A Grant of Arms

CHAPTER TEN

Reece balanced on the edge of the cliff, pressed up against the stone, hands shaking, clutching for dear life and looking down over his shoulder in horror as he watched Krog plummet past him, screaming and flailing into the mist. Reece’s heart sank. Krog was surely dead. They had already lost one of their valued Legion members, and Reece could not help but feel that it was his fault; after all, he was the one who had led the rest down here.

Reece’s hands and feet were shaking, and he wondered how much longer he himself could hold on—and how much longer the rest of them could, too. He didn’t feel like they could make it much longer—and he still didn’t know if the bottom even existed. Had he been reckless to pursue this?

But suddenly there came a nice surprise—Krog’s screams ended abruptly and were replaced with the sound of Krog impacting something. It sounded like branches, like twigs snapping, and it was all closer than Reece could have ever imagined. He was shocked: had Krog hit bottom? Was it so close?

Reece felt encouraged as he looked down into the swirling mist, knowing Krog was not too far below. Maybe even, Reece hoped, he had lived. Maybe something had cushioned his fall.

“KROG!?” Reece called down.

There came no response.

Reece looked up and saw the others, Elden, O’Connor, Conven, Indra, and Serna, all clinging to the side of the cliff, hands shaking, and all looking down with the same expression of shock and fear. Reece could tell from their bodies, from their desperate expressions, that they would not make it much farther either. He felt obliged to set an example as their leader.

“The bottom is close!” Reece called out, mustering confidence in his tone. “Krog hit it. He will be okay—and so will we! Hang on just a little bit more, and we will all be to safety. Follow me!”

Reece scurried down, hands slipping, knees shaking, but determined to make it and to set an example. When he thought only of himself, it felt too hard; but when he thought of others, he felt renewed energy.

Breathing hard, Reece looked below and focused. He just tried to make it from one foothold to the next; sometimes there was just enough room for his toes. His boots luckily gave him support, allowing him to cram his toes into tiny spots and lodge them there, giving him the strength he needed to support his body. He scrambled down the cliff with his final burst of energy, praying this was the end.

Finally, the swirling mist began to lift, and as Reece looked down, his heart soared to see land. Real land! Hardly twenty feet below was the canyon bottom.

And lying there, on a bed of what look liked soft pine needles, bright turquoise in color, lay Krog. He groaned and writhed on the floor. Reece sighed with relief. He was alive.

As he neared, Reece was shocked at the landscape down below: it was more exotic than anything he had ever seen, and it looked like he had arrived on another world. He caught only glimpses of it between the swirling mists, but from what he could see, the canyon bottom was littered with pine trees with bright orange trunks and bright turquoise needles, their branches purple and gold and laden with exotic, small fruits that sparkled. The soil looked like mud.

As Reece reached the last few feet, he jumped down off the wall, his hands barely able to hold on one more second. His feet landed in the soil and sank a few inches. He looked down and saw a strange sticky substance, not quite mud, but not quite soil. It felt so good to have his feet on real ground again.

All around him, his fellow Legion followed his example, jumping down off the last few feet of wall and landing beside him.

Reece hurried to Krog’s side. As he approached, a flash of anger burst through Reece: Krog had been a thorn in his side the whole time. Yet despite that, Reece was determined not to treat Krog the same way he had been treated by him. He had to rise above that, and regardless of what Krog deserved, it was not leader-like to sink to his level. Petty revenge might be a way for boys—but not for men. And it was time for him to leave boyhood behind, to become a man.

Reece knelt beside Krog and surveyed him, determined to help.

Krog groaned, squinting his eyes, writhing in pain.

“My knee,” Krog gasped.

Reece looked down and winced as he saw a large, purple branch impaled through Krog’s knee, through one side and out the other. Reece’s stomach churned at the site; it looked beyond painful.

“How does it look?” Krog asked.

Reece forced himself to look back at Krog with a steady expression of calm and cool confidence, not wanting Krog to panic.

“I’ve seen worse,” Reece responded. “You will be fine.”

