Chapter 78 — Bronze

Chapter 78: Chapter 78 — Bronze

Chapter 78 — Bronze

The younger male broke the inner feeding gate before dawn.

The outer stone wall and chained gate held, barely. When Owen crossed into the small plane, Aldous was waiting at the enclosure, splintered timber in his hands.

"It found the weakest thing in the pen," Owen said.

"That is what frightened animals do," Aldous replied. "Build the next one so it cannot."

They replaced the divider with stone posts and two iron-bound rails, the permanent workers rolling rock from the fallen wall near the Knight castle to do it. Thunder watched from outside the white stones until the young warthogs came back to the trough, and when she leaned forward, Christopher reached through the bond and told her to leave the animals alone.

"Those animals are not food."

They smell like food.

"So do the ordinary pigs at Dragonwatch."

Thunder gave him a doubtful look, then stayed at his side.

Christopher began his morning training on the terrace above the enclosure, Godfrey standing a few paces off while Thunder folded down opposite him, her tail curling in against the stone. The Dragon Knight breathing method needed no spoken count. Christopher found the rhythm the way he always did now, matching his breath to the slow rise and fall of her chest until the two synced without him having to think about it.

Essence moved through Christopher’s Knight Seed, the same path it always took, except that morning it did not stop where it always stopped. Months of training, hunting, and the slow pull of the contract with Thunder had been widening that channel without him noticing, and the familiar wall of pressure simply was not there anymore.

Christopher kept breathing.

The Seed expanded. Heat rolled through his chest and shoulders, and under it came a deep ache that settled into his bones, as if something inside him were being reset into a larger shape. Thunder’s presence steadied the rhythm — her own Essence answering his, fierce and warm against it — but she held back from forcing more into him than he could hold.

The change ended quietly.

Christopher opened his eyes. Sweat chilled on his neck, and Thunder stood closer than before, her forehead almost touching his.

Godfrey crossed the terrace and placed two fingers against Christopher’s wrist, then rested a hand between Christopher’s shoulders while Christopher circulated Essence once more.

"Bronze," Godfrey said. "Cleanly formed."

Christopher flexed his hands. His body felt heavier and lighter at once. "That is all?"

"You expected the mountain to answer?"

"I expected it to hurt more."

"It may later. Sit down before you fall and make me regret saying it was clean."

Christopher sat down on the low wall while pride pressed through the bond from Thunder’s side of it. A thinner thread of the same new strength had run back to her through the contract, pushing her further into Rank Three.

Godfrey gave him water. "You do not train with the sword today."

"I feel well enough to train."

"That sentence has preceded many foolish injuries."

Christopher drank and watched Owen’s workers set the new rails. "Walter and Ivo are still better fighters."

"Much better. Bronze gives you more Essence and a stronger body. It does not give you their years."

"I understand the difference."

"Knowing while seated is easy. Remember it when someone insults you with a sword in his hand."

They returned to Dragonwatch before noon. Christopher told Walter and Ivo himself in the inner house; Bennet entered the new rank into the household record; Mabel looked him over and ordered a full meal before he had finished explaining why he did not need one. Outside, the soldiers kept drilling in the yard, unaware anything had changed.

In the afternoon, Christopher inspected the soldiers with Walter. Their shields rose together, though the rear line lost spacing on turns.

He walked the wall afterward and checked the western firing positions. Thunder remained inside the small plane; weapons practice could wait until morning.

The change in his body showed the moment he started climbing. The steep stair beside the western tower usually turned his legs heavy by the top landing; this time he reached the platform without slowing his pace at all. His hearing had sharpened too: he could pick out Walter’s commands from the yard below and, fainter, the ring of a hammer near the gate.

He remained less skilled than Walter and could use his father’s sword properly for only a few exchanges. Bronze gave him a stronger body and more Essence; experience would still take time.

Thunder spread her wings below the wall.

Hunt, she sent.

"Tomorrow."

Now.

"Godfrey said no training."

What came back through the bond was pointed: watching her kill something was not training, and she wanted him to notice the difference.

Christopher laughed. "Tomorrow."

She struck the ground with her tail and went toward the kitchens.

Walter joined Christopher on the platform once the soldiers changed units, and looked him over for a moment before speaking.

"Sir Godfrey told you?" Christopher asked.

"He did. Congratulations, my lord."

"You do not sound impressed."

"You reached Bronze. That is worth respect. It does not mean I should let you win tomorrow."

