Chapter 2

It was twilight by the time Brynn returned to the village. To his surprise, he encountered a flurry of activity in the village square. Guards were handing out crude spears and shovels to anyone able bodied enough to hold them, while others were carrying stacks of sharpened logs down to the docks.

A passing guard told Brynn that the mayor was in a long house that served as the community center. The soldiers at the entrance to it waved him through without a word. Inside, wooden benches that normally filled the interior were pushed to the side. Mayor Rhoddri stood at the center, surrounded by several sergeants of the guard. He was giving them orders about setting up a defensive line at the docks.

As soon as Brynn stepped inside, Rhoddri paused and focused on him.

“So, Druid, do you know how to fix the Fence?”

“No, but I learned of a grave threat that could affect all the realm. I need a small party to go with me into the Far Forest to investigate.”

Rhoddri sighed, visibly disappointed. “I can’t help you right now, Druid. Fisherman Bevan spotted a raiding party out in the bay, heading directly for us. Bevan discarded his catch so he could bring us the news as quickly as possible. Even so, we have only a day at most to prepare.”

He stepped up to Brynn. “We need all hands to defend this village, Druid. Including yours.”

Brynn began to object, but stopped, his mouth hanging open hesitantly. The crow’s vision was vague on how far away the Darkness was. The raiders were a known, and probably more immediate, threat. The Darkness would have to wait.

“Of course, good Mayor. I will do all in my power to protect Brightmyst.”

“First the Fence, then the crows, and now the raiders. The villagers are saying that’s three bad omens in a row.” Rhoddri shook his head with concern. “They’re expecting worse to come.”

So the villagers had seen the crows. Brynn considered telling Rhoddri the truth about them, but his thoughts were cut short when the mayor abruptly turned back to his guards and shouted an order at them.

“Segura! Give the Druid a spear and a shovel! He can help with digging the ditches down by the docks.”

---

Brynn spent the rest of the evening down near the docks, helping to dig a deep ditch in front of a hastily built palisade. As he worked, he learned more about the periodic attacks on Brightmyst. Raiders from the Clan Isles, small islands out beyond Emerald Bay, would sail into it when they could catch favorable winds, looking for easy targets to plunder. In the past, the villagers, in tune with sea and its weather, were prepared well in advance, and the raiders would usually pass them by. But the winds had shifted early this season, and the villagers were caught by surprise.

The small town couldn’t afford permanent fortifications, so it made do with a small wooden tower near the docks, which also served as a makeshift lighthouse. They added a temporary wall when invasion seemed imminent. The cove was too deep to construct a sea wall for the docks, so they defended themselves from the palisade as best they could.

Brynn’s muscles soon ached from shoveling, his robes, face, and hands grimed with dirt. Druids didn’t shy away from manual labor, but their expertise was with the metaphysical, not the physical, world. He kept pace as best he could. The primitive defenses weren’t complete until well into the night.

Shaman Edda came up to Brynn, her face just as dirty as his. She took one look at him, and then fished in her pocket, producing a small packet of herbs. “I was saving this for myself, but you look like you need it more. Make a tea of this before you go to bed and you won’t be so sore tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Shaman.” Brynn struggled to move his arms to receive the small package.

“Tell me, Druid, of this grave threat to the realm that you found.” They began to slowly walk to the village center.

Brynn recounted his vision to Edda, but stayed vague on how he obtained it.

“So you were the one who called on the crows! Oh, don’t give me that look, I know what they’re about. Your secret is safe with me,” said Edda. “Those feelings you had—they sound similar to what my apprentice felt. This Darkness, or whatever it is, it may be closer than we realize.”

The thought sent shivers down Brynn’s spine. “The Fence may have been protecting Brightmyst from its effects,” he said. “But with the magic weakening …”

“Or perhaps the Darkness is feeding on the magic of the Fence,” opined Edda. “That could be why it’s fading.”

That idea seemed even worse. If only Brynn could read the runes, he would have some clue as to the Fence’s purpose. He could take his drawings back to Galdir and surely have them translated there, but that could take weeks, and he was unsure how much time he had.

Brynn bid Edda farewell and made his way to the long house. The village’s only inn was full with merchants who couldn’t leave because of the impending attack. The long house had been converted to a temporary shelter for those with nowhere else to stay. He chose one of the straw mats on the floor and set his spear and small pack next to it. He smelled of dirt and sweat and bird droppings, but a bath would have to wait. As he settled down on the mat, he dimly thought about the the tea he was supposed to make.

He fell asleep instead.

---

A loud clanging brought Brynn out of a strange dream in which giant crows grasped him in their huge claws and tossed him through the air like a plaything. He briefly thought that he was waking up in the College of Galdir, with the ringing bell signaling the start of morning classes. His aching muscles brought him back to reality.

A villager burst in through doorway. “The raiders! They’re here!” she exclaimed.

The other tenants were already busy preparing themselves. Brynn pushed through his soreness and stood up. He grabbed his belongings and made his way down to the palisade, along with the other defenders. He saw the mayor already standing on top of the wooden tower.

Brynn climbed the tower’s ladder to join the mayor, his body groaning at the exertion. Mayor Rhoddri was looking at three longships anchored beyond the docks. By Brynn’s quick estimate, there were fifty to sixty raiders among the three vessels. The village population was at least twice that number, but the raiders were all hardened warriors. It would be a tough fight.

