Ridge: Day Two: Ridge Series, #2

By Shawn P. B. Robinson

The dawn is near. But with enemies gathering at their doorstep, will the People of the Ridge survive to see a new day?

 

General Rezin Hamel's sacrifice has opened the door for the People of the Ridge to move forward, and now that they know who their enemies truly are, they must act. With an overwhelming army closing in on one side and the constant onslaught of raging Beasts on the other, the small Army on the Ridge must ensure every move they make is strategic and intentional.

 

But even among their own, and among those who have come to join them in their fight, there are those whose loyalty is in question. Can the People of the Ridge truly discern who they can trust without tearing their people apart? And in the end, can they stand against an enemy who has slowly and patiently been killing them off for generations?

 

Ridge: Day Two is the actioned-packed sequel in the Ridge dystopian thriller series. If you love intense strategies, insurmountable odds, and a people driven by honor and a desire to survive, then you'll love Shawn P. B. Robinson's glimpse into the Heart of the Ridge.

 

Grab your copy of Ridge: Day Two today to continue the journey toward the dawn for the People of the Ridge!

• Language: English
• Publisher: BrainSwell Publishing
• Release date: Nov 8, 2021
• ISBN: 9781989296455

Book preview

Prologue

Markel trudged along behind eight soldiers—five men, three women. Each one had proven themselves to be competent Soldiers of the Ridge. At the head of the group was Markel’s Captain.

Captain Cuttel was young yet had excelled at everything he had ever set his heart upon. The eyes of the entire army were on him, and Markel had heard on more than one occasion that most people expected he would be a General by the time he was twenty-four. Other than the former Honored Patir himself, no one had been named General before twenty-five.

Markel had been forced to wear a simple cloak, separating him from the other soldiers. It was a statement of shame. All would understand that he was not a soldier. None of the others trusted him. They saw him as nothing more than Hamel’s spy. Even Captain Cuttel looked at him with distrust and disdain in every interaction.

Markel’s hopes of being an officer one day did not appear likely to be fulfilled.

For two hours, they had patrolled the lower sections. Captain Cuttel was looking for someone, and, judging from the comments from the other soldiers, it would not be pleasant for whomever they found.

A small man rushed up to the Captain, bowed, and started off down a side street. Captain Cuttel followed, and the other soldiers trailed behind.

Markel started after the other soldiers but found himself pulled to a stop and nearly dragged off his feet. Hessel, one of the grunts who followed the Captain without question, threw Markel back and pinned him to a wall. The sharp feel of steel pressed against his neck.

Listen closely, child. I’m only going to say this once. The man leaned in close, and, as he spoke, spit flew from his mouth.

Markel resisted the urge to wipe his face. He knew, even at fourteen, he was a far more skilled fighter than the man before him, but neither the extra years of experience nor Hessel’s muscle was something Markel was prepared to challenge. To do so would also be to disobey Hamel’s orders. He would submit to Captain Cuttel and even to the Captain’s soldiers.

A crowd gathered. In the lower sections of the city, there was little respect for Soldiers of the Ridge, but they liked a good fight. Perhaps they hoped to see the large man throw Markel around.

Don’t you dare step out of line, boy, Hessel continued. The man leaned in closer, and Markel feared if he resisted, the blade would cut into him. We’re going to meet someone in just a few minutes, and I don’t want you to be causing us any difficulty. The Captain has some very specific plans in place, and if you hinder them in any way, you will first answer to me, then the Captain, then the Honored Matir herself. You will not enjoy any of those… the man paused for a moment and smiled as he considered the right word, …conversations. I suggest you follow your orders. You will stay back and stay quiet. Do you understand?

Markel whispered Yes, doing his best not to move his head, jaw, or neck. He had seen how often and carefully Hessel sharpened his blade. It would not take much movement to draw blood.

Excellent! Hessel said loudly and with a smile as he backed away and returned his knife to its place. Let’s go meet the dishonored General! Hessel waved for Markel to follow and rushed down the side street that the Captain had turned down a moment before.

Markel ran after him, his face turning red. He felt shamed. Hessel had dishonored him in front of a crowd of people. He could hear their laughter and taunts as he tried to catch up to the larger soldier.

When they reached the Captain, the squad approached a large, open-air market. Markel held his head low, not only because of the shame he felt but also because he knew he was a part of something evil. The Captain was about to confront Hamel himself. Since he was doing so in the lower sections, there would be no honor in the interaction. The Captain was likely seeking to kill Hamel. To add to the threat, Hessel had mentioned the Honored Matir. If Honored Matir Karotel was involved, Hamel was in serious danger. Hamel’s daughter was considered the most intelligent person ever to lead the Council. There may be no way out of her trap.

