Don Perrin - Theros Ironfield

Yuri was not convinced. “If there were evil gods, they’d be here,” he said softly.

Theros wouldn’t admit it, but he knew how the boy felt. Something dreadful was going on here, though no one spoke of it aloud. He could see it in the blank, cold stares of those they passed, in the voices that hushed the moment anyone came within hearing, in the faces that retreated back into shadows.

The other men seemed to feel the same, all except Uwel and Baron Moorgoth. The baron, in particular, was not in the least disquieted, seemed quite at home in the region. He ordered a halt for the evening at the north end of town.

That night, the baron called an assembly.

“I know you’ve all been wondering where we’re headed. For security purposes, I haven’t told any of you. It’s not that I don’t trust you, but ale has a way of talking, so the saying goes. The army has barracks in Gargath, northwest of here by fifty miles. We will join with them and prepare to move north. The campaigning season is nearly upon us.”

“North? How far north?” someone asked.

“We will move another hundred miles or so north of Gargath. There are some villages in the area that have proved to be rather stubborn about paying us for protecting them from bandits.” Moorgoth laughed, as if at some private joke. “I have reason to believe that we’ll find riches there and that we will have a very good year.”

With the plan laid out for them, the men all drank to the success of the army.

The next morning, they left Neraka and followed the path to Gargath. The next two days they spent in the mountains. By the start of the third day, they had crossed the Busuk Range and moved into the extended valley that lay ahead of them. By the middle of the fourth day, they entered Gargath.

At the first sight of Gargath, the hearts of the soldiers all cheered. It had been a long trip. A troop of cavalry, twenty strong, equipped with long spears and chain mail armor, rode up to meet them.

The troop commander saluted the baron. “Hail, sir. We’re glad to have you back. I see that your mission in Sanction was a success!”

“Yes, indeed. Tell Commander Roshenka to prepare to receive our new officers and men. Have him cook a special meal for tonight. I want to introduce our new warriors to the rest of the army.”

The young officer saluted and galloped off toward the town. The rest of the troop remained with the procession. Half an hour later, they entered the gates of Gargath.

Theros was amazed. The entire town looked as if it were here to do nothing but support and house the army. The streets were crowded with soldiers, along with their women and children, all gathered to cheer their commander and welcome him back home. The main street was lined with stables and barracks. An open plaza stood in the center of the town. Across the plaza was the army’s headquarters.

Moorgoth called his new officers together. “Here, gentlemen, is where you will be staying.”

He pointed to the headquarters building. Uwel Lors took Yuri and the other men aside and showed them their barracks. They marched off at a brisk pace, Uwel shouting commands as they moved. Theros watched Yuri a bit anxiously. The young man was not much of a marcher.

Sure enough, Yuri stumbled, almost knocking down the man in front of him.

Quicker than the eye could follow, Uwel lashed out with a whip he carried on his belt. The tip caught Yuri on the rear end. Yuri screeched, tumbled out of line. Uwel caught him, shoved him back in.

“Watch what you’re doing, fumble-foot!” Uwel commanded.

Yuri choked back tears. Theros could see blood on the young man’s backside. He almost said something, then stopped, remembering the blows he’d received from the minotaurs. He’d survived. A little discipline never hurt anyone.

The drivers moved their wagons through the plaza and exited on the other side. They were heading for the army assembly area, where the wagons would be kept until morning.

Theros and the other officers picked up their belongings and walked across the plaza to the headquarters building. They entered through the front door. Two guardsmen saluted.

A third soldier behind a desk rose to greet them. “Good day, sirs! I am Corporal Vincens, the headquarters troop orderly. If I can be of service, I will be here at this desk. But now I will take you to your rooms.”

The corporal led Theros up two flights of stairs and entered a long hallway. Three doors down, he stopped. Corporal Vincens opened the door. “Captain Ironfeld, this is your room. You are to meet down below at sundown for the officers’ meal. I will take you there.”

Theros entered his new room. The others continued on down the hall.

The room was spacious. A single bed stood by the window. The air was clean and breathable here in Gargath, a pleasant change from Sanction. Theros opened the window to let in some light and air.

The presence of the army definitely had its effects. Groups of soldiers were everywhere. Across from the headquarters, on the other side of the plaza, shops and markets were filled with people. This must be market day.

A knock on the door interrupted him. The sun was setting, and the air was turning cool.

“Time for dinner, sir.”

All of the officers in the army had gathered in the foyer of the building before the sun went down. The new officers were easy to identify in that they were not wearing the maroon uniform that was the hallmark of Moorgoth’s army. All of the other officers wore black trousers tucked into black boots. White shirts with black leather jerkins were covered by maroon surcoats, bearing the crest of the army. They all carried swords at their sides.

Theros shook hands with many of them, exchanging names and looking them over. Just as the sun slid below the level of the far building on the west side of the plaza, Baron Moorgoth strode into the room.

“Gentlemen! I see you have all met our new officers. Excellent! Let us go and eat.”

The crowd of twenty officers followed their commander down the hallway to the dining area. The tables were assembled in a long row, so that men could sit at each side of the tables to eat.

As they entered, Theros noticed that a woman in a fine dress was already sitting at the head table. Once all of the officers had found seats around the table, Moorgoth took his place beside the woman.

“Gentlemen, for those of you who are new here, please meet my wife, Charina Moorgoth.” The lady rose and bowed, and then sat down again.

“Her word is the same as mine. Her wishes can be taken as my orders.”

Moorgoth sat down and clapped twice, loudly. A row of soldiers entered the room, carrying flagons of wine, huge plates of meat, platters of fruit and vegetables, and baskets of bread.

The officer to Theros’s right introduced himself as Wirjen Jamaar, commander of the cavalry squadron. “So, Theros, what do you think of our little army here in Gargath?”

Theros was impressed. “I look forward to setting up shop and getting to work. I’m never happier than when I am banging metal into armor or a weapon.”

The cavalry officer, a tall man with wide shoulders, laughed out loud. He raised his goblet of wine and clanked it against Theros’s. “Good for you, Ironfeld! I am glad to have an officer who likes what he does. Tell me, have you ever worked horse armor?”

Theros was bewildered. “You mean armor for horses, or for horse soldiers?”

“Ah, you make me laugh, Ironfeld. I like that. I am, of course, talking about barding for the horses themselves. Have you ever done work like that?”

Theros shook his head no.

Wirjen scowled, slammed down his glass. “Damnation! I thought that Baron Moorgoth said he had acquired a qualified smith. What the hell good are you going to be to me if you can’t make armor for my horses? It is vital-”