stops once we are inside the gate, in the main plaza. I, however, force myself to continue forward to the front of the group where Jarl Hralfar stands. An official of Kera has come and is speaking to him.
“Lord Jarl Hralfar!” he says. “What- how-”
“You know from where we come,” the Jarl answers. “We are not the first group to come here, I hope.”
“No, certainly not! The others arrived here yesterday, late. We were about to send a dispatch out to Terrace, but it seems that will not be necessary!”
“No, it won’t. At least not yet. We seek housing and safety here until we can reclaim our city.”
“Where are the others?” I interrupt. “The others that came in?”
“Who is this?” asks the official with a slightly dismayed look on his face.
“This,” introduces the Jarl, “is the young man that single-handedly freed all of these men, and myself, from the clutches of Lord Swordbreaker.”
Swordbreaker? I think.
The official’s eyes widen and he looks at me with new respect. “The others are in the barracks at the foot of the fortress. Go through the city and you will find the barracks to the right of the stairway at the base of the mountain.” He turns to the Jarl and continues, “I will allow you to get settled there, but Jarl Kjunn will want an audience with you. I must carry this message to him quickly; I must go. Farewell, Lord Jarl Hralfar.” He runs off down the street towards the fortress.
“Let’s go,” I say quietly. “We need to get help as soon as possible.”
We make our way through the city. It’s organized into a few different sections such as market, housing, and military, and each section is structured with a grid-like pattern, though each section is slightly offset from the others.
Some of the buildings are built into the rocky bluffs of the city, and some are built in little neighborhoods on top of the small plateaus. Always the cobblestone street slopes slightly upward towards the fortress on the mountain.
Eventually the street becomes a wide stone staircase that climbs the mountain. After the first flight, the road evens out again with branches that lead to towers where the wall and the cliffs intersect. Large square structures, built into the mountain, sit on either side of the next enormous flight of stairs. These are built of stone brick, and are two stories high. The stairs wind up the mountain through a series of switchbacks, up to the front gate of the fortress.
Jarl Hralfar leads us inside the building on the right. Those inside turn their heads in complete surprise toward the company that enters. I notice that the room is full of bunk beds and end tables.
Immediately the room is full of babbling and hubbub of “How the dingflies are they here and alive?”
Men rush to their brothers. There’s embracing, tears of joy and pain, the latter from those who find that their brothers or fathers are not among the survivors. Gunther and Nathaniel find me and father in the mix.
“We thought we’d never see you again!” says my elder brother. “I thought you had gone to your death!”
“As did I,” says Nathaniel quietly.
“Father!” Gunther says, embracing him. Father’s weight falls upon him with a grunt, but Gunther still manages to stand.
“My son…” says our father.
As Father pulls away and hugs Nathaniel, I say to Gunther, “You doubted me.”
“Yes,” he responds. “And I was wrong to do so. I should have stayed and waited for you, at the very least. I am sorry.”
I stare him in the eye and rest my hand on his shoulder as father would. “You are forgiven.”
Father falls away from Nathaniel, leaning heavily on his makeshift cane.
“What’s the matter?” Gunther asks.
“Do not worry,” Father answers. “We are here. It will be okay.”
“What will be okay?” Nathaniel questions.
Father grips his wound and grunts in pain. I help him to a bed in the corner, where he lays down. Carefully I remove the bandage and show my brothers the source of his pain.
“Infection,” mutters Gunther.
“Oh no,” is all Nathaniel can say. He himself almost fell victim to infection when he hadn’t properly treated a scratch on a hunting trip. It was a miracle he lived.
“Took an arrow,” grunts my father. “Must’ve had something on it.”
“We need an expert,” I tell Gunther. “There’s got to be someone here who can help us. Someone was able to help us along the way to slow it down, but it hasn’t done enough.”