They rounded the corner, and Markel, head still lowered in shame, scanned the market. The Captain turned his head to the left and the right, unable to identify his target until the man who had bowed to him a few moments before pointed to a large man hidden under a dirty, torn, and patched cloak. Captain Cuttel paid the informant before the man turned and rushed away.

Nearly ten paces away, the large man in the cloak pulled back his hood. It was General Hamel. He had a large grin on his face and seemed quite pleased to see the young Captain. Aside from the bruises on each side of his head, he looked well.

So, Captain, Hamel hollered. I see you have been looking for me. Have you come to apologize?

Hamel! the Captain replied, his voice echoing across the market.

Markel bristled at the name without any title of respect. He had struggled himself to call the former Honored Patir by his given name, but it was only proper. He just did not like it. When Hamel had been disgraced only a few days before, even his honored family name, Rezin, had been stripped away. The General was in a position where no one but the worst of criminals would consider associating with him.

Yup. That’s me, Cuttel! How have you been, young man? Hamel replied, leaving out Captain Cuttel’s rank.

The men and women standing with the Captain shifted on their feet, and Markel heard a couple of them growl. Most clenched their fists. Markel was unsure why Hamel would try to provoke the Captain. He was in a precarious position.

I did not come to apologize, Captain Cuttel replied, ignoring the insult to his status. I only came to see if you were settling in well, and if so, to see if I could change that.

The Captain turned and nodded to a large man standing off to the side. The man was nearly as tall as Hamel, but far more muscular. Two others came after him, neither of whom appeared to be as much of a threat as the large man. However, Markel knew he would not want to face either of the smaller men on his own, let alone the leader.

Markel watched in horror as the Captain paid the large man. They were hired for one purpose. The Captain did not expect Hamel to walk out of the market.

Markel felt a burning rage build inside but remembered Hamel’s training. It was always foolish to act in anger. He took a moment and cleared his mind. While he knew his face still showed rage and disgust, his heart began to calm. He planted his feet shoulder width apart, bent his knees, and clenched his fists. He held his right hand next to the handle of his blade so he could reach it in a moment.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Hessel watching him. He planned out his attack as General Hamel had taught him. The larger soldier would need to be dealt with first. His blade to the man’s throat would be quick and allow Markel to move on to the next soldier. He was not sure how long he would survive, but perhaps by sacrificing himself, he could give the General a chance. The soldier to the left of Hessel would go down next. He would not have a chance to react, but at that point, the other six would be aware of what was happening and would turn on him.

In the commotion, General Hamel might have a chance to either attack the three men before him or run. The General would not likely ever run, but Markel could offer no more.

Once his quickly prepared plan was laid out in his mind, he focused his attention on Hamel. Hamel’s orders were clear, and they did not allow for Markel to attack Captain Cuttel or his men. But if Hamel was under threat, perhaps the orders would change. A nod would be all Markel would need. He met the eyes of his former mentor, and his heart sunk as Hamel gave a slight shake of his head. Markel must hold back.

I wish you the best, Hamel, son of Rezin Mathel, Captain Cuttel called out. The mention of his Matir’s name with the lost honored name sent a clear message of how far Hamel had fallen in the eyes of the people. I hope you enjoy your time with my friends.

The Captain turned as the soldiers with him laughed. Hessel grabbed Markel by the shoulder and pushed him after the Captain. The large soldier growled loud enough for anyone in the crowd of onlookers to hear, Time to go, Markel. The General is too busy today to play with one of his favorites.

Markel could barely contain himself. He would not disobey the General’s orders, but he knew his friend and mentor could be dead in a matter of minutes. Everything in him wanted to run back to the market, but with Hessel behind him, he would not get very far. Markel struggled to comprehend how many people wanted Hamel dead. He had been so well loved until just a few days before.

Captain Cuttel turned sharply down a tight alleyway, and the others followed. Markel slowed just before the alley, but Hessel’s large hands shoved him forward. They walked two by two between the buildings, and Markel felt Hessel’s grip on his shoulder as they walked. They were nearly to the other side when the Captain stepped up against the wall and stopped. The soldiers, without a word, continued on down the alley.

