Chapter 63 — The Southern Road

Chapter 63: Chapter 63 — The Southern Road

Chapter 63 — The Southern Road

Barlow finished Bram’s armor before dawn.

It was not a proper matched suit. The mail shirt had belonged to a broad man, though not one as broad as Bram. Two leather panels protected the gaps beneath his arms, and an iron plate covered the upper part of his chest. His shoulder guards came from different sets, one round and the other square.

Bram bore it quietly. He stood in the forge yard while Wat Cooper pulled the last strap tight, then bent, raised both arms and slowly turned his shoulders.

Leather creaked. Nothing broke.

"Can you breathe?" Wat asked.

Bram took one deep breath. "Yes."

Barlow handed him the warhammer. The grip had been wrapped in new dark leather, and the head had been cleaned without removing its old dents.

Bram held it against his chest.

"Not there," Godfrey said. "On your shoulder while walking. Across the saddle when riding. Never swing near the horses."

Bram moved the hammer to his shoulder. Godfrey watched him repeat the positions twice before turning to the six apprentices.

Thomas, Adam, Martin, Nicholas, Simon and Robin waited beside their horses. Their equipment was good by the standards of an ordinary noble escort: every man wore mail or reinforced leather, an iron cap and a heavy cloak. Swords hung from five belts. Martin carried a spear as his main weapon, while Adam had a short bow tied beside his saddle.

Ivo stood apart in the pale grey magical armor Christopher had given him, a wool cloak concealing most of it. The matching sword remained in its plain sheath. Godfrey’s own armor was hidden beneath a dark travelling coat.

Two packhorses waited at the gate instead of a wagon, carrying visible food, blankets, spare bowstrings and feed for the animals. The valuable cargo was already inside the military storage ring on Godfrey’s hand, a strip of leather covering the ring so it looked like part of his glove.

Ivo knew the ring carried old bullion and ordinary gems for the capital purchases. The exact amount remained between Christopher and Godfrey.

Christopher walked down the line, checking straps and packhorses as Godfrey and Bennet had taught him. At Robin’s horse, he found one buckle twisted beneath the saddle flap.

"Fix that."

Robin looked down, saw it and dismounted at once.

"Yes, my lord."

Christopher continued to Bram. The draft horse shifted under the young man’s weight but did not strain. Bram held the reins too tightly.

"Where are you going?" Christopher asked.

"Northgate. Maybe the capital."

"Who do you obey?"

"Sir Godfrey. Sir Ivo if Sir Godfrey is not there."

"And if someone insults you?"

Bram frowned. "Do nothing unless Sir Godfrey says."

"Good."

Bram turned toward the houses beyond Dragonwatch’s inner wall. "I come back."

"You come back," Christopher said.

Godfrey mounted. "Open the gate."

The southern gate groaned apart. Walter stood on the wall above it with three apprentices. Bennet waited near the road, holding a final list of purchases that Godfrey had already read twice. He also carried Christopher’s sealed letter to Viscount Osbert, which Godfrey placed inside his coat; a trusted Drake courier in the capital could take it south without forcing the party to detour toward the family estate.

The party rode south beneath a pale morning sky. Christopher watched until the road curved behind a low ridge.

A restless pressure brushed the back of his thoughts. Thunder did not understand why he was staring after people who had chosen to leave. The feeling carried no words at first, only impatience and the certainty that anything important should remain close enough to see. Christopher sent her an image of Godfrey returning with meat, people and supplies.

Her answer was hunger.

"Of course it is," he muttered.

Walter came down from the wall. "The deer haunch is ready."

They left Simon and Adam at the lower chamber and crossed the portal together. Walter carried the meat until the old road, but Christopher took it into the nursery alone.

Thunder waited upon the highest stone of her nest. She was still small enough to fit across a table, though her wings made her appear larger when spread. Thin lines of blue-white light moved beneath the dark scales along her neck.

She looked past Christopher for Godfrey.

"South," Christopher said. "He will return."

The dragon understood direction through the bond more easily than distance. He showed her the road, Northgate and the vague shape of a city he remembered from Christopher Drake’s life. Interest replaced irritation: a city meant noise, metal, meat and possessions belonging to other people. Christopher felt her greed before she tried to hide it.