Krog, though, didn’t seem to buy it. He was sweating, and looked up at him with panic-stricken eyes. His breathing was rapid and shallow.

“Listen to me,” Reece insisted, grabbing his cheeks. “Do you hear me? Your knee will be fine. Do you trust me?”

Slowly, Krog’s breathing slowed, and he nodded back.

All the others appeared beside Reece, and they stopped short in their tracks, looking down. Reece was sure that they were looking down at Krog’s knee with the same shock he had experienced.

“You’re lucky you’re alive,” Serna said to him. “I was sure you were dead.”

“The branches cushioned my fall,” Krog said. “I think I broke half the tree.”

Reece looked up and saw indeed that half the tree was missing its branches.

Krog tried to move, but winced and shook his head.

“I can’t bend my leg. I can’t walk.” Krog breathed sharply. “Leave me here,” he said. “I’m useless to you now.”

Reece shook his head.

“Do you remember our motto?” he reminded. “No man left behind. Those aren’t empty words. We live by them. And we aren’t leaving you anywhere.”

Reece thought quick, and turned to the others.

“Elden, O’Connor, hold him down,” he commanded, using the voice of authority.

They each knelt down and grabbed a shoulder, pinning Krog down.

“What are you doing?” Krog asked.

Reece didn’t hesitate; he had to get it over with. He reached down, grabbed the branch protruding through Krog’s knee, snapped off one end of it, and then, as Krog let out a horrific scream, yanked it straight through the other side, until it was clear of his leg. Blood gushed, and Reece reached down and stopped it up with his palm.

Krog flailed, moaning, while Indra rushed down beside him, tore a strip of cloth off the end of her shirt, and wrapped his wound.

“Son of a bitch!” Krog screamed, writhing in agony, digging his hands into Reece’s forearm.

“You are going to be all right,” Reece said. “Conven—your wine.”

Conven rushed forward, lowered his wineskin left over from Silesia, grabbed Krog’s cheeks and squirted some down his throat. Krog struggled at first, but Conven held him firmly, forcing him to drink. Eventually Krog’s eyes started to glaze over, his screaming quieted, and Reece knew the strong drink was kicking in.

“Get him to his feet,” Reece said, rising.

Elden and O’Connor dragged him to his feet, each draping an arm around one shoulder.

“I hate you,” Krog, half-delirious, moaned to Reece, glaring at him.

Reece shrugged. He never expected Krog to like him; he didn’t help him for that reason.

“Hate me all you want,” he said. “At least your leg will be saved.”

Reece turned and surveyed his surroundings, taking it all in. He was surprised and disoriented to actually be down here. Everything felt so foreign, so exotic, as if he were worlds away from the Ring. They stood in the midst of a brightly-colored forest, the swirling mists rushing through. Large mounds of mud rose up here and there, dotting the landscape, looking like large disfigured boulders rising up from the earth. Springs of steam rose in various pockets from the bottom of the floor, hissing as they shot up into the air, stopping and starting abruptly with no rhyme or reason.

Everywhere the air was filled with strange noises, caws and coos and snarls and shrieks; it sounded as if they had been dropped in the center of an animal kingdom. Reece peered into the midst, trying to get a glance, but the persistent mist made it impossible to see past twenty feet, making the noises even more ominous.

He turned to the others, who all looked back at him in wonder.

“Where to now?” Serna asked.

They all looked to Reece, and it was clear they considered him their leader now. Reece was beginning to feel more like a leader himself, too.

“We must find the Sword,” Reece answered, “and get out.”

“But it could be anywhere,” Elden said.

“We can’t see more than a few feet in front of us,” O’Connor added. “There are no trails, no markers. How are we to find it?”

Reece turned and surveyed the landscape, and realized they were all right. But that wasn’t going to stop him from trying.

“Well, one thing I know for sure,” he said. “We won’t find it by standing here. Let’s move.”

“But where?” Indra asked.

Reece picked a direction and began to walk, and he heard the others falling in behind, drawing their swords, all panicky.

He wished he could tell them he knew where they were going. But the truth was, he had absolutely no idea.