Markel, as he came upon Captain Cuttel, did not dare make eye contact. He was not sure he could control himself. He knew how he longed to drive his knife into the Captain’s heart. Markel began to understand why the General despised the young officer.

Markel was about to pass by the Captain when he felt Hessel let go of him and Captain Cuttel grab the back of his shirt. Before he knew what had happened, he had been pulled through a small doorway and stood at the base of a stairway leading up.

Follow me, Markel. Not a word, Captain Cuttel ordered. The Captain’s voice was gentle and betrayed exhaustion. He turned and made his way up the stairs.

Markel followed, careful to hold his tongue.

The building was old and in need of repair, but the steps were made of stone and remained solid. Men and women lined the steps. Each one examined the Captain and Markel closely as if no one could continue without passing their scrutiny.

As they reached the second floor of the building, Markel glanced through a doorway, open to a long hallway. A woman sat on the floor against a wall, with one leg stretched out and the other bent up close. In the seconds he had to examine her, he could see she was not relaxing. She was ready to spring into action. Just before he turned away, she adjusted her position, and the rags she wore shifted to reveal a deep blue uniform and a well-cared-for sidearm.

Markel, as he followed his Captain up the stairs, examined the next man he saw. While the man also wore rags and leaned against the wall, there was something about his bearing. His legs were bent slightly at the knees, and he was built like an ox.

Markel felt more rage build inside. The stairway and hallways were filled with soldiers, pretending to be residents of the Lower Sections of the city. It was not just the Captain who was seeking Hamel’s death; the entire event was a military operation.

He knew he could not stop what was happening, but if Hamel died, he would drive his own knife into Captain Cuttel’s heart. The man was no longer worthy of the title, Captain. Markel did not care if he himself was dishonored by killing his superior officer. No cost would be too great to avenge his mentor’s death.

As they reached the top of the third flight of stairs, Markel briefly considered driving his knife into Cuttel’s back at that very moment but held back. He was not a murderer. He had to control himself. Cuttel would pay, but Markel resolved to act in honor. He would stand against the man, face to face.

Cuttel turned to Markel and placed his hand on the younger man’s shoulder. When he spoke, Markel was again surprised by the gentleness and tiredness in his voice. Markel, I know you must be screaming inside. Calm yourself. It’ll all be explained soon.

Cuttel turned down the hallway and opened the first door he reached. Three men crouched outside the door, and Markel could see their placement was not random or casual.

Markel stepped into the dark room, and his eyes took a moment to adjust. All the windows were completely covered except for one. The curtains on that window were open only enough to let a small sliver of light come in. As his eyes adjusted, he began to make out a man by that window with a large sniper rifle mounted on a stand, pointed down into the streets below.

Markel’s blade was out. It was one thing to force the General to face three men in the streets. It was quite another to gun him down from a dark room, three floors up in a building.

He lunged forward, but Cuttel was ready. Markel felt a pain in his wrist, and his knife hit the ground. Cuttel pushed him back a few steps, picked up Markel’s knife, and handed it back. The message was clear. Cuttel was willing to trust Markel; Markel needed to trust Cuttel.

Ten Minutes Earlier…

Captain Cuttel pushed down the exhaustion that threatened to overwhelm him. The last number of months had been difficult, but they were nothing compared to how hard the last few days had been.

He turned away from Hamel and listened as his soldiers laughed. They had all followed their orders well at each step of the way. Each one had been specially selected for their ability to obey orders and keep their tongue.

Markel, however, had not been brought in on the plan. It had been necessary that his reactions be genuine beyond question. Markel was closer to the General than nearly anyone, aside from Hamel’s daughters and, despite what everyone else thought, Cuttel himself. If the young man could not portray genuine rage and betrayal, everything could be lost. It was suspected there were spies from Eddel and spies from Olmos on every corner in the Lower Sections. If that were true, every move, every facial expression, every word would be scrutinized.

As he passed the young man, he could see Markel struggling to obey. Hessel had kept a close eye on him. It had been difficult for Hessel. The man was so gentle and kind-hearted. It was daily agony for him to push Markel around.

Cuttel led his soldiers out of the courtyard and down a small alleyway, doing his best to control his fear. The rest of the soldiers would continue back to the barracks to be reassigned for their next mission. Markel, however, needed to be brought into Cuttel’s confidence.

Down a short alleyway, he stepped to the side and let the men and women pass but pulled Markel through a small doorway. Follow me, Markel. Not a word. He tried to put some kindness into the voice in the hopes of calming the young man before they reached the third floor, but he was so tired. It had been a difficult number of days.

