Moz grinned. “If you’re making more of those biscuits, I might just take you up on that offer.”
She hugged him and Moz marched out of the house. Time to collect his horses and prisoner and get back on track. After this, his desire to see the Dark Sages dealt with had gone up a notch. The bastards were nothing but trouble so far that he’d seen. No way could he let them get away with doing whatever they wanted without regard to the consequences.
A few people on their way to work on the gate waved to him as he passed. The settlement’s stable was little more than a long, open shed filled with hay. Moz and the bandit’s horses kept two mules and a donkey company. Their saddles sat in a corner on a neat tarp. It took twenty minutes to get both mounts ready.
The prison shed was on the opposite side of the village from the stable. When Moz arrived, he found his prisoner resting with his back against the wall, an empty plate on the ground beside him.
“So you’ve been fed, good. It’s time to get moving.”
“Can’t say I’m looking forward to traveling no man’s land, but anything’s better than another day in this shack.”
“Give me any trouble and I’ll make you wish you were still locked in the shed. I killed El-Kalim, I doubt a rat like you will be a problem. Now hold still.”
Moz unlocked Alva’s shackle and left the key in the lock. He left the former bandit’s arms manacled, it was tricky since one of his hands was gone, but Moz tightened one enough that it bit into the flesh of his forearm and wouldn’t come loose. After a short walk to his horse, a bit of heaving got him mounted before Moz swung up into his own saddle.
Everyone waved as they passed through the gate. Some of the damage had already been repaired. Outside, all the bodies were gone, burned up on a single pyre. Good riddance to all of them. The area would be safer without the bandits.
There’d be more of course. There were always desperate people willing to take rather than work for their scale. At this point, Moz no longer gave that unpleasant truth more than a passing thought. Bandits were like rats. You killed them when you saw them, but you never forgot that plenty more were hiding in the shadows.
They rode silently through the morning sunlight. Moz was relaxed, happy to be back on the trail. When they reached the main road he asked, “Which way?”
“North and a little east,” Alva said. “A good three days if we ride hard and don’t run into any… problems.”
There were plenty of problems in no man’s land, but contrary to popular belief, the land wasn’t crawling with monsters. And what there were could be avoided if you knew how. Knowing how was part of Moz’s training.
They should be fine.
Chapter 17
As they rode out of Port Steel, Yaz could barely keep his emotions contained. He could feel them pounding on the door in his mind trying to get out. Now that Brigid was safe, Wrath’s black ice had begun to melt. Eager as he was to return to normal, Yaz knew he wouldn’t be worth much once those emotions struck. He’d be overwhelmed, reduced to little more than a blubbering heap. It always went that way when he forced his emotions to do what he wanted but he’d pay the price gladly to have Brigid back.
He glanced over his shoulder at the rapidly diminishing city. If he never had to visit the wretched place again it would be too soon. The stink, the evil, and the mass of humanity were too much for him. He preferred the quiet of the forest or library.
“Where to now?” Silas asked.
“As far away from the city as we can get before dark,” Yaz said. “Did you get all the supplies we needed?”
“Yeah, no problem,” Silas said. “There was a merchant right next to the stables that specialized in travel supplies. I think he must have a deal with the stable master. Still, the prices weren’t that bad and he had everything we wanted. We should be set for a couple weeks.”
The group fell silent as they rode past a line of three heavily laden merchant wagons. The caravan guards fingered their weapons and gave them long looks as they rode past, but otherwise made no moves to bother them.
When they were alone on the road again Brigid asked, “Did you figure out where my parents are?”
“Haven’t had a chance,” Yaz said. “I’m not familiar with the names, but I’m sure we can find the farms easily enough if we ask around.”
Yaz made no mention of the fact that his own parents appeared nowhere in the records. There’d be time enough to deal with that later. And if he was honest, he just didn’t want to think about where they might have ended up. No one would have a warrior like his father or a sage like his mother working on a farm.
They rode for the rest of the day in silence. No one seemed to know what to say. The craziness of the past two days had left them overwhelmed. At least Yaz felt overwhelmed. He wanted to sleep for a week, not that he had the time to spare.
Wrath had shrunk to about half his earlier size and the anger that had driven him faded to a dull burn in the back of his mind. Part of him wanted the guild master to suffer, but it was a much smaller part now. Small enough that he had a firm grip on it and no fear of being overwhelmed again.
Half an hour before sunset, Silas led them off the side of the road and down a narrow deer trail that ended beside a shallow brook. They tended their horses and tied them up near a patch of lush, green grass at the edge of a clearing. The clean smell of the forest and the babbling of the brook soothed Yaz’s ragged nerves.
Silas glanced at Brigid and Yaz. “I’m going to go collect firewood.”
He took Wicked out of the pouch at his side and stomped off into the nearby woods, the little undead floating at his shoulder. For someone who’d been traveling alone before meeting up with Brigid and Yaz, Silas had a good sense of how to deal with people, a better sense than Yaz had ever had, that was for sure. If the two of them ever needed some time alone, this was it.
