The Hand

Part 8

"Huah!" Exclaimed Elle as she swung her Sabre at Rook. He parried, staggering back. She took another swing at him, a high downward arc. Rook sidestepped and slammed the pommel of his machete down onto the hilt of Elle's sabre. She lost her grip on it and the sword fell to the ground. Rook spun and placed his blade at her throat.

"You did good," He said, removing the blade. It had been a full month since the training had begun and Rook was thoroughly confident in the skills of his men. They were no longer the disillusioned prisoners he had taken captive. They were strong men, eager to fight for their country once again. 

"But you always win," Elle said, picking up her sword. 

"That doesn't matter, you almost had me back there anyways," Rook replied, sheathing his machete. It had been a month and Elle still hadn't been discovered. He worried about that everyday. The Captain of The Hand was a . . . traditional man. He didn't want Elle in a dungeon, he didn't think she would survive.

"Almost had, means I lost," She said, a slight tone in her voice.

"Yes, but you won't be fighting me, you will be fighting rebels," Rook said, "And you can beat most of the men in the company!" Rook had noticed Elle had a real knack for swordplay. She was quick on her feet and could think fast. He wondered if she had trained previously.

"Fine, I suppose you're right,"

Rook didn't have a chance to respond as the runner burst onto the training grounds.

"Sir . . . Captain . . . Rook . . . sir," The man was struggling to catch his breath. Rook waited there patiently. The man took a minute to recover.

"Sir, the Chancellor wishes to see you in the war room immediately," He said, still slightly out of breath.

"Thank you, you can be on your way now," Rook replied. He turned to Elle.

"Duty calls," He said with a smirk. Elle said goodbye as Rook headed off to the Grey Keep.

***

It wasn't yet noon when Rook pushed the oak doors aside and strode into the war room. Once again, the Chancellor, the Great General and the Captain of The Hand were all inside, standing around the map of the Empire.

Rook cleared his throat, "Sirs," he said, bowing slightly.

"Good, come here, over to the map my boy," said the Chancellor. He seemed to be in a good mood.  Rook walked over to the centre of the room and peered over the map. He noticed that the city of Fellburrow had markers atop it.

"As you probably already figured, my spies have located Dannison. He is holed up in the city of Fellburrow with all of his officers. My spies say they are planning something large," the Chancellor said, slightly grave.

"Mmhmm . . . we can go in and kill all of them. In one fell swoop," Rook stated.

"You're men are ready? Most of your company is made up of the new recruits," said the Captain.

"I'm confident in their abilities sir. Besides, we are a small unit, we shouldn't have too much difficulty infiltrating the city,"

"Alright, I trust your judgement. You need to leave tomorrow morning,"

"Yessir!"

"Now go Rook, tell your men and enjoy this night. I have a feeling things are going to get ugly fast,"

With a curt nod Rook was out of the war room and heading down the stairs. He was moving fast, eager to share the news.

***

Rook marched out onto the training grounds. All the men were sparring with each other or practicing their aim in the shooting range. 

"ATTENTION!" He boomed. Every man stopped what he was doing and turned to Rook. He strode forward as Tucker ushered the men into formation. 

"We have received orders and will be moving out tomorrow morning. We are marching to Fellburrow to find and kill Dannison," Rook announced, using his most official voice. Many of the men cheered. Even though it was only twenty voices it sounded extremely loud. 

"You all have the rest of the day off," This elicited even more cheering, "Enjoy the day and be ready for tomorrow!" Rook watched as the men filed off, cheerily. All of the recruits were very green, and that made Rook worry. He hoped they would be able  to steel themselves when it was most important.