On the way up, they passed soldier after soldier. Each one scrutinized him carefully. Too much was at stake to allow a rogue soldier to enter the area. Cuttel had also given them orders to keep Markel from stabbing him in the back. Until Markel understood, the boy was a threat.

They reached the top of the stairway and stepped into a hallway. On the left was an old door leading into one of the rooms of the abandoned building. It was perfect as it overlooked the market square where Cuttel was to confront the General. He closed his eyes to help himself adjust to the darkness. He knew what to expect in the room and had walked through it enough times to know where to step, but he needed his sight to protect himself from Markel. The boy would not like what he saw on the other side of the door.

Cuttel walked through the door and stepped to the side to prepare himself. As Markel’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, his mouth dropped open, and he drew his knife. Cuttel grabbed the young man’s wrist, twisted it enough to loosen the grip on the handle, and pushed him back against the wall.

He picked up Markel’s knife and handed it back before beginning his explanation in a quiet, gentle voice. Markel, calm down. We are not here to harm the General. We are following his orders—his and the Honored Matir’s. I was ordered not to tell you what was going on until this moment. The sniper is not here to harm General Hamel. He’s here in case the General is unable to defeat the three men we hired to kill him.

In the dim light, Cuttel could make out the confusion on Markel’s face. He had gone over what he would say a dozen times, but nothing he had come up with felt quite right.

At that moment, the man at the window stepped back and, in a low voice, announced, The General made it. The three men are dead.

Cuttel felt his shoulders relax, and he nearly collapsed to the floor. He turned back to Markel with a weak grin. That is the end of our part in the plan for a little while. While the soldier at the window packed up his rifle, he said, I’m sure you have a lot of questions. Let me start at the beginning.

THE DAY BEGINS

Weeks later…

General Undin Neggel spurred her horse down the road. It was not proper to gallop through the city as there was too great a threat of injury to a child or anyone out for a stroll, but she pushed her horse to a canter. As she neared a crowd, she slowed down enough to get by them without risk but sped up her gait as soon as the people were behind her.

She had been in talks with Ambassador Nimmos at the Olmosite embassy about a mutual threat, Brine, far to the north. It had been over a year since their last skirmish with the Brenchons, but Brine was sending raiding parties again. Part way through the meeting, a young Lieutenant had arrived and passed on a simple note. It had read, The Honored Matir requests your presence for a discussion regarding the training of soldiers in the Valley Floor.

It was a most boring and insignificant request, and it was false. It was an agreed upon code. The moment had arrived. There were so many questions. She hoped the Honored Matir had answers.

Neggel rode into the Courtyard. In the center was a beautiful fountain, fed by the underground river providing water to the entire city. It was a work of art, covering fifteen paces across with multiple levels of carved granite statues. Water poured over and through it all.

It felt good on such a hot day to feel the wind blow the cool mist over her as she dismounted outside a large stable, handed the reins to a young girl, and made her way to the Council Chambers. She herself had started out in that same stable. She was grateful to General Hamel who had taken her under his wing and taught her the finer parts of leadership and strategy.

As she raced up the steps of the Council Chambers, her mind remained on Hamel. He always managed to be in the thick of things and had been a rock in her life. She hoped he had returned safe and sound.

Neggel rushed down the hall past a dozen saluting soldiers and officers. She did not have it in her that day to return a proper salute. Everyone had been on edge for weeks. So much was at stake. They did not have much time left. Any day now, they feared the Beasts would overwhelm the wall, and nothing they did alleviated the problem. She hoped Hamel had returned with some direction or, at the very least, options.

When she arrived at the door to the Honored Matir’s office, she expected to have to explain why she was there, but the soldiers merely saluted and opened the door. She entered the office, and the door closed behind her.

The office itself was small—smaller than any General’s office. Not much took place in that room, aside from study and small meetings. A General’s office included room for many soldiers and officers to discuss strategy and lay out plans. The Honored Matir’s office did not require such space.

The Honored Matir Rezin Karotel sat behind her desk. She was a tiny woman. Not only was she shorter than most, not much taller than a twelve-year-old child, but she was so thin people often shared concern that she might be ill. Neggel knew better. The Honored Matir’s strength was not in her body. It was in her mind.

No one ever questioned the Matir’s intelligence. The moment anyone walked into a room with her, they could see it. It was clear just by looking in her eyes. The General had often felt in conversations with the Matir that the woman had finished the conversation and was on to the next three before they were halfway through their introductions.