"None of it is yours."

Thunder lowered her head over the meat. That did not feel like agreement.

He waited while she ate, then tried to explain that jumping onto him without warning hurt. Christopher walked from one end of the nursery to the other while Thunder watched from the nest. When he turned away, amusement touched the bond, but she chose not to leap.

On the first crossing, claws struck stone behind him.

Christopher turned. "Back."

The command passed through voice and intent together.

Thunder stared at him. Christopher pointed to the nest. Pride pressed against his mind: she was a dragon, and the idea of being ordered back onto a pile of stone offended something born inside her. Christopher did not move. After several breaths, she returned to the nest.

He crossed the room again. This time she waited until he reached the door before following.

They repeated the exercise until she remained through three complete crossings. On the fourth, she jumped down and bit the empty deer bone instead.

Christopher accepted that as enough for one morning.

When he returned to Dragonwatch, Walter had laid an old map across the council-room table.

The drawing showed the stronghold before the last abandonment. Time and water had erased half its marks, though the outer wall remained clear, along with the southern gate, western breach, eastern road and the inner castle.

Walter placed four small stones on it.

"If anyone attacks, these are the points that matter first."

Christopher touched the southern gate. "The obvious road."

"And the easiest ground for horses." Walter moved to the western mark. "The breach is narrow now, but the rubble gives cover. The eastern road rises. Harder for a large force, easier for scouts."

The fourth stone sat between the inner yard and the castle.

"Fallback?" Christopher asked.

Walter nodded. "If the outer wall is lost."

They spent the afternoon walking the walls. Owen joined them with a measuring cord, charcoal and a board. Giles Mercer and Peter Cobb carried tools. Gilbert and Ellis cleared loose stones from the western platform.

The old defenders had mounted heavy weapons there once. Iron sockets remained in the stone, along with a channel where a turning frame might have stood. Most metal had been stripped before Dragonwatch was abandoned, and what remained was rusted, bent or buried beneath fallen masonry.

Christopher crouched beside a thick iron pin.

"Can Barlow copy this?"

Walter picked it up. "He can copy the shape. The metal is another question."

"We have iron from the bandit camp."

"Enough for fittings. Not enough for everything."

Christopher looked along the wall. A wall arbalest would not stop a powerful Knight, but it could kill ordinary men, horses and Gruks before they reached the gate, and a clean hit could even threaten a Throk. More importantly, the weapon could be operated by people who were not Knights.

He remembered pictures, not measurements: a reinforced bow, a thick stock, a windlass and a heavy bolt. He knew what the machine should do, but not the exact proportions that kept it from tearing itself apart.

The old sockets showed that Dragonwatch had used something similar. The underground stores held preserved trigger pieces, windlass gears and several iron bolt heads, so they could copy an old design slowly instead of trusting a student’s memory.

"One first," Christopher said. "For the main gate. If it works, we build more."

Walter agreed.

They marked a place behind the gate where the weapon could fire down the road without blocking men on the wall. Then they moved west.

By sunset, Christopher’s boots were grey with dust and Owen’s board held more numbers than Christopher wanted to read.

Far south, Godfrey’s party made its first camp beside the remains of a burned farm. They had covered more ground in one day than the old convoy once crossed in two, and without wagons or families, the road felt almost empty.

Thomas arranged the watch. Simon checked the soft earth beyond the ruined fence. Adam cared for the horses with Nicholas. Martin set his spear within reach before sitting beside the fire.

Bram remained on his feet.

"Sit," Ivo told him.

Bram sat immediately.

Robin smiled across the flames. "You know he is not a dog."

Ivo met his eyes. "I know."

The smile faded.

Godfrey took the first watch. He stood beyond the firelight, facing north for several minutes before turning toward the road ahead. Nothing followed them.

Martin joined him after midnight with his spear and a blanket around his shoulders.

"You’re early," Godfrey said.

"Couldn’t sleep."

Martin’s attention shifted to the others. Bram lay beside the fire because none of the ruined farm’s remaining rooms had a doorway wide enough for him to enter comfortably in armor, his warhammer resting beneath one hand.

