Reckoning

by David Adams

  The companions pulled together into a circle of their own. They had yet to draw their weapons, had no interest in fighting these people.

  “Please don’t make us defend ourselves,” Silas said in a deep booming voice, a plea and a threat all at once.

  Someone threw a rock in reply, which Silas easily ducked.

  That action was enough for Darius and Barlow, who each drew their swords, hoping the sight of them would be enough to disperse the crowd.

  The sharp blades gave the locals a reason to hold, the dwindling circle they had created pausing in its collapse, as if the whole group was weighing the odds at the same time. Making a decision only the deepest need or despair could drive, they started in again.

  Adrianna started to cast a spell, and Xanar and Silas made their weapons visible as well, but Uesra said softly, “Wait a moment.”

  She stepped away from the others, and like the drawing of the weapons this action yielded a temporary hesitation from the closing mob. When they did so, she flung back the hood of her cloak and pulled her scimitars. The look on her face was not that of benign appraisal she often wore when confronted with a problem, but one of eager anticipation. Her eyes were wild with excitement, and as she turned her gaze from one member of the mob to the next, none could help looking away. She called back to the others, “Remember, you promised me the children were the best eating. If you lied, you will pay with your lives.”

  The mob froze as one, started to inch back. This was more than they bargained for.

  Silas worked off of Uesra’s play. “We would never lie to one as powerful as you, mistress. Here, I’ll get a sample for you to taste.” He took a couple of quick steps toward the crowd.

  The road was clear in an instant.

  “Didn’t know you had it in you, sis,” Xanar said, marveling at how quickly a crowd could disperse and vanish. The others added their appreciation of her solution to their latest problem.

  “I’m just glad it worked,” she said. “I was afraid we’d have to hurt someone to break through. We should move along, at a normal pace. If they’re watching, let them know we’re still in control.”

  They went on, unsurprised this particular group did not bother them again.

  * * *

  It hadn’t taken Praad long to pick up the trail of those who had had the gall to send the heads of the dark priests back to Old Bern as a message to his brother. That was how he viewed the act, a direct insult to Kaelesh, whether the sender knew it or not. Kaelesh, despite his best efforts to hide his feelings on the matter, felt the same way, and it had likely taken him some time to calm down and send Praad on the hunt rather than Orgoth. Kaelesh had always been the planner, and when anything interrupted these plans it perturbed him. Orgoth was almost all instinct, and he lived for and in the moment. Praad liked to think he was somewhere in between, and brought a nice balance that made the three of them so effective together.

  Kaelesh, as usual, had made the right choice. Praad was able to use his particular talents to find a link to the person who made the actual delivery, and as he moved northward he drew closer to the person truly responsible. As much as he could he was taking his time, the people now so easy to manipulate, so easy to push over the edge into utter grief and despair. He drank of their pain, felt the power of it, could never get enough to be truly sated, and so always felt a twinge of disappointment when his leads grew hot enough and Kaelesh’s requests for updates incessant enough that he had to move on.

  He was close now, having a name and his target’s general location. The name he kept to himself, not wanting to take the chance that Kaelesh might decide to send Orgoth to extract the penalty. Besides, the man led a transient group, and if nothing else Praad wanted to confirm his whereabouts and those of his companions before taking the risk that Kaelesh might recall him. It wouldn’t be much longer, and he knew Kaelesh’s patience would hold out another week or so.

  Praad saw a small village up ahead and smiled to himself. Now that he had a name, the questioning was easier, leaving him more time to enjoy himself. He saw a few people moving about with the downcast gazes and slumped shoulders now so common, people already broken or so close they only needed the slightest nudge to get there. Praad was an expert at giving such nudges. As soon as he learned what they knew of this Anton Yosh, he’d prove it once again.

  Chapter 11: The Rebel Camp

  For six days they had continued on the road without opposition, unless their anxieties and the weather were to be counted, and even those were far less of an obstacle than they could have been. But they knew such could not be the case forever, and as they drew within a few hours’ march of the border between Dalusia and Longvale, their unhindered passing came to an end.

  They were aware that the border itself might be guarded, especially here along a main road, had thought they might need to make their way around somehow if a force stationed there was strong enough. They were still far enough away from the line that they had yet to slow or send someone ahead as a scout, but they were being cautious. So they weren’t taken by complete surprise when an armed group emerged from the wooded hills on the western side of the road, stood across it, and called for them to halt.

  Between the men in the road and those easily visible in the trees, they outnumbered the companions more than three-to-one. They wore no uniform or insignia of any kind, but the way they moved, scanned the area, and held their weapons spoke of some military training. Their swords and bows they held in their hands, but, for now, with points down. The message was that they were in charge, but not yet delivering any threats.

  The companions wisely halted where they were and kept their own weapons visible but not drawn. Sensing no one behind themselves they fanned out, each an arm’s-length from the next in line. Silas pulled his hood down to show his face, and Darius did the same.

