Not Gonna Die (A Skybrine Fanfic)

|Chapter 4| Warm fire, cold hands

I wrote the first few paragraphs on paper (I know, who uses paper now days?) so ye, might be a different style, I'm not sure.

   The seasons, as they always do, passed in their steady march; winter dissolving into spring, spring leaping into summer, summer grumbling into autumn and autumn finally yielding to winter until spring snuck in again. The wall surrounding the crumbling base slowly grew over the season's changes and the buildings inside sprouted and were steadily filled: carpet, furniture, lanterns, crops, weapons, wool, various supplies, raw ores and, slowly, people.

   They came in from the farthest reaches of the land, from the snow country to the desert to the ocean and mountain ranges. Some were simply lost, misguided on the way home: others wandered in from villages burned by the arrogance of various lords and their armies: and some were the sad remains of crushed armies, bruised, bloodied and sorry, grumbling against their former lord, vainly searching for some way to support themselves, some sort of safe haven.

   And a safe haven was what they found, both them and the many others who came across the newly built army base. Everyone who came was taken in and given food, water, shelter and safety. Optional training was offered and almost everyone who came participated in it. They were taught how to work together and how to defend themselves and their family using various weapons; with a whole village trained, they were a decent force for an army fresh out of battle.

   But another offer was made to all who came: to stay and to join their army, to go out and protect villages when it was needed but also to defend their own walls at times. And the moments did come when they had to stand upon the formidable stone, staring down the army milling on the other side; warning, but never offensive. More often than not, the army stalked away with their tails between their legs and these threats became fewer and fewer until finally, three years after Adam had first seen the crumbling stone, the peaceful army made their first tentative approach to a neighbouring army for peace.

   It took several false starts before they managed to sign off on a treaty and several more months before other lords grudgingly agreed to put down arms and come to the wooden table in the simple room in a plain house within the repaired walls. More often than not they glared at each other across the table while Jason sat between them and Mitch stood menacingly at the door, daring someone to make a hostile move. Yet, in only three years, the area that surrounded their base and had been caught in a pointless, raging war, faded into a sort of grudging peace that slowly spread until, six and a half years since Adam had joined their ranks, he and several others were riding through the country, going to check on a village overlooked by Lord Robert, one of the few lords who had still refused to make a treaty.

   It was almost summer in the lower reaches of the country but up here, the winter stuck around for longer. Although there was no snow, the air was frigid and Adam's breath steamed in the air, his nose stinging red. Thick gloves were on his hands and the jumper he wore was of a better quality than his old leather one which had finally given out a few years prior and possessed a hood lined with sheep's wool that tickled his ears.

   One of the men who rode beside him stood up in his stirrups, looking around the plain country. There were only a few gnarled trees that braced the freezing winters but the ground was a rolling grassy plain with rocks jutting up from the ground like rows of dull teeth. The man wore a jacket very similar to Adam's, and he had bright red hair cut close to his scalp. His skin had been tanned when Adam had first met him but it had become more pale over the years and his riding boots came up to his mid-calf. "I'm not seeing any villages," he said to Adam, sitting back down in his saddle. "It's supposed to be around here."

   "We've probably come a bit too far west," Adam said, a shiver buzzing through him. "But if the village was burned, we'll be able to see the smoke."