Dragon Mage 3 Chapter 2: Send Off (Patreon)

369 days until the Arkon Shield falls

A small crowd of villagers had formed at the west gate. 

Huddled together, the former slaves watched the long lines of Sierra archers and spearmen march out of the settlement. I wondered if they had gathered because they were pleased to see our soldiers go or if because the thought worried them.

“There’s grandfather,” William said. Tugging on my arm, he pulled me through the crowd to the fore where I spotted Thursten’s distinctive crop of silver hair. Tara, Giselle, and Petrov were with him.

“Look who finally decided to join us,” the warren captain said with a smile as the four turned around at our approach.

I mock-glared at her. “I’m a busy man, you know.”

Giselle snorted but didn’t comment further as I exchanged greetings with the others.

“Where’s Arneson?” I asked Thursten.

“Questioning Jhaven,” the old man replied.

I grimaced. As the village’s leader, Arneson should have been here for the send-off of his allies, and I wondered what sort of message he was sending his people with his absence.

Seeing my expression, Thursten said softly, “Don’t think too harshly of him, lad. More than most, Arnie knows the horrors of war. It is what drives him.” He paused. “You are much like him in that regard, you know.”

My lips tightened at the comparison, but I said nothing.

“Diplomacy, politeness, and the other niceties of society,” Thursten continued, “they are of no concern to Arnie, because in war, they mean nothing.” The old man held my gaze. “He has been shaped by his past—and not lovingly. Look beyond the abrasiveness to the man within, if you can.”

“You’ve gone through the same things he has,” I said, but left unspoken the rest of what I wanted to say: Yet you turned out differently.

Thursten shook his head. “Not quite. We may have fought in the same wars, but Arnie has lost more than I have. Much more. Don’t discount what he has to offer.”

I studied the former rebel leader in silence for a moment. At seventy years old, Thursten was the only other truly old human I’d met in Overworld. All the others, including Arneson, his lifelong friend, had started with a Clean Slate. And while I’d only known Thursten for a little over a day, I’d grown to respect and trust his judgment. 

If he wanted me to give Arneson another chance, well, I could bend that much. And perhaps Thursten was right, perhaps I was being too harsh on Arneson.

God knows, I have enough faults of my own.

I turned to Tara who had been quietly listening to our exchange and changed the topic. “John is still at the east pass?”

“He is,” she confirmed. 

It was through the eastern pass that the orcs had originally entered the valley, and it was a fair bet that any scouts or reinforcements Fagan and Jhaven’s superiors sent to investigate would enter the same way. 

“Lance is with Arneson,” the Sierra captain added after a moment.

Tara did not say it, but I could tell she was no more comfortable with leaving Arneson alone with Jhaven than I was.

I nodded, accepting her reassurance for what it was, and turned to address Petrov and Giselle. “Well, you two, I guess this is goodbye.”

Giselle was on her way back to the brown spider warren with two hundred soldiers, while Petrov was returning to Sierra with the five hundred soldiers he’d brought along. After they left, Tara would have only one hundred Sierra soldiers under her command. 

It would be impossible for her to defend Sanctuary, let alone the valley housing it with such a small force, but then, that was not Tara’s mission.

Sanctuary had a population of nearly four thousand souls. It would be up to them to field their own army. Both Thursten and Arneson were convinced they could muster a force of at least a thousand, which Tara and the hundred soldiers under her were staying to help train.

“Oh, I expect to see you soon enough,” Giselle said with a laugh. “You never seem able to keep out of trouble, and I’m sure the old lady will send us to haul your ass out of whatever hot water you land in next.”

I smiled. “Probably.” I glanced around but failed to spot what I was looking for. “Where’s Bunny?”

Bunny was the inappropriately named brown spider queen. She was Giselle’s constant companion these days, not quite a familiar, but something akin to one.

Giselle chuckled. “She’s already at the head of the column and is raring to go.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“Bunny is eager to get back to the warren,” the tall captain replied. “Her latest clutch is almost ready to hatch, and the ones from the first batch are nearly mature.”

My brows rose in surprise. “You’re talking about the spiderlings? Are you saying they’re almost full-grown?”

“I am,” Giselle confirmed. “By the time we make it back, the warren should be playing host to its first adult spiders—not counting bunny, of course.”

“Of course,” I murmured absently, my mind still spinning with the implications. As I well knew—having tasted their paralyzing bite myself—the brown spiders were a force to be reckoned with on their own. Paired with humans, they would only be more effective. “I assume you have plans already for integrating them into the warren guard?”

Giselle smiled wolfishly. “That I do.”

“Wow, more spiders,” William exclaimed. Unbeknownst to us, he’d been following the conversation with avid interest. “Does that mean you’re going to ride them?”