"I would be worried if you did."

Walter rested both hands on the stone. "The soldiers will hear by supper. Men notice when their lord advances."

"Will it change anything for them?"

"It tells them you train while they train. That matters more than a speech."

Below them, the soldiers formed five groups. Five remained on duty at the Knight castle; the others drilled under Walter and Ivo.

Christopher watched until the next drill began. "How long before they can hold the wall?"

"They can hold it now if the enemy is weak and the order is simple. Give them more time before asking them to recover after a breach."

"We may not receive more time."

"Then we train with the time we have."

The answer was plain, but it was better than false confidence.

That evening, Christopher ate with the household in the inner castle. Joan served roasted fish, bread, and vegetables from the beds near the wall. Meg carried a bowl to the table, then returned to feed the hounds before darkness, while Bram ate enough for three people and asked whether Bronze made Christopher stronger than a horse.

"No," Christopher said.

Bram chewed on that. "A small horse?"

Godfrey drank from his cup. "Do not encourage him, my lord."

"I was going to say no again."

Bram’s face fell for exactly as long as it took him to reach for more bread, and then he kept eating.

By the next morning, word of the breakthrough had gone through the whole settlement. The soldiers bowed deeper when he crossed the yard, Bennet updated the household roll without being asked, and Owen wanted to know whether the change meant Christopher could carry more stone — then grinned when Christopher just looked at him.

Thunder waited beside the hidden gate.

They crossed into the small plane with Godfrey. The five Green soldiers stood at the Knight castle gate in borrowed mail, workers were already in the lower fields cutting roots and clearing the old water channels, and the kitchen chimney was smoking again.

Thunder launched from the road before Christopher reached the yard, climbing above the trees, turning once, and disappearing toward the grassland.

"She did not wait for permission," Christopher said.

"Did you expect her to?" Godfrey asked.

"I hoped the contract would help."

"It helped her tell you what she planned."

They found her near the orchard with a magical deer pinned beneath one foreclaw. She had killed cleanly and had already eaten part of the neck.

Satisfaction came through the bond from her side, and underneath it ran a thread of the same new strength he had felt after the breakthrough: the contract had carried a piece of his advancement over to her as well.

Thunder lowered her head and tore free another piece.

"Do not eat all of it," Christopher said. "The workers need meat."

Her eyes went from the deer to the distant castle and back, weighing one against the other.

Mine.

"You can keep half."

Thunder demanded more. They settled on two-thirds after an argument conducted mostly through hunger, pride, and increasingly detailed images of a dragon starving beside a full kitchen.

Godfrey watched Christopher cut the remaining meat. "A Bronze Knight bargaining with a hatchling over venison."

"She knows she can win."

"Then stop letting her."

Thunder sent Godfrey an image of the deer’s antlers being placed in his bed.

Christopher turned away before Godfrey saw him smile.

They returned to the castle before noon, Christopher helping carry the meat but leaving the heavier half to Godfrey.

Training resumed the following morning. Godfrey used the same wooden sword and the same simple attacks, but Christopher lasted longer before the first strike reached his shoulder.

The second caught his ribs.

The third knocked his sword from his hand.

"Better," Godfrey said.

Christopher picked up the sword. "That did not feel better."

"It rarely does."

Thunder watched from the edge of the yard. Each time Christopher fell, amusement moved through the bond, and when he finally touched Godfrey’s sleeve with the wooden blade, her amusement became fierce approval.

Christopher reset his stance.

Bronze was progress. He intended to make it useful.

Near sunset, Bram found Christopher beside the gate.

"Sir Godfrey says you are Bronze now."

"I reached Bronze this morning."

Bram thought for a moment. "I am still stronger."

Christopher laughed. "Yes, you are."

"That is good."

"Did that worry you?"

"It worried me a little."

Bram walked away content.

Joan found Christopher near the kitchen yard before supper. "My lord, the cooks need another covered rack. The hounds stole two fish while Meg was helping at the eastern gate."

"Tell Owen to add it to the kitchen work. Until then, keep the fish inside the smokehouse."

Joan bowed. "Yes, my lord. Meg has already moved the hounds."

That night, the new Bronze strength settled into him as a deep, steady ache, the kind that came from muscle finding a shape it had not held before. He had advanced, but the holding looked exactly the same from his window: recruits crossed the yard, workers carried timber, and the watch changed on the walls.

Christopher preferred it that way. Tomorrow still required him to rise before dawn.