  It was actually the smallest of the men who stepped forward to speak, a man with quick, bright eyes that seemed to take in everything at once. “You’re nearing the border,” he said. “I’ll know your intentions.”

  “We mean to cross into Longvale,” Silas replied.

  “For what purpose?”

  Silas decided if these were Dalusians, they’d likely not object to travelers leaving, so the truth, for the most part, would suffice. “We are returning home.”

  “Soldiers?”

  “I was, once,” Darius answered.

  “And the rest?”

  “We did not serve in any army,” Silas answered. He thought to add, “Nor do we intend to,” but he wanted to share as little information as possible.

  “Why are you in Dalusia?”

  “We are only passing through.”

  A few of the men snickered at this. The leader silenced them with a wave of his hand, even as a smile curled his own lips. “So you were in the Far North?”

  Silas nodded.

  “You seem to get around a lot.”

  “We do what we must.”

  “And if I say you need to turn back?”

  “You appear to have the numbers to command us as such. But why would you turn us away?”

  “Not saying I am or that I will. Just wanted to see how badly you wanted to get home.”

  Now it was Silas’s turn to smile. “We very much desire such a thing. And there are other ways and roads into Longvale.”

  The man was not put off by this comment. “So there are, and perhaps unguarded. But if you wish to pass this way, I need to take you to Yosh.”

  “Who is Yosh?”

  “He can answer that, as he sees fit.”

  Silas shrugged. “So be it. Is he far?”

  “That I won’t reveal.”

  “We are in some haste,” Silas pointed out.

  “Isn’t everyone. Look, you can choose to come along with us, and Yosh’ll decide what to do with you, or you can go by another route. I suppose there’s a third option, but we’re being civil here so we won’t mention it.” He held his blade up, making a show of watching
it while he spun it by the hilt.

  “If we agree to come along, we won’t yield our weapons. I’m not ready to place us wholly under your power.”

  The man leaned back, exchanging a few words with one of his fellows. “Fair enough, but I’ll see you all before I’ll take you to Yosh, and you’ll be under heavy guard. Any move considered to be hostile…”

  “What do you mean by ‘I’ll see you all’?”

  He motioned with one finger at the side of his head. “The hoods. Off of the quiet ones.”

  Silas still didn’t have any idea where these men stood or what they were about. They didn’t strike him as thieves, and their seeming disinterest in the companions finding a different path into Longvale indicated they weren’t guarding Longvale’s borders, only this part of the road. Still, he hoped to move straight on, as any detour would require much time to go over or even around the Dragon’s Teeth—the mountain range to the east. If nothing else, revealing their faces would let them know he wasn’t lying about the Far North. He nodded for his friends to throw back their hoods.

  A ripple of murmurs went through the crowd of men. Their leader said, “My, you do get around,” while he rubbed the stubble on his chin.

  Silas saw a flicker of doubt in the man’s eyes, as if he were no longer sure of the outcome of a fight, if it came to that. “We have,” Silas confirmed, “and we’ve been through a lot. We’ve fought many foes, several of which were beyond anything we’ve seen here in the south. We’ve no quarrel with you, and don’t know this Yosh, but we need to pass through. We try to avoid fighting when we can, but we will do what we have to.”

  “In that we’re no different,” the man said, his voice neither appeasing nor overly forceful. The verbal sparring was settling into a draw. “If you’ll come with me to talk to Yosh, it might benefit us both. He might be persuaded to tell you what lies ahead of you. If you’ve been away, you’ll want to know what’s changed in Longvale.”

  “That would be useful, and appreciated,” Silas said. “Take us to him, and hopefully we’ll reach a swift accord.”

  The man made a signal to his forces, and their weapons were quickly sheathed. He and a dozen others escorted the companions off the road and to the west, while the remainder stayed behind to continue their vigil over the Coast Road. The leader allowed the companions to walk close behind him, while the others kept a respectful distance, not threatening any action but close enough to react if they had to.

  Just over a mile from the road they came to a small camp tucked into a small, wooded valley. Tents and cooking fires made it home, but nothing was so permanent that the whole thing couldn’t be moved on short notice. From the looks of things, the campsite was recently selected, and likely wouldn’t be occupied for long. Some forty men milled around, going about their business with ever-alert but tired faces. They looked to have been on the road for a long time, apparently on the run. Once the newcomers arrived, most stopped what they were doing and eyed them with interest that varied from open suspicion to outright surprise, obviously due to the presence of the elves.

  Their guide asked them to wait at the edge of the camp and went forward alone. Five minutes later he returned with a man who wore the haggard look of a general leading an army that was being constantly pressed and was losing the war, but his eyes retained a fire that reflected a spirit that refused to yield. He stepped before the companions and said, “I’m Anton Yosh. Welcome to my humble corner of the world.”

  After he and his friends had introduced themselves, Silas said, “Your men asked us to see you before they would allow us to continue our journey into Longvale. What is it you want of us?”

