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The pounding at his door led to him bark, “Come in.”
A grim Lomar burst into his room, sword out, exclaiming, “The prisoner escaped.”
Kormac nudged the body with his foot. “I found him.”
“Son of a whore,” Lomar swore. “He came after you?”
“With a knife, and he might have killed me, too, if I’d not woken.”
“I wonder if assassination was his intent all along.” Lomar scowled but not as mightily as Kormac.
“Someone let him loose. I want them found.”
“It’s hard to imagine anyone helped him,” Lomar stated with a shake of his head. “The guard who had the key to the cell is dead. I found him in the cell after Melody woke me in hysterics.”
“Melody?” Kormac questioned.
“Kitchen maid. She was bringing the night guards their meal and came across the carnage. It seems Ioan left a string of bodies on his way out of the dungeon. Every single guard in Ioan’s path is dead.”
“All of them?” Kormac couldn’t help his surprise. Ioan hadn’t seemed like the most adept of fighters.
“Yeah. Hence why Melody came screeching to find me. The moment I saw what happened, I came to find you.”
Kormac debated mentioning the voice but decided to keep that information to himself. Dead men didn’t talk.
“Given what the traitor attempted, I’m now more curious than ever as to what really happened at the garrison.” Kormac headed for his wardrobe to change from his nightclothes.
“You think Ioan lied?”
“I think the traitor found a convenient excuse to get inside the citadel.” Already bare-chested, Kormac slid on a shirt, the sleeve catching on the bracers wrapped around his forearms. While ornamental in appearance, they also offered protection when used to block a blow and apparently now occasionally glowed. Why? What about Ioan triggered them?
“I can leave now instead of dawn,” Lomar offered.
“Dawn is soon enough since I’m coming with you,” Kormac stated, ditching his breechcloth for britches.
“Is that wise? We don’t know what we’ll find.”
“Which is why we’ll bring a battalion with us. I want fifty men ready to go by first light.”
They actually set out earlier, the selected soldiers eager to ride, especially since they might get a chance to fight. Peaceful times led to bored soldiers.
Kormac led the battalion with Lomar keeping watch at the rear as they galloped on their war horses, fully outfitted in battle gear. Everyone came armed to the teeth: swords, daggers, bows, axes. Better to be prepared than caught off guard.
It took them several days of hard riding before they came in sight of the mountain named Andeir that stretched as far as the eye could see, impassable due to its height and sheerness but for a single pass. The fort sat on a gravel road a few hundred yards from the passage through the high peaks, the building made of stone blocks, sturdy and old. Very old. Also, highly defensible with only narrow window slits, perfect for firing arrows. A single massive gate at the front led inside to a courtyard and even if someone breached that, the fort itself had a portcullis that could be dropped over its entrance, making it virtually impenetrable. The walls had a slight lean outward, making them difficult to scale. From the base of the path going up, they could see the peaked roof of the watchtower which faced the Pass.
“Leave the horses here,” Kormac ordered, not liking the treacherous look of the road slicked with ice.
Five men were left behind to watch their steeds. The rest of the battalion, led by Lomar and Kormac, set out on foot. The mid-afternoon sun provided a bit of warmth, and yet they’d neither seen nor heard any signs of wildlife. No scampering squirrels or birds. Not even a breeze to rustle the branches. The eerie stillness had them all on edge, the soldiers finding reassurance in gripping their weapons.
Kormac, though, pursed his lips as he glanced around. No sign of anyone or anything.
As they plodded slowly up the road to the gate, Lomar pointed to the ground. The light dusting of snow was undisturbed. “No tracks,” he remarked.
“If it fell overnight that’s not surprising,” Kormac murmured. As they neared the garrison, he noticed the lack of soldiers manning the ramparts. Heard not a single challenge to their approach. To his disquiet, the gate had been left slightly ajar.
Before Kormac could say or do anything, Lomar bolted past, axe in hand. His second wasn’t about to let his warlord walk into an ambush. At least that would be his claim. More likely he wanted first shot at any threat.
Kormac followed more cautiously. His tread crunched in the snow that had crystalized in the sun.
