friends have backed up to the line of soldiers, each giving me various nods and thumbs-up.
“Is no one willing?” asks the Jarl.
“It is Dragonhammer,” says one of the soldiers. “He is the mightiest of us all. If he does not win this battle, then no one will.” Other soldiers add their similar testimonies, nodding in agreement.
The Jarl gives me a solemn look. “Then the burden is yours, if you are willing to bear it.”
“Of course,” I respond sinisterly.
The soldiers cheer.
“We have nothing to do but to wait,” says the Jarl. “I fear that Kjunn will not be here in time. He has not shown up thus far. He could be afraid that the Tygnar forces will attack him. We have no way to know.”
“If he does not show up?” I ask. “I will not lose tomorrow. I will not let it happen.”
“I fear things are beginning to look quite dim,” replies the Jarl quietly. “We do not have the numbers to hold off their armies. If Jarl Kjunn does not come, I fear for each of us, and for our land, wives, and children.”
I nod slowly. “Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea,” I murmur.
The Jarl disagrees quickly. “Jarl Kjunn has never let us down before,” he says. “If we can pull this off, this will have been the greatest idea any of us have ever had.”
“And that’s saying something,” says Commander Magnus.
“Then we must not fail,” I decide. “We must not fail.”
The next morning, I awake feeling refreshed. It’s not until after breakfast that I begin to feel even slightly nervous.
Everyone tenses as the time draws nigh. Unsuccessfully men try to entertain themselves by sparring, playing card games, or other things. I give up and end up throwing my knives into a log over and over again. Dislodging, and then throwing. Dislodging, and then throwing.
I snack throughout the day rather than eat all at once. It’s a bad thing to go out onto the battlefield when you’re stuffed to the brim.
“You frightened?” asks Genevieve. She stands next to me and watches me throw my knives into the log, and then dislodge them, and then repeat the cycle.
“No,” I respond truthfully.
“You have much confidence in yourself,” she observes.
“I am merely not afraid of death if it chooses to find me,” I say. “But I am determined not to let him find me.”
She nods. “Of course.” I remove another knife and throw it into a knot on the other side of the log.
“I have something to give you,” she says.
“What?” I ask. “You have brought nothing.”
She stands close to me and looks up into my eyes. I refuse to face her, and instead only turn my head to look at her rather than turn my entire body. I see immediately where this is going and say, “I am not in need of any gift.”
“Who is?” she asks.
“I appreciate the feelings you have,” I say. “But I am sorry to say that I do not return them.”
She nods, stone-faced. “Very well,” she says. “I wish you luck.” Then she turns and walks briskly away into the camp.
“You are missing a huge opportunity,” whispers James in my ear. He nearly makes me jump out of my skin.
“I’d say I’m dodging an arrow,” I reply. “I truly feel nothing for her. Feelings create heartbreak, especially in times of war. It is best I leave that part of myself alone.”
“Understood,” James nods. Then he follows the commander into the camp.
Percival comes and sits next to me. “How are you feeling?” he asks.
“I feel alive,” I say. “And I don’t plan to let that change.”
He replies with a slight chuckle and a nod.
“I still need to see the world,” I say. “Beyond the mountains. To the ocean. To the floating farms of Poalai.”
“I will be there with you,” says Percival quietly.
“I know,” I say, looking him in the eye.
Then the horn blows.
“That’s your signal,” he says, getting up. “You’d best be going.”
“Yes,” I say as he helps me up. Together we walk into camp.
Soldiers, as I pass them, salute and say, “Luck to you, Captain Armstrong.” Some of them are calling me by Dragonhammer. The Jarl only gives me a nod and a pat, and says, “Khaoth be with you.” Genevieve merely nods.
“Good luck,” Percival says. “Though I don’t think you’ll need it.”
I nod. “I’ll see you in a few.”
He agrees, and shakes my hand. “I’ll talk to you in a few.”
James and Jericho each salute. “Good luck,” says the second.
“Fight and win,” says the first.