The Honored Matir’s eyes that day, however, were bloodshot. She motioned for the General to sit opposite the desk.

As Neggel took her seat, she examined the Matir. Her eyes were not red from exhaustion, but from tears.

Neggel shifted in her seat and felt her stomach tighten. For a woman of the Honored Matir’s stature to weep openly in the presence of another would mean family was involved. There was no shame in the joys or grief of family.

Neither woman spoke at first. General Neggel remained silent while Honored Matir Karotel took a few deep breaths to calm herself. When Karotel finally spoke, she removed formality from the conversation by addressing the General as a friend.

Neggel, the Honored Matir began.

Yes, Karotel, Neggel replied. She had never been invited to speak so informally with the Honored Matir, and it scared her. I assume you have heard from your Patir?

Yes. Karotel’s voice cracked as she spoke. But not directly.

Neggel’s heart began to race. She, along with the other General, saw one another as close friends. To lose Hamel, a man who had guided and supported each of them over the years, was a thought too heavy to bear.

Is the General alive? Neggel asked, forcing her voice to regain the formality she needed for the moment.

As of the last report, he was seriously injured. It was a knife wound sustained in the final days of his mission. He is at the southern fortress. They do not have the facilities to properly care for his wound, nor do they feel they can move him. We have sent a doctor to the fortress, but until he reaches the fortress and reports back, we won’t know much more.

Is that why you are grieving, Karotel? Neggel asked.

That is part of it, Karotel began. We don’t have much time. I need to give you your orders, but I also need your perspective. My Patir told Captain Cuttel that there were two people in Mellel’s cave in the Oasis. One was a young girl he had adopted.

Neggel’s eyebrows shot up. That is unexpected on a mission such as this.

Yes, Karotel replied, but somehow I’m not surprised. She offered a faint smile. He has a way of finding people who need help.

If the situation is urgent, then what is heavy on your mind? While the adoption of a child was an honorable moment in the life of a parent, it was clear there was something else.

My Patir said something to the Captain, and I want you to tell me what conclusion you draw. I would not even give it a second thought, but it is dominating my mind and emotions. I cannot think of anyone else to turn to. I could not find Mariel to ask her, so I’m asking you. You have been close to My Patir for years. He told Cuttel that in Mellel’s cave was a ‘long lost Son of the Ridge’. What do you make of that?

Neggel’s eyes dropped to the floor, and she shook her head. It was proper to call an honorable man a Son of the Ridge, but it was an unusual way to say it, and the wording was awkward. It would make more sense to say his name. To use such a term in such a moment suggested the General saw some mystery attached to the name along with a great deal of emotion. If the man was loved but had been lost for a time, and Hamel did not want to reveal his identity… Lemmel! she said in a whisper, and her eyes shot back up to Karotel.

The Honored Matir nodded her head, and the tears flowed freely. Karotel had loved her older brother dearly, and his betrayal had been one of the greatest losses in her life. If he was alive, perhaps he had not betrayed the People of the Ridge.

It would be one thing for the General to be on the verge of death. There was always hope for recovery. With Lemmel, however, the thought that he was alive after so much grief was hard to fathom.

That is also what I thought, Karotel confessed. Somehow your response eases my mind, and I feel able to let the matter go for the time being—almost as if I can rest in the hope that it could be him. We must move forward. We do not know how much time we have. I suspect we might have until the end of the week, but it could be less.

Was the General able to give any orders? Neggel asked.

He said it was time for phase two.

Neggel closed her eyes. His mission had been to find out why the Beast threat was escalating. Phase two, however, meant the Olmosites were involved, and they were on their way. They would soon experience war at the Capital.

I will see to it immediately, Neggel replied. Without another word, she rose to her feet and turned to the door.

THE DAY IS FOCUSED

Neggel moved down the steps of the Council at a near run. They had little time. The Honored Matir and General Hamel had prepared them well, but she would not be slack in her command. Too much was at stake. It would be better to have time to waste before the attack than to find themselves delayed and then unprepared.

The young girl had her horse ready to go when she arrived. The child was an intelligent one. She could read the situation. She knew Neggel’s appointment in the Council Chambers would be short and had left the horse saddled.

Neggel climbed into the saddle and saluted the young girl. The child beamed at Neggel and saluted back. Neggel’s Patir had often said, There is always time for kindness. She remembered Hamel had often quoted the same proverb.

