The rain started two miles from the Fortress. It washed the mud from Kael's face, but it couldn't wash the blood from Elric's saddle.
The old Knight was slumped forward, his breathing a wet rattle. He hadn't spoken since they crossed the ridge. He was holding onto consciousness with the same stubborn grit that had kept him alive for twenty years on the border, but the grip was slipping.
"Almost there," Kael shouted, though he doubted Elric could hear him.
The Fortress loomed out of the mist—a massive, grey slab of stone that looked less like a castle and more like a tombstone for the world below.
Kael led the horses up the final switchback. His own legs were shaking. He hadn't slept in thirty hours. He had killed a man. He had seen a monster factory. And now, he was terrified.
Not of the monsters. Of the door.
The main gates were closed. Barred.
Kael slid off Cinder and ran to Elric's horse. He grabbed the Knight's bridle.
"Ser! We're here!"
Elric groaned, sliding sideways. Kael caught him, buckling under the weight of the armor. He dragged the Knight to the muddy ground, propping him up against the heavy timber of the gate.
"Open up!" Kael screamed, pounding on the iron bands with his fist. "Open the gate!"
Nothing happened.
"OPEN IT!"
A small slat slid open in the main door. A pair of eyes peered out. Indifferent. Bored.
"Gate is sealed," a voice said. "Captain's orders. No refugees after sundown."
"I'm not a refugee!" Kael yelled. "This is Ser Elric! He's wounded!"
The eyes flicked down to the slumped figure in the mud. "Looks dead to me. Leave him. We'll collect the body in the morning."
The slat started to slide shut.
The rage didn't flare up this time. It exploded.
Kael drew his sword. The rusty blade he had pulled from a wolf's corpse. The blade that had killed a black knight.
He jammed the tip into the gap of the closing slat.
"If you close this," Kael said, his voice dropping to a whisper that cut through the rain, "I will burn this gate down. And I will find you."
The guard paused. "You threatening a Fortress guard, boy?"
"I'm telling you the math."
Kael ripped the sword back and held up something else.
It wasn't a weapon. It was a patch of cloth he had cut from the dead mercenary's tabard. Black silk.
The white ash sigil of the Broken Tower.
He slammed it against the wood.
"We found them! The Black Banner! They're building an army in Deep Scar! Look at it!"
The guard behind the door went silent. The sigil was a myth. A ghost story. Seeing it real... seeing the blood on it...
"Wait," the voice said.
Minutes passed. Elric coughed, a spray of red staining his beard.
"Elric, stay with me," Kael pleaded, gripping the old man's hand. It was cold.
"Don't... trust them..." Elric whispered. "The Captain..."
Then the gears ground. The chains rattled. The massive gate groaned open, just a crack. Just enough for two men.
Soldiers spilled out. Not to help. To surround them. Spears leveled at Kael's chest.
A man in polished silver armor walked through the line. He didn't look like Elric. He looked clean. He looked well-fed.
Captain Vane.
He looked at Elric, bleeding in the mud. He looked at the black cloth in Kael's hand.
"Where did you get that?" Vane asked.
"Black riders," Kael stared him in the eye. "We killed three. There's a camp. Hundreds of monsters.
Siege engines."
Vane took the cloth. He rubbed the silk between his thumb and finger. He looked at Kael—a dirty, bloody boy from the Ashlands holding a rusty sword.
"He needs a healer," Kael said.
Vane nodded to his men. "Take the Knight to the infirmary."
Two soldiers grabbed Elric and hauled him inside. Kael took a step to follow.
Spears crossed in front of him.
"Not you," Vane said.
"I'm his Squire," Kael lied. He didn't care if it was a lie. "I'm with him."
"You're a rat from the Ashlands," Vane said cold. "And you've seen things that rats shouldn't see."
Vane pocketed the Black Banner sigil. "Take the boy to the cells. We'll debrief him. Thoroughly."
Kael didn't fight. He looked at the closing gate. He looked at Elric disappearing into the fortress.
He had promised to survive. He had promised to make them remember.
He let them take his sword. But he kept the knife in his boot.
As they dragged him into the dark belly of the fortress, Kael didn't look down. He looked up. At the stone walls that had ignored his village.
I'm inside, he thought.
And that was all that mattered.
**END OF ARC 1: SURVIVAL**