by G M Archer
We visited the three statues along the route, making up the excuse that Joseph needed to go visit old battle sites held sacred to the knights. Riding Ram meant that it didn’t matter if anyone trailed us too, the rooster was swift enough they would never be able to catch us. At each statue I would retrieve Alexandra and we would update her on our progress and the happenings along our way. I pitied her loneliness, but she assured me that she enjoyed the time to read in peace. She made significant progress on the Journeyer language, but hadn’t found out anything that answered our mysteries yet. It was hard to leave her each time and return to the group, especially the last, when I knew we wouldn’t get to another statue unless we went northward to Wolfsden. There was also one to our east, but it was in an unexplored portion of Viafinis’s wilderness, but that was a detour we would probably not risk.
Ram’s speed wasn’t his only virtue. His versatility was present all along the way. While the rest of the group fearfully watch their horses stumbled through the boulders of the mountains, Ram fluttered around and chortled at their lack of success. His limited flight abilities were terrifying when riding him, but useful. With Swoot keeping him far from our rations, he would scavenge for his own food, his diet consisting of foliage and unfortunate small mammals.
Despite Joseph’s protests, I was convinced Ram could understand me. He had quite the entertaining personality as well. He proved that he had a battle prowess, however. A group of wolves started circling camp one night and he decimated them, they stood no chance against the tips of his spurs and the brutal flogging from his wings. After the group witnessed such an event, there was a lot less mockery jabbed at him.
The aches I got from walking and riding slowly but surely started turning into muscle, callouses forming on my hands as well. I felt ages older by the time Mountmend was visible in the distance.
The bulk of the city was high on a plateau, with the rest of the buildings sweeping down into the farmland plains below. The eastern part of the city bordered the Leebay River, where steamboats and sailing ships sit moored to the docks. To our south the grasslands transitioned into the thick foliage of the swamps, the darkness within the forest a daunting challenger.
“You’re not allowed to go into the city,” Joseph slowed his horse back to me from the front, where he’d been conversing with the soldiers, “too conspicuous. Too risky.”
“Is it the fact that I’m the lost princess, or is it the giant rooster?” I asked sarcastically.
Joseph shrugged, “I think it’s a bit of both,” he looked out over the plains, “Even though some of the farmers could have seen Ram already.”
“I anxiously await the rumors,” I said, rubbing my hands together.
Joseph rolled his eyes, “Yes, that’s exactly what we need is more controversy surrounding us. Anyways, we’ll wait south of town with the Voltaren residents. The soldiers will go into town for supplies, and we’ll meet back up to travel to the Shadow Fort. I anxiously awaiting meeting Hale again. He got sent all the way out here after Varrick’s crusades. I wonder why he’s been here for so long, though,” Joseph scratched his beard.
“I anxiously await the opportunity to rest,” I stretched, popping my neck.
Joseph yawned, “As do I.”
A movement caught my eye on the thatch roof of the farmhouse down the hill from us. Ram swiveled his head and hissed, his usual reaction. As to be expected, Joseph had started a conversation with Mond on his other side.
The Journeyer meandered around the roof in a circle, almost mocking me.
“Joseph,” I said in a monotone, not turning away as the Journeyer made its second lap around the roof.
He continued to talk, not hearing me.
“Joseph,” I said in a singsong voice.
“Hm? What? Atlas?” he blurted through the now shagginess of his beard, startling in my direction.
Knowingly, the Journeyer swooped down behind the house and out of view.
“Atlas?” Joseph questioned again.
I grumbled under my breath.
“What?” Joseph almost leaned off his horse.
“The Journeyer,” I motioned lazily in the direction, “Was on the roof of that farmhouse.”
“Sure, sure it was,” Joseph pursed his lips.
“Don’t patronize me, Neve saw it,” I crossed my arms.
He tried to imitate the motion and only succeeded in confusing his horse by tangling the reins.
“Neve also speaks to dogs,” Joseph said indignantly.
