“You deal with the cold well, for a southerner,” remarked Lanmore, as they took their meal.
“I am cold, sir,” said Lee. “But there's no point in complaining. Besides, I have to set an example for the men.”
“Quite right, Barath,” he replied. “Quite right, indeed. You'll do well here. And don't worry. We'll be south soon enough.” Lanmore alluded often to the coming war, but never divulged anything useful. “Thanks to you we're far ahead of schedule. It's a break in protocol, but you will stay with the officers when we arrive tomorrow. I think you'll find it more pleasant than the recruit barracks.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Lee. He stared deep into the camp fire, pleased. Perhaps the officers would have information on his wife. And it would separate him from Jacob. Should things go badly, Jacob would need time to escape.
“If you wish to speak to your nephew,” Lanmore added. “You should do so before we arrive. It's unlikely you'll see him again anytime soon. Officers and soldiers train separately.”
“I'll do that tonight,” Lee replied.
Lee finished his meal then went to seek out Jacob. He found him playing dice and passing around a small flask of brandy with several other recruits at the far end of the encampment. When they saw Lee, they jumped to their feet and stood at attention.
“Jasper, come with me,” Lee commanded.
Jacob nodded and followed Lee away from the camp.
“Did you find out where Mother is?” asked Jacob.
Lee shook his head “Not yet. But I'll be staying in the officer’s barracks when we get there. I hope to find out more then.” He placed his hand on Jacob's shoulder. “If I'm discovered, I intend to bring down hell upon Angraalbefore I go. If that happens, run. Keep to the woods. Avoid towns until you are south of the Razor Edge Mountains, then make your way to the Goodbranch and take a riverboat to Sharpstone.” He handed Jacob six gold coins. “Hide these. It's enough to get you to Millet.” he saw a flash of defiance in Jacob's eyes. “There can be no debate. If things go wrong, it won't take them long to come after you. If I fail and they capture you, all is lost. You must survive.”
“I will do as you say,” said Jacob.
“I'm so very sorry,” said Lee, forcing back a tear. “But I'm about to hit you.”
Jacob stepped back. “What?”
“As we speak, Captain Lanmore watches. It must seem as if I don’t care about you. It will keep his attention on me.” Lee clenched his fist. “Are you ready?”
Jacob nodded.
Lee's fist connected with Jacob's jaw, sending him tumbling to the ground. He looked down at Jacob, using all his will power not to rush to his side. “You're on your own, boy.” He made sure his voice carried far enough for all to hear, then marched back to his bedroll.
“Didn't go as well as you hoped?” Lanmore, spoke not from amusement but from curiosity.
“It went as expected,” said Lee. “As you said, they have to find their own way.” His heart was aching. He glanced over to see Jacob stumbling back to camp, holding his jaw.
Lee bedded down, trying to slow his mind. Thoughts of punching Jacob mingled with fears of his son being captured, made sleep impossible. At dawn, he mustered the men and had them ready to leave in short order. Every time he came close to where Jacob stood, shame washed over him. But at least hitting him seemed to have the desired effect. Twice as many recruits ate with him during the noon respite, and Lanmore made no mention of him at all.
As the afternoon wore on, Lee noticed more and more buildings and houses, mostly crafted from small gray stones, common to the region, lining the road. There were a few farms here and there, but the fields were barren this time of year. Lee reckoned Angraalimported most of its food supply up the Goodbranch, from Baltria.
An hour before dusk, the city of Kratis came into view as six massive black spires broke the horizon. Lee saw them very clearly, even though the city walls were still five miles away. Lee stood in awe of the sheer scope of the city. Construction of such magnitude should have taken decades at least, and the skills implemented Lee had believed were only known to the master builders long ago. Not even the ruins of the forgotten kingdoms of old boasted buildings of such height. The city of Kratis had indeed been the seat of power in Angraalin the distant past, yet Lee had never imagined as much more than a place the size of Hazrah.
Captain Lanmore notice Lee staring at the towers. “We’ll not be going that far. Not just yet.”
“I didn’t know buildings of such scale were still possible,” said Lee, unable to hide that he was impressed.
“Kratis is being rebuilt,” said Lanmore. “In the time of King Ratsterfel, it was the greatest city in the world. The Reborn King has found the secrets of the ancients, or so I’ve been told, and will see it returned to its former glory.”
“So it would seem,” said Lee.
The garrison came into view minutes later, and was nearly an exact copy of the one in Whiterun Pass, only four times the size, and Lee guessed that it housed at least fifteen hundred men. Lanmore halted them at a narrow road leading east just before the fort, and ordered the soldiers to escort the recruits to their barracks. Lee was told they were a mile west of the main garrison. He knew this may present a problem if things went wrong, but there was little he could do about it.
“You will come with me,” said Lanmore. “I need to present you to Lord Pollus, the garrison commander. He's a bit of a pompous ass, but a competent leader. Keep quiet and only speak when spoken to.”
Lee followed Lanmore to the gatehouse. Two guards halted them.
“And you are?” asked the guard.
“You know very well who I am.” Lanmore stepped forward bringing his face an inch from the guards. “Are we to do this again?”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, sir,” he replied, with disdain. “I simply didn’t recognize you.”
The guards smirked then stepped aside and allowed Lanmore to pass, but stepped in Lee's path when he tried to follow.
“He's with me,” said Lanmore. “Allow him to pass.”
“Not until I get word from Lord Pollus…Captain.” The guard stiffened his back. “Until then, he can wait here with us.”
Lanmore glared at the guard, then stalked into the fort. Lee waited silently. The guards didn't seem interested in speaking, and completely ignored him. After ten minutes, the captain returned and shoved a piece of parchment into the guard’s chest. He motioned for Lee to follow.
“They can't stand it when a commoner advances through the ranks,” explained Lanmore, as they passed through the gatehouse. “In their mind, only a lord should command.”
Lee cracked a smile. “In my experience, if only lords commanded, it would take a year to march an army ten miles.”
Lanmore threw his head back in laughter. “I wouldn't repeat that in the officers’ barracks. Especially round those bloody Baltrian fools. Most will run straight to Lord Pollus, to try and curry favor. And frankly, he isn't known for his humor.”
“I'll keep that in mind.” Hearing that Baltrian lords would be near did not ease Lee's mind. He hoped that they were too young to recognize him.
The main yard was filled with soldiers drilling and marching. About three-hundred men in all. The barracks were as high as the curtain wall, with two catapults placed on each of the flat roofs. The keep was much larger than in the other fort as well, standing two stories high and covered with arrow slits capable of raining down terror inside the parade yard, should the walls be breached. The clash of metal, stomping of boots and shouting of orders roared through the air. Lee marveled that the sound did not carry outside the fort, or even through the gatehouse. The design must have held its own secrets. Even the catapults appeared sophisticated compare to others he'd seen. He saw only a single hand crank, and a long metal tube placed just above the arm. Lee guessed that it held the shot. If a single soldier could operate it, instead of the usual four, it would be a devastating weapon. A lone platoon could wreak havoc.