SFL 3 - Defiant Heart - Chapter 5

Chapter 5

It turned out that the camp they were in was not that of a normal patrol group. It was actually four separate patrol groups that had been dispatched together to watch this stretch of the border in the wake of the Bronze Fist’s unusual activity.

Each of the groups had two of the flying longships assigned to them for transport of those that did not have flying spirit beasts to assist them.

After his report to the patrol-captain, Casey was allowed to return to the tent he’d taken up residence in to rest for the remainder of the day. He intended to do just that, as the patrol-captain had told him that they would be shipping out early the following morning.

While he was able to maintain the façade of strength while outside the tent, as soon as Casey got back to his cot, he collapsed onto it. The brief walk in the aftermath of tending to his cultivation was outright painful, and he was wiped out. Vibeke had expected this and got him into bed while Magnus settled over him like a watchful guard-dog.

When Casey woke, it was the early hours of the morning. He could hear people stirring, but he could tell from the quiet words combined with more than a few resonating snores that it wasn’t time to get moving just yet, though the hour was likely getting close.

That’s about right, Maude said into his mind as Casey shifted on his cot. The sun should be rising soon. How is your side?

Casey gripped the hilt of Maude’s seax form sleepily so he didn’t have to respond aloud. He could tell from the sounds of breathing that whoever occupied this tent normally was here and sleeping.

Better, I think. It hasn’t started aching yet, just a bit itchy. I am a little worried that if I move too much, the pain will come back. But I’m used to that worry, too. Had to get used to it with the amount of fights I got into growing up.

I look forward to the day that we are able to get your revenge, Casey. That bastard has much to answer for, Maude’s mental voice was as neutral as normal, but Casey could hear the faintest hint of anger in her tone. That told him just how angry she was on his behalf, that some of it actually made it through the neutral mental tone she was forced to use in weapon form.

I’m not the only one who owes him a beating, Casey reminded her gently, hoping to calm his lover.

No, but you are the one who will be giving him the beating he richly deserves. What he’s done to you tells me he deserves to die. What does that knowledge imply he’s done to others? He deserves the blood eagle more than a beating.

Casey paused as Maude’s words percolated through his mind. He knew what the blood eagle was—it had made its way into pop culture, movies, and games after all. Ritually cutting away the ribs from the spine on someone still alive and then draping the living lungs over those splayed ribs like bloody wings was a gruesome fate.

Should I feel horrified at that thought? Or at the fact that it actually doesn’t bother me? Casey asked himself rhetorically, forgetting Maude would hear him in his distraction.

The line between just vengeance and brutality may seem thin at times, but rest assured that the bastard who tormented you deserves far worse than the blood eagle, Maude reassured him, and Casey felt ghostly arms wrap around his shoulders in a hug, like Maude was stretched out on the bed beside him.

You are not a monster, Maude reminded him after several minutes of silence. You are a man who was wronged by a being that is beyond the ability of many to hold accountable. So you are doing what you can to become powerful enough to hold him accountable yourself.

But is it right? I have these opportunities here, in this world. Shouldn’t I let go of the vengeance in my heart and instead focus on growing a better life here? Casey asked, letting one of his deep-seated worries rise to the surface.

Maude’s answer came with such vehemence that it made him twitch on his cot at her rebuke.

You would not be the man I love if you did. The man I love wouldn’t abandon the others of that world to the machinations of that beast, simply because it no longer affected him. He would work hard until he could remove the threat to innocents, now that he knows of it and can make a difference.

Casey took the rebuke from Maude with good grace, nodding silently in the shadows of the tent, even though she couldn’t really ‘see’ him with her eyes.

You are right, love. If there is one thing that is certain, it is that I cannot and will not disappoint my partner. And if her expectation is for me to grow to challenge a threat the gods hesitate to combat, then I will have to work hard.

Not just for me. But to make the world safe for young men and women as well, so that they do not become the prey of monsters.

The finality in Maude’s statement reminded Casey of that night, months previous, when he’d died on the dirty floor of a warehouse clutching his service knife after saving a trio of young girls. He’d been betrayed and ambushed. His partner had shot him in the back, and he was bleeding out. But even if his life had ended there without the opportunity Loptr had given him, he would have done it all over again.

