Chapter 23

Chapter 23

23 August 149 Third Age

Two days passed and the city was a solemn silhouette, its uncontrollable infernos subdued by a fortuitous shift in the weather. The winds retreated into a serene whisper, supplanted by a cascade of rain inundating the island with its relentless deluge. The rain descended in formidable sheets, so profound that Carrack found it nearly unbearable to maintain his watch atop the fortress walls, his gaze straining to discern any figures advancing towards them through the aquatic curtain.

Sleep remained elusive, his racing mind and surging anxiety turning rest into a forgotten luxury. On the sporadic instances when sleep did envelop him, it was a turbulent respite, the unseen specter still lurking within the peripheries of his vision, its shadow a constant whisper in his mind. Death claimed four more of his comrades, succumbing to their injuries, while another met his fate as a victim of an unfortunate misstep over the fortress wall in the wrathful storm.

Carrack’s thoughts often meandered to the populace within the city, pondering their survival amidst the lack of food. The silence emanating from the city’s depths was eerie, no murmurs of unrest permeating the enveloping rain. This tranquility, typically a welcome respite, now seeded tendrils of unease within him. The stillness conveyed a looming confrontation, silent tensions breeding armed and angered shadows. Each passing moment without confrontation intensified his anticipatory anxiety, the calm before the storm becoming a silent tormentor. The anticipated, yet absent, tide of angered souls seemed to intertwine with the relentless rain, creating a symphony of unspoken tensions and silent fears.

Carrack, Crow, and Weiss convened in council to manage the affairs of the fort. Crow occupied the seat Foeham had frequently claimed, a transition that induced a fleeting pang of sorrow in Carrack. The guilt for Foeham’s state replayed in his mind like a persistent echo.

“With the halt in distributing our reserves to the island, our food situation seems more … fortuitous,” Weiss offered with a trace of restrained hope. “We have supplies for three, maybe four months, accounting for natural spoilage—”

“But when tens of thousands of hungry, desperate … incensed individuals come, we’ll be in real trouble. The amount of food won’t matter,” Crow interjected sharply.

“If they come,” Weiss countered, earning a huff from Crow.

“You truly believe they’ll wither away without a fight?” Crow scoffed.

“If they haven’t already—”

“It’s only been two days! Two days!” Crow emphasized before addressing Carrack. “We’re on borrowed time, sir. It’s not months … They will come, and they will overpower us if we confront them.”

“We’ll unleash the cannon; if they want food, we can serve them some grapeshot,” Weiss proposed defiantly.

“Between a soldier and a scholar, sir, I sincerely hope you weigh the former’s perspective when assessing our capabilities,” Crow stated, addressing Carrack directly while disregarding Weiss, who displayed visible irritation.

“It’s curious,” Carrack said, allowing a pause to diffuse the escalating tension. “There seems to be something about that seat, Sergeant Crow. Anyone who occupies it seems naturally prone to conflict with Weiss.” Carrack reclined in his chair, eyes scanning the ceiling as if seeking hidden answers, but finding none. “While we may have a reprieve now with our unexpected surplus, our chances are slim against the mobs if they descend upon us. Weiss, you suggest we turn the cannon on them. I concur—if it comes to combat. They might hesitate momentarily, witnessing their comrades transformed into pink mist, but their motivations will be more potent than fear. They’ll be propelled by anger and desperation. At the docks, I observed a similar defiance—they scarcely hesitated when we fired warning shots, and readily rushed past the grenade I deployed amongst them. If they decide to approach, they won’t leave until every soul within this fort perishes.”

“So, what’s our move? Do we just wait for our inevitable demise?” Weiss probed.

“We could, eh … Never mind.” Crow hesitated.

“Speak up,” Carrack urged. “There are no bad ideas when the situation is this fucked.”

“I was thinking we send out a small team—three to five people at most—to scout out the city. Just to observe,” Crow said.

“That’s risky,” said Carrack.

“A hell of a risk,” Weiss chimed in.

“Indeed,” Crow concurred, “but being in the dark about the city’s condition isn’t doing us any favors.”

“And what good will knowing do, especially when we’re powerless to change anything?” Weiss contested. “It’s not like we could thwart an impending attack even if we see it coming. We’d still be here, just waiting.”

“Knowing when an attack might come is invaluable, especially for the men standing guard. If you’re not the one who has to be constantly on watch, I could see why you wouldn’t value such information,” Crow retorted.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“I see the merit in understanding the situation below, but at this moment, it’s just not going to happen,” said Carrack.

“Well,” Crow rubbed his face, “like it or not, we have some of our men already out there.”

“The lighthouse,” Carrack affirmed.

“Exactly, sir. We have, what, three men stationed there to man it and the radio?” said Crow.

“Four,” Weiss corrected.

“They have provisions, enough for a short while, but not indefinitely. However, starvation is the least of my concerns for them,” Crow clarified.

The lighthouse, situated on the island’s remote side and beyond the city’s boundaries, sat atop a rocky incline. It represented the highest, most secluded point on the island, accessible only by a narrow pass through the rocky landscape. Its significance was not lost on the leadership; it was their solitary beacon of potential rescue, thanks to its guiding light and the stationed radio array.

“The lighthouse might be the only valid reason to dispatch anyone beyond our walls. But we must acknowledge that if the islanders decide to seize it, our options would be severely limited,” said Carrack.