The largest man Brynn had ever seen was standing at the prow of the center ship. He was clearly the leader. A dark beard flowed down his chest and wild hair billowed in the sea breeze.

“That’s Kodroth the Quiet,” said Rhoddri, frowning.

“You know of him?” asked Brynn.

“Yes, we trade with some of clans. They’re not all violent and warlike. We pass along rumors and information to each other. Kodroth was a man of high rank in his clan, but he liked to talk a lot. Some say too much. Either he gave away some secret, said something indiscreet, or the chieftain simply got tired of listening to him. In any case, the chieftain cut off his tongue as punishment. Kodroth killed him in revenge and was exiled from the clan for it.”

Rhoddri gestured at the ships. “Some of his clan followed along with him. Now he sails up and down the coast pirating and pillaging what he can. It’s said that he’s trying to buy his way back into his clan’s good graces.”

Kodroth surveyed Brightmyst’s hurried defenses. He saw Rhoddri in the tower and smiled jeeringly at him. Then he pushed a small man, his herald, out in front of him.

For his stature, the herald had a loud voluminous voice. “The Almighty Kodroth demands that you surrender Brightmyst to him. Once we take what we want, we will leave, letting you live. If you refuse to surrender, we will raze your village to the ground and enslave any survivors. You have until the noonday sun to give your answer.”

Kodroth raised his fist into the air. The raiders on the longships cried out in response.

“Kodroth! Kodroth! Kodroth!”

He walked up and down the deck of his ship while they chanted and banged their spears on their shields in unison. Finally he returned to the prow and pumped his fist. The warriors let out bloodthirsty screams that echoed through the cove.

“Kodroth! Kodroth! Kodroth!”

He faced Brightmyst and held his hand up higher for a moment more. The warriors let out one more thunderous roar. Kodroth glared menacingly at Mayor Rhoddri. Then he stepped off the prow and sat down, awaiting the village’s response.

“I must confer with the village Council, Druid,” said Rhoddri. He turned to one of the guards. “Sergeant, notify me immediately if anything changes.” He climbed down the tower’s ladder, heading off to the village square.

Brynn looked back at the longships, and fought back a small pit of fear forming in his stomach. Those raiders could utterly destroy this town. He had to find a way to help.

---

Brynn paced distractedly around the Statue in the village square, trying to think of something he could do while the council decided their fate. He was not skilled in the art of battle. Was there something in the mystical realm that could help? He doubted that the crows cared enough about human affairs to give him any assistance. They would probably curse him with a month’s worth of nightmares if he made the mistake of troubling them again so soon.

He lost track of time and was so focused on his own thoughts that he nearly ran into Edda as she approached him. “Sorry, Shaman Edda!” he apologized.

Edda waved it away. “The Council has decided to fight the raiders, good Druid. They don’t trust Kodroth to hold his end of the bargain if we attempted any kind of parley. One of the merchants knows of Kodroth the Quiet and his old clan. It seems he swore an oath to his chieftain which he didn’t keep. As a consequence, the chieftain made sure he could never swear an oath again. He’s an Oathbreaker, Druid. There’s no sense in negotiating.”

At that moment, Rhoddri and the Council exited the long house and stepped out onto the village square. Rhoddri was dressed in full mail armor with a surcoat emblazoned with the insignia of Galdir. He had a sword sheathed at his side and held a polished helmet in his hands. The armor was of an older style but still well maintained, glittering in the approaching noonday sun.

Edda saw Brynn’s surprise. “I see that no one told you that Sir Rhoddri is a Knight of the Realm. He retired here after long years of service to the King.”

As if by an unspoken word, villagers and guards began to enter the village square, their hands gripping their weapons tightly and their faces grim.

“Gather ‘round, brave villagers!” Rhoddri drew his sword and brought it high into the air. “Gather ‘round!”

“I will not lie,” he told his audience. “Today we face a group of savage, seasoned, murderous villains. They seek to kill. They seek to enslave. They seek to destroy our homes. I am sorry to say that we must fight them. There is no alternative.”

“They think we are weak,” he continued. “Soft. We are mere fishermen, they say to themselves. Easy targets. They try to scare us with their chanting and their shouting. But they do not know us, do they?”

“Tell me,” he asked the crowd, “how many of you have braved the cruel ocean in the heat of the sun, the cold of the night, hauling catch after catch with your bare hands? How many of you have stared down the giant creatures of the fathomless deep? How many of you have endured the mighty tempests from the Storm goddess herself? Storms that shake the very seas in their fury?”

“Weak? Soft?” He spat at the ground. “They don’t know us, villagers. No, they do not. But I do!” He pointed his sword at the crowd. “I know you, Shekar, son of Yuda. I know you, Sabine, daughter of Emelyn. I know you all! You are each worth a hundred of them! More!”

He raised his sword high. “Today, we fight! Today, we fight for our families! We fight for our homes! We fight for the sea that gives us life!”

“Fight with me, people of Brightmyst, and I promise you that they will rue the day that they set sight on our town! Let us go and show the enemy our true mettle! For Brightmyst!” His voiced echoed through the village square.

“For Brightmyst!” the villagers cheered as they began their march down to the palisade.

The time to do battle with Kodroth had arrived.