“Alexandra saw it!” I threw my hands in the air.
Ram clucked, startled.
“She’s crazy too,” Joseph said.
“I’m going to tell her you said that,” I teased.
“She knows where I stand,” he held his chin up.
Our attention was drawn to the front as the scout came trotting back, accompanied by unfamiliar men. The group drew to a halt as the Finn stopped to meet them. The leader of the newcomers talked to Finn for a bit, then, seeing me- or more appropriately, seeing Ram- spurred his horse to us.
He had rich, dark skin, a smooth square jaw and a slightly crooked nose, a feature you could tell had been broken more than once, and as he drew closer I could see a thin scar on his cheek that went all the way to his ear.
He gave a blinding smile, “Atlas?”
“Atlas,” I confirmed, leaning out to shake his hand.
Ram gave me a sharp look.
“I am Legion, for we are many,” he introduced himself.
“Interesting,” I nodded, “I have been told of you.”
“And I of you, respectively,” He said.
Legion turned to Joseph next.
“I am Joseph. Because my mother liked that name,” he rumbled.
Legion laughed, pulling down his shirt to reveal a brand that looked like it’d been there since the beginning of his life, “We are brothers, Joseph.”
“Then my mother has some explaining to do,” he regarded Legion.
Legion chuckled again, riffling through his saddlebag till he found what he wanted, handing me two letters.
I raised an eyebrow.
Joseph asked what they were.
“The one on top is a bounty note,” I started, reading as I spoke, “A thousand gold a piece for the heads of Maul’s filthy traitors and murders, and fifty-thousand for the body or head of the devil, Maul himself. Requested that the armor with rooster stamps be brought as proof with each head,” I gulped, looking down at what I was wearing.
“What? Why?” Joseph furled his brow.
“Read the other one,” prompted Legion.
“Dear, Varrick. Offer all your tarnished gold, but it makes no difference. Your fortress build on the bones of the innocent crumbles before the masses, and your control wanes. As an example of such,” I paused, “We’ve killed Atlas. Signed, Maul.”
“I didn’t know you were dead,” Joseph scoffed.
“Neither did I,” I raised an eyebrow, “I didn’t know Maul was going to do this. Apparently Varrick believed him.”
“It’s upset him too, my admiration to Maul. You should be thankful. People don’t look for a dead princess, but Maul’s painted a target on his back for every gold seeker in Viafinis,” Legion made a motion around him.
“He’ll like the attention,” I grumbled, “I bet it was Hirsh’s idea.”
“Why does Varrick care so much?” I looked at the ground, “When did that come in?”
“This morning actually. The notice is being sent to every town and requested to be copied and spread,” Legion said.
“Risky of Varrick to send out that ‘kingdom crumbling’ stuff,” Joseph said, deep in thought.
“It makes Maul look like the villain if he can succeed in killing him and his men, but,” Legion grinned, “It’ll look awful when we reveal you alive. We’ll wait till the right moment and make Varrick look a fool for thinking it true.”
“Leader of the revolution indeed,” I said as he finished.
He smiled, “I do consider myself one. Oh, I cannot wait for you to meet Monica. She was raised as a leader, so she’ll make an excellent one. She was born and reared a countess in the Terminus Empire. Her parents were killed as a result of the war, and she came here, seeking to someday avenge what was done to her family.”
“Revenge is not a proper motivator,” Joseph frowned.
“Sadly, it’s an effective one,” Legion did not catch Joseph’s further scowl as he turned to me, “She is waiting at the Shadow Fort to meet you, along with General Hale, who is eager for your assistance.”
“My assistance?” I questioned, “Why?”
“Your experience with the supernatural,” he pointed to Ram, “I’ve heard a story about you slaying a Panstalker and retrieving the Horn of Valor as well.”
“That was him that slayed the Panstalker,” I pointed to Joseph, “But why does he care about that?”
