by David Adams
“We mean you no harm,” Adrianna told him.
The man bit off a laugh. “I’ve heard the like before. No offense to you.”
“None taken. These are difficult times.”
“That they are.”
“We’ve been away north for some time,” Silas said. “How goes the war?”
“Not sure if I rightly know. But it’s finished here anyway, or should be. There’s nothing left worth fighting for.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean Genola’s been sacked by those Longvalers, and I’ve heard Antigo’s the same. Even so, I’ll pass through that way and see what I can find by way of work or food. Not enough of either in Genola for my liking, and no hope of it getting better anytime soon. No one’s in charge there, every man for himself it seems. Not a way for a child to live, or a man for that matter.” He caught himself and cleared his throat. “Sorry. More than you wanted to hear I’d wager.”
“No, that’s quite all right,” Silas said. “Do you know what became of Longvale’s army after they left Genola, or where the Dalusian army might be?”
“Both far to the west, I’d guess, but I really don’t know. Heard the Longvalers hit Antigo, but past that…nothing. That’s why we’ll likely go on to Four Creek or even head down south. Might be warmer at least.”
“That’s a long trip,” Adrianna said. “How are your provisions?”
The man eyed her with a scowl. “We don’t have much. Nothing that would interest you, anyway. We’ll scrape by, heaven willing.”
“I wasn’t thinking to rob you. I’m concerned for the child.”
“The child I’ll look out for, thanks. Anything else you need to know? Daylight’s wasting.”
“Is there anyone connected with the Dalusian army in Genola that might understand what’s happening out west?” Barlow asked.
“I was connected to the army,” the man said. “Most of us…well, there weren’t many left after the Longvalers were done. They didn’t take kindly to us defending our own, especially that leader of theirs.”
“Orgoth,” Darius stated.
“Don’t know his name, but I’d recognize him in an instant on the battlefield. Never known a man could fight like that. Almost inhuman.”
“I’ve heard stories to the same effect.”
“Pray you don’t get to experience him firsthand.”
“So there’s no one—” Silas began
“A few others pulled through. Sergeant Conta for one. Don’t know what he knows. If you find him you can ask.”
“And who should we say gave us his name?”
The man gave the sled a tug and started off. “No one. I’ve got enough trouble.”
As the sled moved past, Adrianna slipped a blanket onto the child, adding a conspiratorial wink. The child stared back, frightened, but wisely held onto the blanket.
“Great,” Darius said after they were gone. “What’d we learn from that?”
“That no one can be trusted,” Uesra answered.
“Guess we already knew that. Any thought to changing direction?” he asked the group.
They decided they didn’t know enough to wander out west hoping to find Orgoth, so they’d stick with their earlier plan. They could only hope they would get better information in the ruins of Genola.
* * *
They reached Genola four days later, at dusk. Even from a distance they could see this once was a city of some import, and just as easily saw the devastation that had brought it low. The walls had been reduced to hunks of rubble, and if the buildings inside were of any size before, these too had been leveled. A half-dozen small fires let them know there were still some who inhabited the ruins.
They had decided their best option was for Silas and Darius to go forward while the others waited, being that they’d be the most likely to be inquiring after the army due to their ages. There was a small copse of trees on the far side of the road where the others could take shelter. If they didn’t hear from Darius and Silas by morning, Adrianna and Barlow would try their luck, posing as refugees.
The nearest fire was a likely target, being positioned where the road used to run past one of the city gates. Now there were innumerable ways to get into the city, but Silas and Darius weren’t spies, and didn’t want to enter as such. They approached in an open manner, with their weapons hidden.
The fire was tended by one man only, who whistled softly while roasting a small piece of meat over the flames. It was a striking image, the man appearing content with such a small morsel for a meal while the evidence of destruction and despair was all about him.
“Good evening,” Silas said as they neared, not wanting to startle him.
He looked up, the whistling cut off but the smile remaining place. “Evening. Going to be a cold night, as usual. I don’t have food to share, but the fire might do you some good.”
They accepted his invitation with thanks, using some of the rubble for makeshift chairs.
“Don’t get many strangers up this way,” he said. “You been on the road long?”
“Actually, yes. And we’re a bit out of touch with the news. We’re hoping to learn how the war goes.”
The man let out a short laugh and gestured behind himself. “The war came and went, as you can see.”
“Do you know which way it went?” Darius asked.
“West, from here, but that was a while back. Not sure where it is now.”
“We were told a Sergeant Conta might have some news.”
“Really,” the man said, adding a shrug. “Who told you that?”
“He didn’t give us his name. We passed him on the road several days ago. Said he was out of Genola.”
“Well, as you might guess, there’ve been quite a few refugees of late. Off in search of a better life, I suppose. Seems to me until things get settled, here is as good a place as any to hole up. Not like the Longvalers have a reason to hit here again. They were pretty thorough the first time.”
“So it would appear.”
The man chewed what was left of his meal with a thoughtful look upon his face. “So why are you looking for the war, anyway? Trying to rejoin your unit?”
Darius and Silas couldn’t help exchanging a look before Darius answered, “You could say that.”