Laughing, Giselle leaned down before the boy. “No, we aren’t. None of the other spiders are as large as Bunny.”

“Oh,” he said, deflating. “What use are they then?”

“You’ll see for yourself soon enough,” she said, ruffling the boy’s hair. “I expect the old lady will post a detachment of the spider guard here once they’ve been properly trained.”

“Spider guard?” I repeated as she rose back to her feet.

Giselle grinned. “I’ve been toying with the name. Do you like it?”

“Well, it’s certainly better than Bunny,” I allowed.

Giselle’s grin only broadened in response. Hugging William, she said her final farewells to everyone before slipping out of the settlement gate, and I turned to the silently waiting Petrov.

“Well, Jamie, it’s been a pleasure,” the captain said, engulfing my smaller hand in his much larger one.

“Truly?” I asked doubtfully. Of all of Sierra’s captains, I knew Petrov the least well. The big man was never one to say much and I’d always gotten the impression he disapproved of me.

“Truly,” he said, disabusing me of the notion. “Whatever else can be said of you, you always get the job done. You did well here.”

“Thank you,” I replied, touched by his praise.

He released my hand. “Don’t forget, you have seven days. The convoy will not wait.”

I nodded. The delegation the old lady was sending south would leave the moment Petrov’s company returned.

The return trip to Sierra would take the soldiers much longer to complete than the one to get here. This time around, they would be hauling the steel armor looted from the orc company as well as the broodworm’s chitin remains.

Despite the damage Ash and I had wreaked on the battlefield, the dragonfire we had laid down had not been concentrated, and most of the orcs’ gear had survived unscathed.

All told, the battle loot made for a sizable pile, and without wheeled conveyance, the soldiers would be forced to haul everything on simple sleds alone. No easy task given the rocky terrain surrounding Sanctuary. Petrov estimated that at the best pace they manage, it would take his company a week to reach Sierra. 

Alone and unburdened—even with my limp—it would take me two days to make the same trip, which left me only five days to wrap up my affairs in Sanctuary.

It’ll have to be enough.

“I’ll be there,” I promised, then glanced at Thursten. “Are your smiths going along?”

The village councilor nodded. “They are, though none of them are exactly excited about doing so.”

At my quizzical look, Thursten snorted. “The fools refuse to believe your village has a forge capable of melting the orcs’ armor.”

“Anton will quickly convince them otherwise,” I assured him. 

None of the orcs’ armor nor the broodworm’s carapace would go to waste. Anton and his fellow smiths would reforge the orcs’ gear to pieces sized for human warriors. In the process, they would train Sanctuary’s own small contingent of smiths, who lacking a forge of their own and a ready supply of ore, were still relatively unskilled. I was sure, too, that Sierra’s head crafter, Melissa, would find a use for the broodworm’s armored carapace.

Turning back to Petrov, I clasped his arm. “See you soon.”

The big man grunted in acknowledgment, and then without further ado, he marched out of the west gate to join their waiting column.

✵ ✵ ✵

“Close the gate,” Thursten ordered after the last of the Sierra soldiers disappeared from view. The crowd of villagers had already dispersed, leaving only Tara, Thursten, William and myself at the gate.

Tara glanced my way. “What are your plans for the day, Jamie?”

I rubbed my chin, thinking of all the things requiring my attention. I’d left a message for the old lady and needed to check back on her response. There was also the gear taken from the orc camp to inspect—not everything had been sent south, only what could be reforged. There was also Jhaven’s staff to examine, not to mention, the shaman himself to speak to.

“I’m not sure,” I said at last. “What are you going to be doing?”

“Training recruits,” she replied, making a face. “Thursten, here, has promised he’ll have a hundred men and women ready to begin today,” she added, sounding skeptical.

“And never fear, you will, lass,” Thursten said firmly. “In fact, I expect Kara should already have everyone assembled and waiting outside the east gate. If you’re ready, we can head to the training ground now.”

The newly dubbed training grounds were located on the site of the former orc base, the orcs having already done the work of flattening the land.

“Cousin will be training too?” William asked, interjecting himself into the conversation again.

Kara, it turned out, was the boy’s older cousin, and he seemed quite intrigued by the notion of her joining the fighters.

“She will,” Thursten said with a laugh. “I’ve finally convinced her of the necessity. He tugged on the boy. “Come along, let’s go find her.” Pausing, the old man glanced questioningly at Tara.

“I’m coming,” she said. Following on his heels, she looked over her shoulder at me. “Come and see me when you’re done for the day.”

“I’ll do that,” I replied. Watching them leave, I wondered which of my own errands to attend to first.

Jhaven, I decided. 

It was time for the shaman and I to have a much longer chat.