01 Wing Warrior by Kevin Outlaw Page A

spears, and marching in the courtyard. Why these things were so incredibly important, Hawk wasn’t sure; but they definitely were, otherwise why else would he have to do them?
    Hawk was seventeen years old and had officially been a soldier for just over a month, having only recently finished his tuition at the Crystal Shine Academy of Archery and Swordplay. He had never really taken to sword fighting, it was tiring and very hard work; but archery was something he had really enjoyed, and he had graduated from the school with honours.
    His skill with a bow was such that he was selected to perform a demonstration at the palace before Lord and Lady Citrine, the rulers of Crystal Shine and all the adjoining lands. The demonstration was received so well he was immediately appointed a position under the command of Captain Shard, whose responsibility it was to protect the Western Borders from invasion.
    ‘This is a very important position,’ Captain Shard had once said.
    ‘Yes, Captain,’ Hawk had said.
    ‘If we are ever invaded, those of us here at the fort will be the first line of defence,’ the captain went on. ‘That means we are entirely responsible for looking after all of our people. You must remember that at all times.’
    The Western Borders had never been invaded, as far as Hawk knew, but he was sure that didn’t make his job any less important; and he had no reason to doubt that what the captain said was absolutely true. Thinking it through logically, the fact the Western Borders had never been invaded spoke volumes about what a good job the soldiers of Flint Lock did.
    ‘But really, think about it. Who’s going to invade us?’ Clay, one of the other soldiers, had said.
    ‘I don’t know,’ Hawk replied. ‘But there must be someone, otherwise we wouldn’t be here.’
    And that, pretty much, summed Hawk up. He was a simple boy with a simple mind, and he tried his best not to concern himself with business he shouldn’t be concerned with. He didn’t know why he was positioned at the fort, and he didn’t need to. He had been told being there was important, and that was good enough for him.
    ‘Don’t you ever feel like you’re wasting your time here?’ Clay had asked.
    ‘Why should I?’ Hawk said. ‘How can you ever be wasting your time when you’re doing something you love?’
    And indeed, Hawk loved being a soldier.
    He had started loving being a soldier the first day he had put on his suit of shiny new armour, and he had thought nothing in the world would ever make him stop loving it.
    But on the day the Forbidden River rose up, and goblins returned to the realms of men, Hawk made an important discovery.
    He discovered he was completely wrong.
     
    ***
     
    It was late afternoon, and the shadows were lengthening as the tired sun dipped below the horizon, turning the sky a fiery orange. There were no birds, and the land as far as the eye could see was silent and sleepy.
    Hawk was standing watch on the north turret of Flint Lock, which was the tallest and therefore most important turret. He was dressed in the armour of a Flint Lock guard, with a silver breastplate and a red–crested helmet. He was armed with his ceremonial spear, as was traditional for all guards at the fort, but he also had with him his bow and a full quiver of new arrows.
    He had been on watch for almost six hours, and was beginning to get tired. Staring at an empty landscape where nothing ever moves can have that affect on a person. His mind, despite his best efforts not to let it, was beginning to wander; and the prospect of a hot supper was getting more and more appealing.
    White flakes of cloud tangled around the distant tops of the Sanguine Mountains, rising like steam from the humped back of a monster. He watched, drumming his fingers on the wall of the turret, as the clouds peeled away and broke on invisible air currents.
    There were rumours the mountains that loomed menacingly on the north–western edge of the borderlands