“An assault on the lighthouse is improbable,” Weiss said, his voice dripping in derision. “It lacks incentive. They must realize that any skirmish could jeopardize our only means of communication off this forsaken island. It’s illogical.”

“You clearly haven’t encountered desperation,” Crow retorted.

“He’s right, Weiss. Logic won’t satiate their hunger. Emotions will eventually supersede any rational thought,” Carrack added.

“The teamsters, enraged as they may be, retain some sense. I doubt they would permit such a rash act,” Weiss maintained.

“We can’t confirm if the teamsters still wield control,” Carrack pointed out. “Franzen was with me on the dock during the ship’s collision … I’m fortunate to have survived. If he didn’t, determining his successor becomes another uncertainty.”

“So what now? Rely on hope?” Crow inquired.

“From what I see, that may be our most viable option. Inform them that we’re considering measures for their safety. Yet, be honest—explain our limitations. We can’t extract them or aid. If the mobs come, they’ll need to lock themselves in and hold their ground as long as possible,” Carrack admitted.

“I’ll relay the message.” Crow rose, pausing to gauge Carrack’s reaction. Carrack nodde, and Crow exited. As Weiss made to follow, Carrack gestured for him to stay.

“Weiss, I’ve just informed my second-in-command that under no circumstances can we dispatch anyone outside. Now, I’ll contradict myself,” Carrack said.

Intrigued, Weiss leaned closer, murmuring, “The back channels?”

“The door’s closed, Weiss. We can be upfront. Yes, the links to the teamsters,” Carrack confirmed.

“I pondered on that during our discussion, but I was uncertain about the details you wished to share with Sergeant Crow,” Weiss admitted.

“It remains as before with Foeham. It’s exclusively between you, me, and Alaina,” Carrack specified.

Weiss recoiled. “You informed the sorceress? Why?”

“She’s inherently treacherous, Lord Carrack. Their kind thrives on deception,” Weiss contended.

“Set aside your biases for a moment. She’s indebted to me, and she hasn’t … hasn’t betrayed my trust,” Carrack retorted.

“That you’re aware of,” Weiss argued. “I have my reservations for valid reasons. Her actions have been questionable at best. I’ve heard the same rumors you have.”

“They’re merely whispers and overblown tales,” Carrack countered.

“Yet, she isolates herself in her chambers, producing bizarre sounds and odors. Men attending the wounded have reported eerie happenings. I sensed an unsettling aura when I went to see for myself. Something’s amiss, and it’s concerning,” said Weiss.

“Starving minds—they’re just hallucinating.” Carrack countered.

“Sir, as we just established, we have food now; we can’t attribute everything to hunger,” Weiss asserted.

“It could be the overactive imagination of stressed minds. People may not be starving, but they’re not satiated either. They are exhausted, anxious, soaked, ill, cold, and homesick—under numerous strains. No one is at their optimal state; we are all susceptible to hallucinations, more so if there’s an inherent suspicion toward mages,” Carrack reasoned. “Regardless … I don’t want to talk about Alaina right now. I need to get a message to whoever’s running the teamsters.”

Weiss hesitated before saying, “It’s a bit trickier now. It was usually them reaching out to me, but there were times I sent someone to a spot where they’d have someone to take our messages. Why do you want to reach them?”

“Obvious reasons, Weiss. We’re under siege here. Trapped by the most terrifying army, one we can’t even see—fear. I need to understand what’s happening out there, see if there’s any chance for a mutual understanding, détente,” Carrack laid out.

“I can … I can have one of the men working for me on this go out there,” Weiss suggested.

“Just one?” Carrack raised an eyebrow.

“Well, the other two are dead … So, yes, just one,” Weiss said, his words not without bitterness.

Carrack rubbed his nose, his face tightening at a thought forming in his mind. “I could go … I’ll go with him.”

A fleeting smirk crossed Weiss’s face before he rearranged his features into a more skeptical expression. “You can’t, sir. It’s not possible.”

“Why not?”

“You and I both understand why,” said Weiss, shaking his head at the mere thought. “God forbid, you get killed or worse, leaving this place without a leader.”

“Crow would assume command, until Foeham recovers,” said Carrack.

“Recovers … right. Crow is a reliable soldier—I have no doubts about that—but he’s strictly a soldier. He excels in the heat of the moment, but strategizing two or three steps ahead? I have serious reservations,” Weiss argued, his body language expressing his growing discomfort and self-irritation. He tapped his fingers on the table, each tap echoing his obvious internal turmoil. “Dammit, I’ll go.”

Carrack, eyes wide, managed to utter, “You?”

“Yes, me. Who else?” Weiss groaned. “I’m practically jobless right now … So, I suppose this task falls to me.”

“I must admit, I’m surprised,” Carrack confessed.

“So am I.” Weiss exhaled deeply. “I can leave tonight if necessary.”

“Are you sure you can? Do you really want to?” Carrack probed.

“Yes, dammit, stop questioning or I’ll change my mind!” Weiss buried his head in his hands, letting out a muffled groan. “Give me a little bit of time and I’ll see about.”

A spear of lightning lanced the sky, briefly illuminating the room with its intense glow, followed closely by a resonant clap of thunder so forceful it seemed to rattle the very foundations of the building. The symphony of rain against the glass increased, the sheets of water now a relentless barrage. After a lingering moment, Weiss’s gaze shifted to the window, observing the escalating tempest.

“Rain’s pickin’ up,” he commented with a touch of dryness in his tone.