The man grunted and shook his head. “Why go looking for a war? It’ll come for you soon enough.”
“Sometimes duty calls.”
The man studied Darius a moment, finally said, “You’ve fought in the war, haven’t you.”
“Yes.”
“I could tell. You aren’t chasing after it expecting it to be some sort of memorable adventure, something that’ll give you tales to brag about with your friends. Some of the younger ones are that way. There’s a twinkle in their eye, an excitement about them, but that fades after they’ve seen the beast for what it is.”
Darius nodded. “I take it you were in the army.”
“For a time, like pretty much everyone here fit to carry a sword. After the city fell… Well, any organization kind of melted away. Some went looking to join up elsewhere, others decided to just try to survive.”
“What if they did come back, the Longvalers?” Silas asked. “Would you fight?”
“If I was cornered, yes. Pointless though, especially if that Orgoth is still leading them. But if I’m gonna die, I’d rather go down fighting.”
“Well, that’s where we are, in a way. Cornered. And we’ve got to fight.”
“And so you want me to point you to Sergeant Conta.”
“If you think he could help.”
“Maybe. He’d want to know a few things first.”
“Such as?”
“How you came to be here. Why there are four others of your party hiding in the woods. Why we should help two men from Longvale, who may or may not be spies.” The smile had vanished from the man’s face.
Silas gave a nod to acknowledge the man’s perception. “You seem to know more than you let on.�
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“A man can’t be too safe these days.”
“I take it we’re not truly alone out here.”
Now it was the man’s turn to give a nod of acknowledgment. “If I gave a signal, you’d both find arrows piercing your hearts.”
“You’re Sergeant Conta,” Darius stated.
“I prefer just Conta. My army days are in the past.”
“So are mine,” Darius told him. “And you’re right, I hail from and fought for Longvale. That was before this city was taken, if it matters.”
The man shrugged. “My guess is you had little choice in your service, so I’ll not hold that against you. So, we’re just two ex-soldiers. But it seems once you find the war, you’d be compelled to fight again.”
Darius looked at Silas, who nodded. “We’re not looking for the war as such. We’re looking for Orgoth.”
“Why?”
“We mean to take him down.”
Conta leaned back as if punched, his eyes growing wide, then he let out a long, slow whistle. Once he settled back down he laughed. “Didn’t take you for stupid.”
“Like I said,” Silas told him, “we’ve been backed into a corner of our own.”
“That’s one tight corner, if you intend to fight him.” He looked from Silas to Darius and back again. “You mean it. You’re either crazy or really, really desperate.”
Silas forced a smile. “Maybe a little of both.”
“All right. Here’s what I can tell you. The war is over, at least as far as Dalusia is concerned. Might be some small pockets of resistance, but you’ve won.”
“You’ll understand if we take no pleasure in that.”
“That makes all of us then. The Longvalers moved west, and apparently the fall of each city grew progressively worse.”
“What do you mean?”
“The savagery, the viciousness. Word is it got so bad, most of your army even drifted off when they could. But that didn’t slow down Orgoth. Why, there are even stories that…” The man looked away.
“What?”
Conta snorted out a short breath. “That certain…unnatural creatures started to aid Orgoth. Creatures not of this world. I know it sounds like tales meant to scare the kids, but many that told them… If you saw the way they looked, you wouldn’t dismiss the possibility.”
“We aren’t,” Silas said. “And we aren’t surprised to hear such a thing.”
“And you still want to go after him?”
“We have to.”
Conta shook his head. “Your life, your death. Thing is, I’m not sure he’s even in Dalusia anymore. Heard he headed south, probably back for home. Apparently all the plums in Dalusia have been picked.”
“We thought that might be the case. And he’s not the only one we need to deal with, so we need to go back to Longvale eventually. We’ll probably just stay on the road and return along the coast.”
Conta gave a dismissive wave. “Your path is yours to choose.” He leaned forward and steepled his fingers, his chin resting on his thumbs. “What about these four in the woods?”
“Two like us, from Longvale, the others Ice Elves from the north.”
“You are full of surprises,” Conta said with a laugh. “Never met an Ice Elf. I hear they can be pretty handy in a fight.”
Both men nodded. “We’ve seen firsthand evidence of that,” Darius said.
“Like to think it’ll help, but this Orgoth…” He shook his head and let his gaze fall upon the fire for a time. “Did you come here seeking anything other than information?”
“No,” Silas replied. “We’ve learned to fend fairly well for ourselves in terms of supplies, and it doesn’t appear that you have much to spare.”
“We don’t, tragically. I can’t even offer your group the very limited hospitality of a bed or even a roof, although you’re welcome to spend the night here, if you want.”
Silas gave a small nod of gratitude, but declined the offer. “Best we keep moving, with your permission.”
“That you don’t need,” Conta said with a wry smile. “You came here peacefully; you can go the same way. As far as I’m concerned, there is no Dalusia anymore, so we aren’t enemies. And if you intend to tackle Orgoth, I’ll wish you luck.”
“Then we’ll take our leave. Farewell.”
After they had gained enough distance that they thought they could whisper without being overheard, Darius asked, “Why’d you tell him which way and where we’re going? The fewer that know our plans, the better. Or are you thinking we’ll double back and try our luck to the west?”