He slumped on his saddle and braced himself to open the door. Brigid settled beside him and said, “Tell me about it.”
“Are you sure you want to hear everything?” he asked.
“I think I need to,” Brigid said.
Yaz nodded. In his mind, a little more of the black ice melted. Hopefully, he could ease his emotions out as he told the story. That should make it a little less overwhelming.
Yaz spoke hesitantly at first, not certain how to begin. Sentence by sentence he got stronger. When he reached the part about what he did to the guild master’s family, tears ran freely down his face. Brigid stroked his hair and whispered words of reassurance.
The last of the ice shattered and fell away. His emotions came rushing out and for a few seconds he was unable to speak.
When he got himself under control, he cleared his throat and continued. Yaz finished at the moment he stepped into the little basement room where they’d held Brigid captive. “And you know the rest. I’m not proud of what I did,” he said. “But if I had to, I would do it again without a second thought.”
“What did you say to him? You know, right before we left,” Brigid asked.
“When he threatened us with a new bounty,” Yaz said. “I told him if he did that, I’d come back and make him wish that I had burned his family to death. I’d just as soon not give you the exact details of what I suggested. Suffice it to say I’m confident he won’t be putting a new bounty on our heads.”
“I’m sorry I made you do all that,” Brigid said. “If I hadn’t gotten captured…”
Yaz reached up and squeezed her hand. “You didn’t make me do anything. I had already lost so much, the thought of losing you drove me over the edge. For the two days you were a prisoner, I think it’s fair to say I wasn’t really myself.”
“Well.” Brigid leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. “You seem to be back to normal now. Let’s see if we can keep it that way.”
Yaz hoped he’d be able to grant her request, but deep down, a small piece of him wondered if Wrath wasn’t closer to his true personality. He hoped not but he couldn’t dismiss t
he possibility.
When Silas emerged from the forest with an armload of dry branches, Yaz had himself under control and his tears dried. The wizard dumped his load, made a little pile of the smallest sticks, and snapped his fingers. A tiny lightning bolt leapt out and struck the wood, setting it instantly ablaze.
“You two get everything straightened out?” Silas asked.
Yaz sat up and nodded. “I’m good, thanks. While dinner’s cooking, I’m going to take a closer look at the information I found.”
“I thought you remembered everything,” Brigid said.
“I do, but I didn’t read the ledger, I just looked at the pages, so what I remember is an image of the words not their meaning.”
Brigid shook her head. “I don’t get it, but as long as you know what you’re talking about, that’s all that matters. I’ll get the stew going. You do whatever you need to do.”
Yaz closed his eyes and entered his mental library. Since it was among his most recent memories, it didn’t take long to find the ledger. His emotions had all vanished along with the hidden door. That was a relief. Their absence proved to him that he was under control, at least for the moment. They’d become visible again the next time he got upset, but for now he was content to enjoy the quiet.
He opened the ledger and scanned the listings, more for the buyer than the names of who was sold. Most were sold singly or in pairs. The farmers were sold as general labor and those with skills went to people with need for them. The second largest block was the sages. They all went to the same buyer, a book dealer in the capital. Slaves that could read and write were probably a great find for him.
The largest block was the one that interested Yaz right now. Thirty laborers sold to a merchant collective called Alchemy Supplies. That would be the place to start. Though he knew he wouldn’t find them, Yaz spent a few minutes searching carefully for his parents, but as he expected there was no sign of their names.
He sighed and blinked a second time. A pot bubbled over the fire and a savory scent filled the air. “I know where we need to go first.”
“Where?” Brigid asked.
“Alchemy Supplies’ main office. They bought twenty of our people. Someone at the office will know where they’re working.”
“Why start there?” Silas asked.
“Simple, I know where it is. They bought over half of the village’s dragon scales. Someone came twice a year to pick them up.”
“What about my parents?” Brigid asked. Her whole body trembled when she spoke. It was the most emotion he’d seen from her in a while.
“They were sold to separate farms well to the southwest. I know you want to get them as soon as possible, believe me I do, but we need to grab the biggest groups first. Once word gets out about what we’re doing, the harder it will be to free everyone. Getting one person from a small farm will be easier than breaking into a place like Alchemy Supplies.”
She nodded, clearly not happy, but hopefully willing to accept his plan.
“Think they’ll remember you at the alchemy place?” Silas asked.
“Maybe, but if they don’t turn our people over, they’ll remember me when I’m done.”
Brigid gave him a sideways look and Yaz sighed. Maybe Wrath was still a little out of control. At least that’s what he wanted to think, but the truth was, the threats came so easily now he hardly had to think about them. The thought of bashing someone over the head and breaking a leg didn’t bother him much, and it should. Deep inside he knew that. Being determined was fine, but he had to be careful not to turn in to someone he didn’t want to be.
