Marcus Valorian's Arc

Chapter 3 of 5

The growls circled closer, but the wall still held. Marcus turned to check his line and saw the crack begin. A young private near the center had dropped his shield to his knees. His breath came in fast gasps. Blood soaked the bandage on his shoulder. The boy's eyes darted to the dark, then to the gate behind him. Marcus knew that look. It was the look of someone about to run. "Webb," Marcus said. He kept his voice low. "Stay with me." But Webb was already backing away. He was the smallest of the conscripts, barely old enough to hold a spear. His helmet slid over his eyes as he shook. "I can't," he whispered. "They're going to kill us. I can't stand here." He took another step back. The boys beside him felt the gap and glanced over their shoulders. The wall began to sag, just as it had after the first beast. If Webb bolted, the line would open. The pack would pour through the breach. Marcus had one moment to hold it. He did not grab the boy. He knelt in front of him instead, blocking his view of the gate. "Look at me," Marcus said. "Not the dark. Me." Webb's wet eyes found his face. "You carried one of those wounded boys tonight. You held him so he wouldn't bleed out. That took more nerve than running ever will." Webb's chin trembled. "I'm scared." "So am I," Marcus said. "That's why I need you beside me and not behind me." He pulled off his own steel breastplate, the plates scarred from a dozen fights. He pressed it into Webb's arms. "This is mine. Wear it. It's held me through worse than this. Now it holds you." The boy stared at the heavy armor. Slowly he stopped shaking long enough to slide it over his head. It hung big on his thin frame, but it made him stand taller. Marcus reached down and lifted the dropped shield. He put it back in Webb's hands. Then a new voice cut across the yard. Rose, the redheaded woman who cooked and poured for the camp, ran down the line with an armful of spears. Marcus knew her from the mess hall, always quick with a joke. She was not laughing now. "Fill the gap, you lot!" she shouted, shoving weapons into empty hands. "I've got no wall to hide behind, so neither do you." Her nerve shamed the wavering boys into place. Webb wiped his face and stepped forward. He locked his shield against the boy next to him. The gap closed. The line went solid again. "Good," Marcus said. "Now we hold together." The growls surged into a roar. The pack broke from the dark and charged the wall. But the wall did not break this time. Webb stood in the front rank, small and shaking, and he did not run.