“No, going south is our best approach. I told the truth because the eyes that saw us arrive will be watching us go, and we can’t be certain for how long. If we are caught in a lie…”
“Trouble,” Darius said with a nod.
Once in the wood they quickly recapped what they had learned for the others in hushed tones. Uesra, for one, wasn’t surprised that they were being watched. “I thought I noted some movement now and again in the deeper shadows. I was hoping it was just some animals, or my imagination.”
“You have an imagination?” Xanar asked.
Uesra smirked and elbowed him in the ribs.
The vote was unanimous to continue to follow the Coast Road and let it take them south. The journey to find Orgoth out west could be just as long or longer, and completely pointless if he was returning to Longvale or had already done so. They kept to the far side of the road as they passed Genola, feeling the eyes upon them and the thick tension in the air lest Conta and his group had a surprise planned. He gave them a quick wave and a grim smile as they passed, which was of dubious comfort. Only when the fires in the city were out of sight and all about them was silent did they feel they had truly been allowed to pass. Even so, each of them on watch that night paid special attention to the road behind them. When dawn came they considered any danger from Conta or Genola past, and focused instead on what was to come. That was more than enough to worry over.
* * *
Past Genola the Coast Road turned generally south. They had reached the deepest part of winter by the calendar, and though they were in the south of Corterra, Genola marked its northernmost point. The snow here could be deep, but luckily it wasn’t, and while heavy clouds often passed overhead and flurries danced about them, the big storms they feared did not materialize. There was little by way of shelter, so they set fires at night and used the flune when they had to. The knowledge that they moved south every day kept their discomfort from becoming misery.
For the most part they had the road to themselves, and on the rare occasion when they might see someone heading their way in the distance that person would move off the road and get out of sight as quickly as possible. In these days any group moving together was taken as a threat, and the companions understood they had little to gain from bothering to assure anyone of their lack of ill will. They simply moved on, sometimes able to see a frightened face watching anxiously from a stand of trees or over the edge of a ditch, and hoped the person they had surprised might soon resume their own journey and find more pleasant days.
Here and there they came upon small villages. Most were abandoned, many wrecked. Now and again some sign of life might be seen, a flash of movement, a falling curtain, but that same fear they sensed in lone travelers was almost palpable in the air, like a heavy odor. If the timing was right and no sign of life was apparent in a village they might spend the night sheltered from the wind, but if there was any sign of continued habitation they pressed on, leaving the hiding citizens unmolested.
The length of the Coast Road is hard to fathom unless traveled, and they were only covering a portion of it. From Genola going south, the next true city it touched was Old Bern, the capital of Longvale. That knowledge made their destination sound as if it were just around the corner, but the reality was that the road stretched over three hundred miles from Genola to the Dalusia-Longvale border, and over three hundred more before it struck Old Bern. They had ope
nly discussed these facts soon after they had left Genola behind, to prepare themselves for long marches and many more days and nights on the road.
It was on the eighth day out of Genola—not that the companions were aware of that fact, as the days started to flow together into one long memory—that they saw something unique before them. A large number of footprints crossed perpendicular to the road, moving from a swale on the eastern side to a wood on the western side. The tracks were left by humans, and were recently made.
As was their habit, they took sidelong glances into the woods but kept moving, feeling that if they slowed or stopped and actually searched for those who had left the tracks that they’d simply frighten them. Chances were that the locals were frightened already, and were even now watching the travelers pass and praying that they would just move on without pause.
Up ahead a child was hunched over in the middle of the road. As they approached they saw that the child’s back rose up and down in quick jerks, and came to understand that the youngster was crying.
Adrianna held up a hand, asking the others to stop, then went ahead alone. She approached with slow steps, hoping she wouldn’t startle the child. When Adrianna moved within about ten feet the child, still kneeling, pivoted and held up a doll, the body in one hand and the head in the other. She was perhaps eight years old, her hair cascading around her face in curls and ringlets gone flat from not having been washed for some time. Her pale face was smudged with dirt, which stood out even more against the white backdrop of the snow.
“My dolly’s broken,” she said, a fresh stream of tears pouring down her cheeks. Her look was as pathetic as any Adrianna had ever seen.
Adrianna dropped to one knee beside her. “Here, let me see. Maybe I can fix it.”
The girl gave the doll over without the slightest hesitation. As Adrianna’s eyes fell for an instant to study the broken toy, the girl rose and backed away quickly.
“I’m not going to hurt you, honey, I—”
From the shelter of the swale to the east and the wood to the west a band of people emerged. Everything about them spoke of hungry desperation. Most were lean and gaunt, their tattered clothes hanging loosely on their frames. They were armed with an assortment of common items—wood planks, tools, rocks, and anything else they could find that might make a useful club or projectile. There were around thirty in the group, men, women, and children. They quickly formed a loose ring around the companions, and then started to close with some trepidation. On most faces could be seen the fact that they did not want to do what they were doing, but were impelled to do so, whether by a strong-willed leader or sheer desperation. If any led the group they weren’t showing it, at least for the time being.