“He needs your help with- It’s- Well, it’s hard to explain- It’s easier to show than tell, and you will see soon enough,” Legion wound his hands nervously around the saddle horn.
Joseph and I shared equally fearful skeptical expressions.
One of the Legion’s men in the front turned, calling out, “Hey, Legion! Look, it’s Lafayette!”
I leaned up on Ram, looking around wildly, believing him, “What?”
Legion rolled his eyes, shaking his head.
“What are they talking about?” I looked to him.
The man that had called out looked back, “Legion thinks it’s his destiny to topple the titan of industry,” he laughed.
“Laugh if you want,” Legion spurred his horse forward, “But no matter how mighty the stag, the hunter always kills him,” Legion looked back at me, “I will see you on the road to the Witchwood.”
Our groups split, the soldiers following Legion and his men towards town.
The Voltaren citizens, I, and Joseph climbed a small hill overlooking the plains. Joseph rested on his bedroll, and I took the saddle off Ram to let him roll around in the grass. I polished the leather absentmindedly, wondering for the hundredth time where the patterned saddle had come from. Icarus’s Empire? It surely couldn’t be that old.
Maybe things from there didn’t age.
Joseph broke me out of my thoughts, “Queen Monica,” he scoffed, “I’d like to see Delilah or Maul’s opinion on that.”
“Let’s not start off with negative opinions,” I said, intensely scrubbing the leather.
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” Joseph put his hands behind his head, smirking at me.
I looked up, “I hate that you know me so well.”
Joseph looked up at the sky, his voice taking a more serious tone, “Jealousy is a no better motivator than revenge.”
I let out a long sigh, “I know, I know.”
I gazed southward, “What do you think Legion was talking about?”
“Something strange,” Joseph, “If he didn’t care to explain it. My bet is that it’s also dangerous.”
In the next few prevailing moments of silence, Joseph was soon snoring soundly, leaving me alone with my thoughts, watching the group mull about and Ram coat himself in grass.
I stared into the darkness of the forest, trying not to let my imagination concoct something more frightening than what we were going to face. If only I would have known that that wasn’t possible.
Chapter 19- Confused by the Dark Devices and Burdened
The canopy above us was thick enough to block out most of the sunlight, the swamp inflicted with a permanent twilight gloom. The horse’s hooves sucked into the muck, even on the road, and tendrils of vines drooped down and occasionally slicked across us like slimy fingers.
Ram was miserable, growling every time he pulled his feet from the mud.
As first we started our march at a casual speed, but the deeper into the gloom we traversed, the faster we went. Legion forced our group on at a brisk pace, his sense of urgency infectious, making the rest of the group move at a hurried trot.
Joseph peered off into the gloom, then looked at me. The further we went into the swamp, the more spooked the horses became, their ears laid flat and the whites of their eyes showing. The feathers on Ram’s neck stood up, his head darting around.
I looked off through the trees, the twisting trunks and the darkness in-between, and immediately faced forward again. The sounds of the swamp were all around us; an owl’s hoot, a frog’s bellow, and the chirping of insects, things that would have not been so strange if I weren’t so paranoid.
I heard Legion yell something about how we should’ve waited till the next day.
Why though?
The already shadowy sky was darkening. He didn’t want to be here at night, and with the briskness of his pace, I didn’t either.
The riders behind the wagon almost crashed into it as it came to a halt in the road, wheels sucking deep into the sludge. Legion wheeled his horse around, holding the reins back to keep it from bolting.
The horses on the wagon strained and whinnied, frantically trying to free themselves and the wagon from the mud. The man who owned the wagon whipped the animals desperately. Everyone’s mounts paced, heads thrown back.
Gertrude’s mare reared, and she held on desperately. Joseph was managing to keep his at bay, looking anxiously at me. Ram was frozen, eyes trained out on the darkness of the woodland.
“Stop!” I heard Legion command the wagon owner, “Leave the wagon! Just take the animals!”
