Chapter 36 - Sound of Hooves (18 Jan 25)

The morning drills were already well underway.The barracks yard was a churned-up patch of packed dirt and sweat-stained cloth. Dust hung thick in the morning air, gritty and insistent, a tangible presence that clung to Harold's skin and caught in his throat. Two ranks of soldiers moved in unison, poles raised, shields braced, boots stamping in time. Garrick's voice cracked over the line like a whip, calling cadence from the front."Advance!"The formation pushed forward — it wasn't perfect, but close. Feet struck the earth in near-unison. Dust rose, caught in the low winter light.Harold was in the second rank again, legs burning. The shield strapped to his arm was slick with cold sweat, and the weight of the training pole across his back was heavier than it should have been. He grunted as he stepped forward, doing his best to brace. A thought flickered through his mind, quick and sharp: Would today be the day he finally caught Garrick's approving nod, or would he once again fall short, just another soldier in the ranks? The man was brutal.It was brutal work — repetitive, dull, painful — and still the best thing for the soldiers they had. Drill enough, and fear stopped being the first instinct. At least that was the theory. The jury was out on whether Harold believed it.Garrick called a halt, and the formation stilled with a rough crash of boots."You break ranks again, I'll make you march perimeter laps until your boots rot!" he shouted.Harold shifted his shield and exhaled through gritted teeth. His whole body ached. He was already planning a long soak in the bath later — assuming no one used all the hot water again. Just a quiet evening. Maybe a warm corner of the hall. Something that didn't involve getting hit with poles.He glanced toward the path running east, little more than a worn rut in the ground, packed by weeks of use.That was when he heard it.A distant, rolling rumble. Not thunder. Not voices. It was something more profound, a rhythm that settled into your bones, like a war-drum beaten by giants. The unexpected pulse reverberated through the air, hinting at a mass yet unseen.Many, many boots and something else.Harold's head snapped up. Garrick had already turned, one hand raised to shade his eyes. The soldiers shifted uneasily in the line.Then came the shouts carried on the cold wind.Figures appeared at the edge of the treeline, first a few, then more. They moved at a steady pace with the kind of weariness Harold recognized immediately. One soldier trudged alongside the others, his left boot torn and flapping with each step, catching on stray stones. An adventurer walked with a slight limp, using his spear as a makeshift crutch.Marching back from something hard. And behind them— The herd.Dozens of shaggy, snorting shapes. Massive, dark-shouldered tatanka. Their heads hung low, hooves thudding in uneven rhythm as they were herded down the slope toward the open fields east of the barracks. More than a hundred — maybe closer to the full count Hale had promised.The breath caught in Harold's throat."They actually did it," Garrick muttered beside him.The returning column was flanked by adventurers and soldiers working in pairs, using long poles and bundled cord barriers to keep the herd from scattering. The tatanka moved slowly, but deliberately — their bulk churning the earth with every step.From where Harold stood, he could see the makeshift pens northeast of the barracks. Crews were already running to open the temporary fencing, waving rough cloth and shouting to guide the lead animals in.At the front of the column, Hale walked with a slight limp, one arm strapped against his side — dirty, tired, but upright. The four Optios were close behind, their colored cloth armbands dulled with sweat and ash. The whole force looked like they'd lived through a war; they were half-covered in mud, and more than a few of them looked injured.Then another group emerged from the woods at a sharp angle — dirt-smeared, armor mismatched, a ragged banner trailing behind them.Sarah.Harold didn't wait.He crossed the field fast, boots sliding in the churned earth, and closed the distance in long strides.Sarah looked up just as he reached her.Her face was gaunt and her eyes red. Her braid was half-undone. She didn't even get a word out before Harold wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in tight.She didn't resist. The smell of blood, sweat, and smoke clung to her, but Harold didn't care. She buried her face in his chest for a moment, just long enough to breathe like someone who finally could.He kept one arm around her and glanced up — just in time to see Mark moving fast from the direction of the hall.Evan had just stepped into the clearing, and the moment their eyes met, Mark didn't