The image of tearful faces filled with hope ghosted across his mind’s eye, and Casey hardened his resolve. He’d silently questioned his determination to challenge the Orange-Suited Man, but would no longer. He would have vengeance for himself and all those that the monster had harmed. There was no other way to prevent further atrocities.

Within his center, the flame that was his Soulforge flared higher, alloying his determination with the defiance he’d faced the Orange-Suited Man with in that place between worlds.

Casey felt his center shift as his Legacy began to change in response to his vow. He knew, like the formation of a world, it would take time. And though Casey had no idea what the final result would be, he knew that it would become a weapon he could wield on his chosen path.

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None of the aspirants-turned-refugees were expected to help break down the camp. When Casey tried to help anyway, he was chased off by the trio of large men whose tent he’d shared.

The three had insisted that if the ‘injured young drengr’ that had fought so valiantly against the Bronze Fist was seen helping them, they’d never hear the end of it. Since it was all said in good humor, Casey didn’t argue.

As was her habit, Vibeke stuck close to him while Magnus trotted along indifferently. The big elk did his best to pretend like he didn’t care, but Casey noted the elk keeping an eye on him as they followed their guide to the longship that would be taking them to the Roaring Mountain.

“Commander Lucas said that you two would be on the larger ship of the two,” rambled an older drengr as he walked ahead of their group. “That way, your gorgeous fellow here will have some space in the hold. It’s not going to be the most comfortable, but it’ll be better than having to be on deck if the winds kick up. And given that this is the Windsong Valley, the winds are definitely going to pick up.”

The older man had introduced himself as Dunbar when he had rounded Casey and Vibeke up and started ushering them towards one of the larger longships. He was a tall, broad fellow that reminded him of Einar, though the older man’s face was more heavily scarred than Casey’s friend. On Dunbar’s other side ambled a massive brown bear with a saddle strapped to his back, obviously the other man’s bonded companion, though Dunbar had not given his name.

“I’ll leave it up to Magnus which he prefers,” Casey said with a smirk. “I’ve learned over the last few weeks that giving him orders usually will result in him doing the exact opposite just to spite me.”

Magnus snorted in Casey’s direction and raised his nose in the air, the image of offended nobility, getting a laugh from Vibeke and Dunbar.

“Fair enough,” the older drengr said through his laughter before turning his attention to Vibeke with a serious look in his eyes despite his grin. “One thing you will learn is the same lesson this man has,” he indicated Casey. “If you do join the clan and earn yourself a bonded spirit beast, don’t forget that they have personalities and minds of their own. Work with them, not against them. Just like I know my girl doesn’t like to make decisions early in the morning, so it's the only time she lets me boss her around!”

Dunbar marked the end of his sentence by patting the ambling bear’s side, getting a grumbling noise out of the large creature and nothing else as it blearily focused on the ground in front of it.

“I’ll remember that, sir. But with Magnus and Casey around, I doubt it’ll be easy to forget,” Vibeke answered easily.

The spearwoman was walking without difficulty now, the injury to her leg having fully healed. The stiffness seemed to have faded out entirely as well. She still used the spear like a walking stick, but Casey guessed that was more a habit than a need.

Casey couldn’t help but envy Vibeke just a bit for her condition. While his wound was healing, it wasn’t fully recovered. It’d twinged when he sat up and would still ache or pull at odd moments, but it felt infinitely better than when he’d first fallen asleep with the cut in his side.

Their conversation continued for another few minutes as they joined the flow of the refugees and drengr that were loading up on the ships. While they walked, Casey learned from Dunbar that only two of the eight ships would be returning to the Roaring Mountain; the other six would continue their vigil on the border in case the Bronze Fist decided to do something else monumentally stupid.

Given how disappointed Dunbar had looked when explaining that part, Casey figured that most of the Roaring Mountain were hoping for the Bronze Fist to make that stupidity into reality. If they did, then there would surely be hell to pay for it.

But until that happened or word came back from the leader of the Roaring Mountain clan, they had to sit on their hands and wait. From the talk between Vibeke and Dunbar, even the young spearwoman was hoping that the Bronze Fist would do something stupid.

While Casey had seen the flying longships from a distance before, this was the first time he’d been able to actually look closely or even board one—he didn’t count the wrecked one he’d helped the aspirants escape.