"Never been farther south than the Drake estate," Martin said. "Is the capital really as large as Griffin City?"

"Larger."

"Robin says a man can lose a month’s pay in one street."

"Robin can lose a month’s pay before reaching the street."

Martin laughed quietly.

He had grown thinner during the fever on the northern road. The weight had returned slowly at Dragonwatch, and so had his strength. Godfrey had watched him take his place in drills without asking to be excused or treated carefully.

"When we return," Martin said, "I want to take the qualification trial again."

"Your breathing still breaks on the sixth turn."

"Seven now."

"Then show me seven after we return."

Martin nodded. He planted the base of his spear in the cold earth and watched the empty road.

Neither man spoke about whether Dragonwatch would ever make him a Knight. He had no rare talent and no rich family to purchase medicine. What he possessed was patience, discipline and time — if the road allowed him to keep it.

They reached Northgate on the fifth day.

The city had changed little since Christopher’s convoy passed through it. More roofs had been repaired, and two new palisades stood beyond the old northern ditch. Soldiers watched every arriving rider, though the inspection consisted of names, allegiance and a look beneath their cloaks rather than hours of paper.

The guard recognized Godfrey.

"Dragonwatch?"

"Dragonwatch," Godfrey answered.

The gate opened.

Bram stared at the crowds until Godfrey spoke his name. Then he lowered his eyes to the road and kept the horse moving.

They took rooms at an inn near the western wall. Godfrey gave the apprentices one hour to eat and clean themselves. Nobody was allowed to leave alone.

Bram went with Ivo to the orphanage.

The children noticed the hammer first. Then they noticed the armor and the Dragonwatch badge fixed to Bram’s cloak. Several ran toward him before the matron stopped them from surrounding the doorway.

Bram stood frozen.

A small boy reached out and touched one of the leather panels beneath his arm.

"Are you a Knight?"

"No."

"Did you kill an Orc?"

"No."

"Is that hammer yours?"

Bram glanced to Ivo.

"Answer him," Ivo said.

"The lord gave it to me."

The boy looked impressed anyway.

Bram had brought most of his road allowance and tried to give every coin to the matron. Ivo took half back and told him he still needed to eat on the road.

Three older boys watched from the work shed. They were near Bram’s age, old enough that the orphanage would soon have to find places for them elsewhere. One had a cobbler’s stained hands. Another carried the heavy shoulders of someone used to unloading carts.

"Do they feed you there?" the broad one asked.

Bram nodded.

"Every day?"

"Every day."

The boys looked at one another.

The matron noticed. "Dragonwatch is not a warm bed and a free hammer."

"I work," Bram said.

"I know you do." She faced Ivo. "Are you taking boys north?"

"Not today," Ivo said. "We still have business in the capital. Anyone serious can speak to Sir Godfrey when we return."

He promised no armor, weapon or Knight training. Even so, the three boys remained near the doorway until Bram left.

While they were gone, Godfrey visited Mabel’s former teacher and asked after healers willing to travel north. He found two prospects rather than a trained healer: apprentices who might consider Dragonwatch after the summer, provided their families agreed and the pay was real. Godfrey left the offer open. He did not promise houses that had not been repaired or safety he could not guarantee.

Robin went with Thomas and Nicholas to purchase feed.

The stable merchant took their order, argued over the price and sent a boy to bring the sacks. Thomas remained at the counter. Nicholas checked the grain. Robin stepped outside to relieve himself.

A man in a brown travelling coat waited beside the alley well. He did not look at Robin when he spoke.

"Capital road?"

Robin’s hand tightened at his belt.

"I don’t know you."

"You know the merchant who spoke to you last time."

Thomas called from inside the stable.

The man dropped a small folded cloth beside the well and walked away.

Robin stared at it. A silver coin lay inside. He picked it up before Thomas reached the door.

"Problem?" Thomas asked.

Robin closed his fist. "Nothing."

That evening, Godfrey checked every saddle himself.

The party left Northgate at sunrise. Robin rode fifth in the line, the silver coin resting beneath his glove, warm from his hand.

Behind them, the northern gate closed.