As she moved out of the courtyard, she asked herself a question that often flowed through her mind. What would Hamel do in such a situation? She knew the answer for her overall mission—he had laid out the plan quite well—but something pulled at the back of her mind.

She had once told him that she asked herself that question often, and he had grown quite angry. His words rang in her head, You are a General because you were thought to be capable of being a General. We do not need another Hamel; we needed a Neggel. That’s why you were promoted. Don’t be me. Be you! That’s an order, General!

She smiled at the thought and brought her horse to a stop. She had only ever partially obeyed that order. She knew exactly what he would do in this moment and decided to follow his example. She turned back to the stable, and within seconds, the young girl stood before her.

Did I miss something in the care of your horse, General? the girl asked.

No, Neggel began. How old are you?

Twelve, General, the girl replied.

Excellent. Go get the Stable Master.

The girl turned and ran back into the stable. After a moment, the Stable Master rushed out. He had a big grin on his face, and she could tell that he was honored by the invitation to speak to the General.

Neggel had always liked the man. He was confident. Many would think they were about to be scolded, but the Stable Master knew he did his job well and took pride in it. He assumed there would be a compliment.

Honored Stable Master, Neggel began. There was no such title as Honored stable master, but she would give him the respect he was due. I would like a new apprentice. This young child has shown an aptitude and intelligence far beyond her years.

The Stable Master bowed his head and smiled again. To give up such a quality young girl to work with a woman of your honor takes the pain of my loss and makes it a joy.

Thank you, my friend, Neggel replied. I am in a great rush, however, so the formalities cannot all be followed.

I understand, the man replied. Then, I give my blessing if the child wishes to change careers.

I do! the girl screamed. She ran to the Stable Master and embraced him before stepping back, straightening her back, and lowering her head.

The Stable Master chuckled to himself and gave her his kiss of blessing on her head. He then commanded, Wait here, and ran back into the stable. A moment later, he came out leading an already saddled, large light brown mare. This is for you as my continued blessing on your future.

The girl climbed into the saddle and, without a single glance back, brought her horse up beside Neggel’s. She was tall for her age and moved awkwardly, but sat straight and proud in the saddle.

Neggel turned her horse away from the stable and moved at a canter out of the courtyard. She smiled both at the thought of her opportunity to invest in this child and at the audacity of the Stable Master. He did not have the authority to give horses away at will, but it was a kind gesture. She assumed the horse did not belong to anyone in particular but was merely saddled and ready to go for the next member of the Council or Officer in need.

They moved east through the streets toward the outer sections of the city where many of the barracks were built. Since there had never been a completed wall surrounding the city, the outer barracks had long been considered an important and necessary part of the city’s defense.

There were also many other barracks in the center of the city, near the Council Chambers, but the bulk of the barracks stood to the west, near the Valley Wall.

The Beasts had been attacking from the west more and more often in the past number of months. There were very few days without an attack, and the attacks had grown far more vicious and deadly. They had even had a few Beasts breach the wall as of late. Only the strongest Beasts could get past the Ridge defenses. Those that did breach the defenses rarely fell without the loss of many soldiers. Neggel had been there on one such occasion. Two Beasts had reached the top of the wall, and eighty-four soldiers had fallen. She still struggled to believe the number, but she had confirmed the count twice.

She shook her head and brought her thoughts back to the moment. Her office was near the primary barracks on the eastern edge of the city, far from the Beast threat. She and the child would be there in a little over ten minutes.

Neggel realized she didn’t even know the child’s name. What is your name? Neggel asked.

My name is Mirnel, General.

Do you have an honored name, Mirnel?

No, General, the girl replied.

Neggel nodded her head, and the two continued on. A child without family—left to face the world alone. Neggel would see that the child would, in time, receive an honored name as part of her apprenticeship.

She arrived at her office and dismounted. She and Mirnel handed the reins of their horses to a young stable boy, and the two rushed to the door. The two soldiers outside the door saluted the General but moved to stop Mirnel from entering the building.

Stand down, soldiers, Neggel commanded. This is Mirnel. She is my new apprentice. She will have permission to enter and leave my office at will.

Both men stepped back and resumed their positions. Not even the Honored Matir could enter a General’s office without permission.

Before entering the building, Neggel commanded the one soldier to send word to Colonels Birrel and Trackel. Both Colonels were distinguished officers, and each should have been Generals by that point in their career, if there had been a need for more than three in the Armies of the Ridge.

