt, while the captured horses carried packs and weapons.

They stopped once when Adam found unfamiliar tracks crossing the trail. Godfrey examined them and decided they were several days old. No second orc band appeared.

Near sunset, Dragonwatch’s watch horn sounded one long note.

The gate opened after Ivo recognized them. People gathered in the yard despite Walter ordering them away from the animals, and Christopher came down from the wall. He counted the riders first.

Six had left. Six returned.

Then he saw Simon’s bandage.

"What happened after they reached the cut?" Christopher asked.

"A cow," Simon said.

Christopher faced Godfrey.

"The orcs are dead," Godfrey reported. "The Grom leader included. Five cattle recovered, two stolen horses, most of the village property, and other goods of uncertain origin. One cow was slaughtered after it broke a leg. One horse escaped."

"What happened to the Grom?"

"Godfrey killed him. The others broke when they saw him fall."

Mabel pulled Simon toward the infirmary corner. Walter sent the apprentices to clean their weapons before eating. Godfrey ordered the recovered property stored separately from Dragonwatch’s supplies.

The apprentices gathered in the guard room after their weapons were clean, and Godfrey made each one describe the fight from beginning to end.

Thomas believed the first orc had turned toward him. Nicholas insisted the man had been watching Walter. Adam admitted he had nearly fired while Nicholas crossed his line. Simon remembered the cow’s horn better than the orc above him.

Godfrey corrected them without praising the number of enemies killed.

"Thomas, you lost your spear line after the first deflection. Nicholas saved you because he stayed close. Adam, an arrow held is better than an ally shot. Simon, you moved without checking the animals."

Simon touched the bandage beneath his shirt. "I noticed."

"Notice before the horn next time."

Walter received criticism too. He had moved toward the horses before confirming that all four apprentices remained together. It lasted only seconds, but Godfrey did not ignore it because the battle had ended well.

Christopher listened from the doorway. The victory became less clean with every account; Godfrey had controlled the field, but small errors collected quickly once weapons moved.

When the others left, Christopher asked Godfrey about the power difference.

"Edric was an experienced Black Iron. You killed the Grom almost immediately."

"Rank matters."

"Ten Black Irons for one Grom?"

"A comparison, not a law. Ten frightened Black Irons may die. Three skilled ones with the right ground may survive. But one Black Iron meeting a prepared Grom directly will usually lose."

"And you?"

"The orc was to me what Edric was to him."

Christopher’s hand rested on Edmund’s sword at his side. Reaching Black Iron had felt enormous when he woke in the training room; on the frontier, it made him strong enough to understand how many things could still kill him.

Christopher watched the cattle being led through the inner barrier. The recovered cattle filled the road below them, and beyond the ridge, eighteen families were still waiting beside burned houses.

Tomorrow, Christopher would go to them.