slow.They collided in a rough hug — no words at first. Evan just leaned into him, the makeshift sack on his back forgotten for now.Mark's voice was tight. "You look like shit."Evan gave a hoarse chuckle. "You'd cry if you saw the other guy."They didn't let go.Harold finally eased back enough to study Sarah's face."What happened?""Later," she muttered. "We made it. That's the short version."Carter approached from the side, spear dragging slightly as he moved. He nodded once to Harold.Behind them, Jace dropped to sit on the nearest rock with a grunt. "God, I missed the dirt here.""You mean the dirt that doesn't try to poison your boots?" Theo muttered. He looked like he hadn't slept in a day and a half — eyes rimmed with red, gear dusted in soot and something that looked suspiciously like blood."I mean dirt that's not alive," Jace replied. "That slime pit was a war crime."Mira unbuckled her satchel carefully and laid it on the ground. Her hands were shaking slightly. "We cataloged what we could. Most of it is ruined. I salvaged a few of the herbs you told us to watch for." She paused, then muttered at Sarah. "Ask him..." motioning with her eyes at Harold.Sarah just rolled her eyes and mouthed. "Later."Theo stretched his arms overhead, then winced and stopped halfway. "Don't let her fool you," he said, jerking his chin toward Sarah. "We barely made it. No maps, two dead ends, and one boss that had a sword as large as me!""You're not supposed to try blocking it with a wooden shield," Mira said."Thanks, Mira," Theo snapped. "Maybe lead with that next time."Sarah snorted. "Next time, I'm sending you into the pit first.""You say that like I wasn't already."Harold blinked at all of them. They were clearly exhausted, grimy, bruised, with mouths still full of adrenaline, but they were alive. Together. And it wasn't just the banter. It was the way they stood near each other, like soldiers who have been drilled until fear is no longer the first instinct. The way none of them moved far without a glance at the others, forged through shared trials into something more than just a team.He turned back to Sarah, who shrugged tiredly."We're still standing," she said."You did well," Harold said.Jace gave a tired thumbs-up. Mira just nodded once. Theo muttered something about needing a nap before he punched someone.Harold finally let out a long breath and looked toward the returning herd.The day had barely started. But it was already a win.Harold stepped back, scanning the exhausted faces around him — soldiers, adventurers, villagers beginning to gather at the edges of the yard. The dust from the herd was still settling in the air."Alright," he said, raising his voice enough to carry.The conversation quieted. People turned toward him — Hale, Garrick, Carter, Sarah's team, even Evan, now standing beside Mark at the edge of the group."I want leaders only right now. Hale, Garrick, Carter, Evan."He glanced at Sarah. "You too. Mira, Jace, Theo — get food and rest. You've earned it."Jace grunted in approval and didn't need to be told twice. Theo gave a mock salute and limped toward the hall. Mira gathered her satchel and followed, quiet as ever.When the core group had circled, Harold continued. "Priority is getting that herd squared away." He glanced at Garrick who picked up without missing a beat, "I'll send whoever I can spare to assist." Harold nodded, turning to Carter. "Pick reliable people to rotate watch on the pens. We can't have them wandering off or spooking in the night." Carter gave a firm nod, understanding the urgency."Evan," Harold continued, "any urgent fallout from the dungeon?"Evan shook his head. "Nothing that can't wait. We brought back some items, but I'd rather we rest before diving into details. That perk Sarah and her team got is a doozy. World first, increased chance of getting a Perk from dungeon creatures and 10% more loot each clear.""Good," Harold said, already knowing what the perk was. "If it's not pressing, take care of your people. If you're able, I'd like all of you to attend the morning meeting tomorrow. We'll sort the reports then."Everyone nodded.Harold turned back to Sarah. Dirt clung to her face like warpaint. Blood — old, not hers — streaked one shoulder. Her braid was half undone. But her eyes were steady, and her hands weren't shaking."Go get cleaned up," he told her quietly. "Eat something. Rest. Then find me later, and we'll talk."She gave a tired half-smile. "You gonna let me get a beer with that?"Harold gave the ghost of a grin. "I would kill for one as well. Maybe I should steal some of that grain Caldwell has."Sarah nodded once, then turned away toward the halls.Harold watched her go. Then turned back to the others. "Let's get this locked down. We'll celebrate tomorrow — if everything still holds."