Neggel moved to a comfortable chair in the corner of her large office, sat down, and motioned Mirnel to the chair opposite her. When the girl had seated herself, the General explained, Listen closely, Mirnel. Much of what a General does is set up strategies and see that they are implemented. You will need to pay close attention to everything I say and do, but you may not question anything I do at all until we are alone, do you understand?

Yes, General.

Excellent. In a little while, two Colonels will arrive, and your role will be to stand back and watch. The strategy we are implementing has already been set up—we are in an urgent situation at the moment. If you cannot control your tongue, I will have to find another apprentice.

Yes, General, Mirnel replied.

The girl’s face fell at the threat, but she held her shoulders straight. Neggel did not wish to scare the girl, but the first lesson an officer’s apprentice had to learn was to hold her tongue at appropriate times. She remembered Hamel giving her a similar speech on their first day together.

Excellent, Mirnel. For now, we wait. I will be unable to speak for the next few minutes. I must be alone with my thoughts. You are welcome to explore the office, but please be quiet, do not open any of the drawers to my desk, and you are not privy to anything on that table over there.

Neggel pointed to a large table off to the side. The table was covered with papers. Nothing on the table was important, but Neggel needed to set out boundaries, and she needed to know that Mirnel could follow orders.

Neggel closed her eyes and relaxed her shoulders and back. She called that particular chair her thinking chair. It was comfortable and could be turned to face the wall, which was covered with two large maps: one of the Ridge Capital and another of the Ridge Territories. She often found solutions to problems came as she stared at the maps. The current issue, however, would not be dealt with on the maps, but in reviewing the plans she and a select few others had memorized.

After ten to fifteen minutes, a loud knock on the door pulled her back to the moment. She called out, Come! and when the door opened, in walked Birrel and Trackel, along with a young boy of about fourteen who followed behind Trackel. Trackel had had his apprentice for well over a year. Birrel’s apprentice, however, had just recently moved into officer training.

The two men took their positions by the table, and Neggel joined them. She quickly pointed to Mirnel and announced the girl was her new apprentice but did not mention her name. Mirnel remained silent.

Both men had grim looks on their faces. Since they had both been called to General Neggel’s office at the same time, it would not be hard to guess the reason for the meeting.

Trackel was the first to speak. Do I need to ask my apprentice to leave, General? The young boy stood beside Mirnel near the back wall.

Neither men’s apprentices had been allowed in the room for any of the planning for Phase One, Two, or Three. Trackel was asking if the secrecy of Phase One and Two had come to an end and if it was time to act.

No, Colonel. Phase One is complete.

Are we on to Phase Two, or has it been deemed unnecessary? Birrel asked.

We are on to Phase Two, Neggel confirmed.

Then General Hamel has returned? Birrel asked.

At the name of Hamel, Mirnel made a noise of disgust and spit on the floor. Neggel gave her a sharp look and added her look of disgust to the floor where Mirnel had spit. Mirnel, I will forgive this outburst since this is your very first meeting with me. You are not to respond with disgust to a General of the Armies of the Ridge, regardless of what you think you know about him. Also, clean up your saliva. Do not ever defile my office in such a disgusting manner!

She knew some of her response was a little over-the-top, considering the circumstance, and she could see Birrel and Trackel fighting down smiles, but the boundaries would need to be set early in the relationship. She expected great things in Mirnel’s future, but the child would only reach her potential if she could learn to control her reactions.

Birrel, Neggel said.

Yes, General.

To answer your question, yes, he has returned. I can’t tell you more than that, because I don’t know, other than to say that he is severely injured. But we have Phase Two to worry about. Tell me, what are your orders?

Birrel nodded his head and explained, My orders are to secure the Olmosite Embassy. We will first ensure that no civilians are inside the Embassy, then we will move in and arrest the Ambassador and every member of his team. Once the Embassy is secured, and I have the Ambassador under guard, I will report directly to you.

Excellent. She shifted her gaze to the other Colonel. Trackel, your orders?

My orders are to finish Karotel’s houses… Trackel paused for a moment. I’m sorry, General. I meant no disrespect. People have taken to calling the entire build, ‘Karotel’s houses’. The name has fit well with the people, and I felt it helped maintain the secrecy.

Neggel did not care for such discussions. She had heard the term before and did not need an explanation. Carry on, Colonel.

