Horde (Razorland #3)(84)

But I lifted my chin and strode past the onlookers like I had a right to be there. Five people sat waiting, three men and two women, all in late middle age, I guessed, according to Topside life spans. The men stood when I approached and gestured me to a seat. I glanced over my shoulder at Vince Howe, who sat beside me. He spoke all their names, but I didn’t bother learning them. If any of them proved a worthy ally, then I would.

“This is the leader of Company D.”

Remembering my manners, I extended a hand to each of them and gave my best “I mean business” shake. Then Howe went on, “Last night, I mentioned how much her men helped us and what they sacrificed to see our goods safely here.”

“What would you like in recompense?” a fair-haired woman asked me.

She expected me to request money to trade in town, possibly provisions or the right to our current lodgings for as long as we liked. But I surprised them.

“Volunteers,” I said bluntly.

Two of the council members exchanged a look. “For what?”

You promised Stalker you’d see this through.

“The army. We lost good men defending Winterville and more on the way here. The only way we can defeat the horde is to build a force capable of meeting them on the field. Lorraine’s a strong town with good walls and sound defenses. You can spare some men for the fight.”

“I understand the urgency,” the councilman said. “We’ve had reports about Appleton, and I’ve been expecting to see Muties on the march for days now. But what if men don’t step up?”

“Then we draft them,” Howe snapped.

A young woman took requests for food; I let Vince Howe choose mine. Soon after, she delivered our plates, along with fresh bread. The speed and luxury of it amazed me.

I ate while they debated the morality of such a course. It was something like the lottery in Otterburn, only the men chosen would end up joining Company D instead of being sent out as sacrifices. To my mind, this was better, as they had a chance of coming home. The discussion raged all through breakfast, and I didn’t hurry them along because I was enjoying the food so much. Fluffy scrambled eggs and hot buttered muffins, warm tea and a dish of fruit; it reminded me of the feasts Momma Oaks used to make. If I succeeded out here, maybe one day she’d have her own kitchen again. Between my desire to give my family a new home and my promise to Stalker, there was no way I could quit this task. I’d see the Freaks defeated or die in the attempt.


By the time I ate my fill, the council had made up its collective mind. “We’ll call all able-bodied men—”

“No,” I cut in. “Not just men. Everyone over the age of thirteen, male and female. If they’re willing to learn to fight, we’ll teach them. They only need to be brave enough to come with us. Company D will handle the rest.”

That sparked another round of argument, but Vince Howe gave me an approving nod. I guessed he didn’t see a problem. While they bickered, I had seconds on eggs and muffins, and wondered if the townsfolk had fed my men this well. Eventually they decided I was right, and that the call to action might even go better if they permitted my request.

So an hour later, we gathered outside the town hall with men running through town ringing their bells and shouting, “The council requires all citizens to gather at once.”

It didn’t take as long as one might imagine, so I figured they weren’t used to this kind of commotion in Lorraine. I let Vince Howe speak for Company D since he was known, and his account of our deeds and sacrifices had the crowd rumbling in awe. When he tilted his head at me, that was my cue.

“You’ve heard what we’ve accomplished and what we intend to do. If you want to give your families more someday, more than just four walls, then join us.”

At first nobody moved. But then Fade stepped forward with the banner Momma Oaks had made. The rest of the men began their drills, showing what our joint training had taught them. A surprised murmur stirred the townsfolk, and then the impossible happened—what I had been working toward from the beginning. Men and women, boys and girls, all of those old enough and bold enough to meet our needs, rushed forward, eager to take their place in our ranks, more willing bodies here than I’d dared dream.

This is for you, Stalker, this moment … and every battle henceforth.

Somehow, I hid my startled exultation. “Then line up,” I said, “and give us your names. There’s a war on.”

three

terminus

“For then,” he said, “the king himself can’t part us.”

—George MacDonald, The Day Boy and the Night Girl

War

That day in Lorraine, we more than doubled our number. Company D remained in town for two more weeks while we offered rudimentary training. It wasn’t enough for the dangers we’d face in the wilderness, but scouts reported activity in Appleton; part of the horde was on the move. So we had to march, though our war band was still too small to face them.

By nightfall, we were camped alongside the river. I wished Stalker were here to offer tactical advice, but I’d left him planted in the ground, and I owed him a decisive victory. While the rest of the men tended to mundane tasks, I called a meeting: Fade, Thornton, Tully, Spence, and Morrow. They were my most experienced warriors, so it made sense to ask their advice.

“Of all the recruits, you’ve seen the most combat. What’s the best move?”