  Yosh couldn’t help smiling at Silas’s bid to take control of the conversation from the start. “Maybe just to see if we can help one another.”

  “Certainly an agreeable sentiment. How might we be at your service?”

  “That would depend on why you’re going to Longvale. What your intentions are once there.”

  “Surely going home is nothing new in the world.”

  “Not many Longvalers do so in the company if Ice Elves from the Far North.”

  “I’ll grant you that point.”

  “Tell me, Silas, are you the leader of this group?”

  “No. Unofficial spokesperson, if you like. We travel together by mutual agreement. Each of us can do as we see fit.”

  Yosh nodded and turned to Darius. “You were the one who fought for Longvale in the war?”

  Darius nodded. “That was some time ago.”

  “Why did you stop serving?”

  “I was given leave. When the time to return came…I had other priorities.”

  “Will you now rejoin?”

  Darius sighed, knowing they were coming to a tipping point in the conversation. “No. I suppose that makes me an outlaw of sorts.”

  Yosh smiled. “And gives us something in common. I was a captain at one time. No longer.”

  “Why did you leave?”

  “You’ve been away a long time,” Yosh replied, “otherwise you wouldn’t need to ask.”

  “We spent many months in the north,” Darius confirmed.

  “The war, with Dalusia and Westphalia, has ended as far as most are concerned. To be sure, what’s left of our army might still be ravaging Dalusia, but it is not war. It is slaughter, and sometimes worse. The war Longvale’s leaders are waging now appears to be against its own citizens. Whole towns destroyed for harboring soldiers who couldn’t stomach the vile behavior of our army any longer, villages burned for having a secret church. No one is safe, not even women and children, those we thought we were fighting to protect…” His voice cracked, and he took a moment to collect himself. “I can’t participate in that anymore, nor can I run from it and try to ignore it. In whatever way I can, I’m fighting it.”

  “Then we are of like mind. And nothing you have said surprises me. We believe that evil has infected Corterra, centered in Longvale. Landri’s actions are guided by others.”

  “Were. He is dead.”

  Darius mulled that over. “How did it happen?”

  “No one knows. There are whispers and rumors, some wilder than others. What I do know is that as bad as things were when he lived, they are worse now.”

  “Who rules Longvale in his stead?”

  “A council, although I believe they are puppets of a greater power. Several so-called dark priests have risen up and been wreaking havoc throughout Longvale, using foul magic to enforce the will of the new council. ‘Servants of the New Order’ they’ve dubbed themselves. I suspect many on the council are from this group, perhaps all of them.”

  “Landri’s advisor, Kaelesh. Do you know what’s become of him?”

  Yosh shook his head and smiled ruefully. “Been out of sight since Landri’s passing, but he’s still in Old Bern, I’ve heard. He’d be suspect number one for the real power behind the council in my mind. No one even knows where he came from, or how he suddenly was the one whispering in Landri’s ear.”

  Darius glanced at his friends and then said, “We might have some insight on where he came from.”

  “Tell me. I’d love to hear it.”

  By the time their story was ended, they were in Yosh’s tent, enjoying what meager food and drink he could offer. When they finished and he had asked the last of his questions, he said, “Please, give me a moment,” then paced around for several minutes while he tried to process this wealth of new information. Still pacing, he finally said, “So what are you planning to do?”

  “Go after the three of them,” Darius answered. He and Yosh had formed a quick bond as former soldiers, and while Yosh’s initial thought in forcing Darius to speak in place of Silas was just to establish his own control of the situation, and perhaps get a bit of added information through some slip of the tongue of someone less experienced in diplomacy, Yosh now turned to Darius with a degree of trust.

  “Not an easy task. Orgoth and his group have sacked fortified cities. The oth
er two are likely to be equally challenging.”

  “We have to try. Just like you’ve been doing.”

  “We didn’t really understand what we were dealing with.”

  “Now you do. Do you plan to stop fighting now? To run and hide?”

  Yosh met Darius’ eyes, and they understood one another. There had been no challenge in the questions. They both knew the answers. Suddenly Yosh smiled. “I have people like you brought in so I might seek recruits to join us. Now I’m wondering if the shoe isn’t on the other foot.”

  “We weren’t trying to raise up a force,” Darius replied.

  “Your help and that of your men would be welcome,” Uesra added. “But the larger our group gets, the more obvious a target we become.”

  “Agreed. We’ve tried to stay out of sight for the same reason, striking quickly when we do with small teams. Even so, as you can see, we’ve been forced further north to protect ourselves, and now we’re completely out of Longvale.”

  “What sort of missions does your group carry out?” Barlow asked.

  “We try to get involved when a village or town is being threatened, even a farm. Dark priests are targets where we find them. Soldiers only if they’ve gone past the ability to tell right from wrong.”

  “A difficult judgment for you to make.”

  Yosh nodded, but said, “But sometimes not so, unfortunately.”

  “What are you hoping to accomplish?” Darius asked.