The houses are complete, and all the supplies to finish the build are contained within the houses themselves, Trackel began. We will draw in all available soldiers to finish the work. I will set two hundred to tearing down eight of the houses and refashioning them as gates. The rest of the soldiers will be assigned to fill in the spaces between the houses and set up defenses all along the new wall. I have already contracted a dozen metal workers to develop portions of the gates, but none of it is assembled, and it is unlikely they have figured out what use we have for it. Now that secrecy has come to an end, we can act openly to finish off what they have built and secure the gates. I expect the work will take a little over three days, if all goes well.

Excellent. She began to think she was overusing the word, Excellent, but it fit so well. Birrel, see to your orders immediately. Once you have ensured that there are no Ridge civilians within the Olmosite Embassy, send word to Trackel. Colonel Trackel, once you have confirmation that there are no Ridge civilians within the Embassy, you may begin your work on the wall. If we move too soon on the wall and the Ambassador becomes suspicious, we may end up with a hostage situation on our hands. Let’s avoid that if we can.

The men nodded, turned, and walked out with Trackel’s apprentice close behind.

Once they were gone, Neggel smiled at Mirnel. The child had done well for her first meeting. Neggel had a few minutes to spare and would take the opportunity to talk through the interaction with her apprentice. The child’s training had begun in the midst of one of the most dangerous times in the recent history of the People of the Ridge. She would need to learn fast.

THE DAY BEGETS A WALL

Two Days Later…

Neggel stood on the roof of an empty house. It was part of the old city but right on the edge near the wilderness. At the base of the house began a large open area. A short distance into that open area, a road led around the entire east side of the city.

The buildings, commonly referred to as Karotel’s houses, had been built on the east side of the road, right on the edge of the wilderness. The houses were built right next to each other. The sides of the houses facing out toward the wilderness were solid and without any windows, and the houses formed a line all around the city.

Neggel assumed Olmos had been suspecting a wall was in process for a while, but they would not come out and challenge the official statement, which was, We are building houses along the outside of the city. Anyone who looked at the houses from the road into the city or wandering through the area would think they were exactly what they claimed to be. They had rooms inside, and a few even had furniture placed appropriately in some of the rooms.

The rooms also contained construction materials—wood, stone blocks, and mortar. It was with those supplies that her soldiers were finishing the wall. The small areas between each of the houses were being filled in with stone blocks. Eight of the houses along the perimeter had been knocked down, and gates were nearly built in their place. Everything had been prepared, and Colonel Trackel had performed his duties well.

How long do you expect we will need, Colonel? Neggel asked.

If all goes well, General, Trackel replied, we should be finished by late morning on the day after tomorrow.

Excellent. She had asked four times already, but she wanted confirmation of the timeline. What of the gates?

They are going up according to plan. We built the eight houses in such a way that they could come down easily, and the materials inside, along with the portcullises from the city, would take very little time to assemble. Speaking of which… Trackel pointed off to his right.

Three carts, pulled by oxen, moved slowly into sight. They traveled down the main road out of the city. Each cart carried a large portcullis tied securely onto the back.

Once the caravan passed the houses which were part of the old city, they came out into the open area. A short distance into the area, they reached a crossroads at the road which circled much of the city.

The caravan split up at the crossroads, each cart heading to the gate for which its supplies and portcullis were destined. The largest of the steel metal gratings also had spikes and hooks all along the front and back. The cart that carried the large portcullis continued along the center road toward the main gate.

Once the large portcullis was beyond the crossroads, Neggel heard some yells. Her eyes had not left the cart from the moment it entered the outer sections of the city, and she watched as men ran around the sides of the cart and then turned away, moving as fast as they could away from the danger.

One of the wheels on the cart shifted and, with a crack loud enough to be heard from Neggel’s position, split. With the weight of the steel and the shift and twist of the cart, the ropes holding the grate snapped. The whole event appeared to take an hour, but only seconds had passed. The portcullis lay partially on the ground with splinters of the cart itself strewn around.

Soldiers from the wall ran out to check on the progress, and Neggel was pleased to see they confirmed the safety of each of the men and women leading the cart. They did not need an injury at that point.

Will this set us back? Mirnel asked.

Neggel was always conscious of her young apprentice standing by. The girl had learned quickly the appropriate time to ask questions and the appropriate time to hold her tongue. She could read the situation well and saw that Neggel was not concerned, nor was she involved in solving that problem. It was the ideal time for questions.

While Trackel rushed off to see what part he could play in addressing their current issue, Neggel pulled Mirnel up beside her. It was never appropriate to miss an opportunity to train the young.

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