So, as they approached the ramp that led onto the deck, he tuned out the conversation between the other two and focused on the ship as they got closer.

It was styled in a way Casey recognized as a traditional ‘Viking longship’ from the stories, with a long body and a shallow keel, though only by comparison to its length. The ship was easily over two hundred feet long and almost forty feet wide. A single massive sail hung furled on a thick mast at the center of the boat, while runes and scrollwork were carved all along the length of the ship’s hull. The overlapping boards were a pale, honey-colored wood that shimmered with qi, and a secondary set of ‘sails’ were furled along the body of the ship.

Those are used for steering when up in the air, much like a bird’s wings, Maude explained to him as he studied the side-sails. They can take their propulsion via the main sail and turn with it, as well as rise or fall with the side wings. Qi, enchantments, and the nature of the wood it is made of all work together to allow such a vessel to fly. 

It’s astonishing to see, Casey thought with a grin as they clattered up the solid ramp to the deck of the ship. Huh, not quite what I’d expected.

Even though it was larger than a traditional longship, the ship didn’t appear to have a traditional ‘hold’ like he was familiar with from various sailing movies he’d seen, or even a deck like the longships in books he’d read.

The outer eight to ten feet of the decking were solid, with a raised railing and lip about waist high to denote the edge of the ship. In the center, all around the mast, the deck dropped off into a shallow pit that Casey was sure went nearly all the way to the hull. While there was railing on the outer hull, there was no railing between the deck and this inner pit.

Large sheets of canvas were rolled up on either edge of the pit that Casey wondered at until Maude filled him in.

That’s to cover cargo or the passengers if it rains, Maude explained.

Really? No cabins or anything? Casey asked as they navigated the smooth decking.

These ships are built with a shallow draft, since they follow the pattern of river raiders’ vessels. Which means they don’t have nearly as deep a keel as the seagoing ships you might be familiar with. The goods transported on them are either lashed down on the deck or stored between the hull and the deck in that inner area. It looks like the Roaring Mountain house their spirit beasts that cannot fly in there when they go on their patrols.

There are likely bunks built under the deck for the drengr to sleep, too. Only the ship’s captain would have an actual room to themselves, and that’s only if they want one.

Before Casey could respond, Dunbar hurried them to the central pit of the deck and had Casey guide Magnus down the steep ramp built there for the larger animals to travel down, which he did with feigned aplomb, and the Gladewalker Elk only slipped once for a short distance before he found his footing.

Just as Maude had guessed, there were sets of bunks set underneath the deck, narrow enough that it would be a tight fit but at least out of the weather.

All along the outer edge under the thick deck, there were divided sections that gave a modicum of privacy along with a hanging canvas curtain that could be drawn to block anyone’s view if someone was changing. The space was barely four feet tall and hard to move in, but if one sat on their bunk it was comfortable enough.

Magnus plunked himself down at the first empty bunk he came to, stuffing his furred rump under the deck so that only his head and antlers protruded to allow others by. Vibeke gave him a pat on the head for being a ‘thoughtful boy’ before taking the bunk on the other side of Casey.

“Make yourselves comfortable,” Dunbar advised as he urged his own ursine companion further along to an open space that was exposed to the early morning sun. “Traveling aboard these patrol ships may not be the most cozy, but you cannot argue with the speed. Someone will be bringing food around shortly. Commander Lucas wanted us in the air as quickly as possible.”

Casey stripped off his pack and tossed it onto the bunk behind Magnus, glancing over his shoulder to check his companions ‘line of fire.’ Magnus was lying on his side, with most of his body tucked under the deck. This put the animal’s rump angled away from Casey and Vibeke, which Casey was glad for.

I don’t have to worry about Magnus doing a dutch oven on me in the night, thankfully, Casey thought, easing himself down onto the bunk.

The bed was more of a hammock than a traditional bunk. There was a thick plank for him to sit on at the edge, but the inner section was interwoven ropes covered over with several thick hides. Spreading his bedroll on top of that would give him a cozy place to sleep for the night, though he wondered if it would get cold with them flying and moving at speed.

I guess we’ll find out. I can’t blame Lucas for wanting to hurry and get the report back to their leader. The Bronze Fist violated the border and attacked drengr from the Roaring Mountain.

I wonder if this is going to be enough to start off a clan war?