“No!” the wagon owner said, “Just light some lanterns and strap some horses to it! We can pull it out!”
“Leave it!” Legion roared.
All the horses suddenly froze, everyone looking at each other in the silence.
A long warbling wail came from the darkness, an unnatural and frightening cry.
Several horses screamed, two reared, and Gertrude’s bolted into the swamp. It crashed into the water, thrashing, and she managed to steer it back onto the road.
“Go! Follow the road!” Legion pointed her on, and she angled the panicking animal on down the trail, gone with a flying splatter of mud.
The panic drew several with her, the horses pursuing each other.
Legion drew his sword and chopped off part of the horses’ restrains on the wagon. They smashed free from the harnesses, still connected to each other as they flew off down the road.
The wagon owner cried out in protest as Legion grabbed him and pulled him onto his horse, spurring it onwards.
What was left of the group took off after him, muck slinging over us. We rounded the last bend, a square fort visible in what was left of the light. The men at the gate were holding it open only enough to allow us through, immediately slamming it shut as we ran inside. I dismounted beside Joseph, a flurry of activity transpiring around us.
A helmed young soldier grabbed Joseph’s horse, pulling it into a slotted stable that rendered it immobile, corralling it on all sides. He closed a metal door, the horse whinnying and attempting to buck without the space to do so.
The soldier stopped and looked at Ram, “What do I do with him?” he said to himself and me. He sounded no older than a boy.
“Why are you putting the horses up like that?!” I yelled over the other shouts.
Behind me, the soldiers were blindfolding people and sticking plugs in their ears.
“So they don’t hurt themselves!” the soldier shouted back, “They panic!”
“Over what?!” I shouted.
Ram chirped and clucked, shrieking.
“Please, just put him up!” the soldier begged.
I pointed to a stall, and Ram looked at me fearfully, but ran into the box-like corral, turning one last time to cry out as the soldier shut the metal door.
“Jess!” A man in a tattered blue cloak jumped down, “Get them blindfolded!”
“Yes, sir!” the soldier saluted, running to a central box that they were pulling out cloth and pieces of cork for earplugs.
“Good to see you, Joseph!” he shook his hand hurriedly, “We can have a proper reunion in the morning! Jess will bring you blindfolds and something to plug your ears. Whatever you do don’t take them off till someone comes around in the morning and taps you on the shoulder three times!” he commanded.
“What?” Joseph gave him a look.
I could hear similar instructions all around us.
“I don’t have time to explain, I know it’s confusing. Listen to me, your lives depend on it!” Hale said, rushing to issue orders to the men around.
By the stables, the wagon owner started struggling against Legion.
“No, I won’t put on a bloody blindfold! I’m going to go find my horses!” he jerked out of Legion’s grip.
Legion and several of the men immediately tackled him, bodies rolling around in the mud as they restrained him.
Joseph gave me an appalled expression, grabbing my arm and drawing me close to him.
Jess ran over, beckoning us, “C’mon, to the bunks!”
We ran after him. He showed us to a couple cots, men already laid down, still and blindfolded all around us. Jess went to a bed across the room, removing his helm- no, her helm. That explained why I thought it was a young boy’s voice.
With a flash of blonde hair, she commanded us to cover our eyes and ears.
I stopped. I could hear . . . singing. I thought. Yes, the most beautiful voice I’d ever heard.
Joseph had blindfolded himself already, feeling the bed around him.
Jess got up, and started to walk towards me, a dire and demanding expression on her face. Thinking of what happened to the wagon owner, I shoved the cork in my ears and snapped the blindfold over my ears.
Time slugged by. I patted around the bed, and laid down.
I thought about trying to reach out to Joseph, but I was afraid it would prompt him to take off his blindfold. Our lives depended on it? That’s what he’d said? Why, though?
I laid silent, playing with the ring on my finger, thinking I could hear muffled things at the limits of my earshot, the most enthralling of which was the coo of the singing voice.