“Don’t worry,” Yaz said. “I’m not going to kill anyone. But it has become painfully clear that if you want someone to do as you say, aggressive persuasion is sometimes necessary.”
“I understand,” Brigid said. “It’s just that sometimes it feels like things have gotten completely out of control.”
“If you think things are out of control now,” Silas said. “Wait until word gets out that you’re running around freeing slaves. You’re fighting against an institution that is hundreds of years old, and an ingrained part of the kingdom’s history. No one is going to accept that lying down.”
Yaz had never thought about it that way. What he saw as freeing his family, friends, and the people of his village, the slaver owners saw as having their property stolen and their livelihoods threatened. Of course they were going to fight back and resist as best they could. But that wasn’t going to stop him. One way or another, Yaz would see his family and his people free.
Chapter 18
No man’s land was a band of wilderness to the east of Rend and Carttoom and south of the freeholds. The area teemed with wildlife, some of it wilder than others and some of it not entirely of natural origin. Given the wealth of timber and minerals in the foothills, both kingdoms had tried to tame the rugged land and both had failed miserably. Rend had sent a full legion to carve a foothold. Fifty survivors had returned three weeks later with tales that would curl your hair. The current king had written the area off after that, wisely in Moz’s opinion.
And now Moz found himself traveling through the area with only a bandit for company. After three days of traveling together, he and Alva had settled in to a somewhat comfortable rhythm. The former bandit and current prisoner made no moves to try and escape and in return, Moz didn’t tie him to a tree every night. It was a decent system given what Moz had to work with. Not that he slept deeply or well, but at least he slept.
Traveling with a prisoner was one of the rare times Moz would have liked a partner. No man’s land did a fine job all on its own of keeping Alva close and well behaved. Only an idiot would risk traveling with no weapons, no armor, and alone in the monster-haunted region.
In the last two days they already had to make wide detours around a pack of terror birds and a saber-fanged tiger. Neither of the creatures had noticed them for which Moz was grateful. Fighting half a dozen thousand-pound flightless birds with beaks like axes was only moderately less daunting than fighting a two-ton tiger with foot-long teeth like swords. Surviving a bandit war only to get killed by a random predator would have been too pathetic for words.
“Are we getting close?” Moz asked.
“Should be,” Alva said. “Like I told you before, I’ve only been here a couple times and always with an escort. Are you sure you don’t want to just turn around? I’m happy to take my chances in prison rather than with the local wildlife.”
“You’re a murderer, Alva. It’s the rope for you, not a cell.”
“Well, why should I keep helping you if I’m going to die anyway?”
“Because hanging is a better way to die than getting staked out for the terror birds.”
“You make a compelling point. If we make it through this and back to Rend, can’t you at least put in a good word for me?”
“Fine, but only if you shut up about anything not related to our mission or a question I ask.”
“Deal.” Alva grinned like a good word from Moz was likely to keep him from hanging. “If we keep on this bearing, I think we’ll be within sight of the fortress by the end of the day. You don’t want to get too close. They cleared an area a half a mile across all around it to keep anyone or anything from getting too near unnoticed.”
Moz only half heard him. There was something weird in the sky. A big, fluffy white cloud was flying against the wind. It was miles distant but impossible not to notice. Why would a cloud be flying against the wind? It wasn’t possible, not without magic. And why would you use magic to do something like that anyway?
“See that cloud?” Moz pointed.
Alva squinted. “I see a cloud. What about it?”
“It’s moving against the wind.”
“No, it’s not moving at all.”
Moz frowned. He was right. The cloud had stopped dead in the sky while every other cloud continued on its merry way.
“Gods’ blood!” The crazy thing started slowly falling out of the
sky. Moz had seen some weird things in his travels, but this took the cake. “What’s over there? Looks close to the mountains.”
Alva stared then looked left and right. Finally, he snapped his fingers. “The old imperial capital. I remember one of the Dark Sage guys mentioning the ruins were off that way. All sorts of strange things over there. That cloud probably got caught in some old magic or other.”
Moz nodded. He’d heard stories of the former capital. It was supposed to be a death trap. Alva was probably right, though why, by all the watching gods, anyone would want to pull a cloud out of the sky he couldn’t begin to guess. Probably why he was a ranger and not a wizard.
Whatever it was, it had nothing to do with his current mission. Moz put the cloud out of his mind and urged his mount into motion. The trees were thin enough to allow them easy passage and the scent of evergreen made a nice change from fire and death back at the settlement.
It was nearly sunset when Moz reined in a few yards from the edge of the woods. As promised, a tall fortress of black stone surrounded by a wall built of the same material dominated a massive clearing. A rough road ran east to west thirty yards from the main gate. Once upon a time that road had probably been an imperial highway that connected the capital to the eastern provinces. Time and weather hadn’t done it any good.
“So what now?” Alva asked. “You’ve seen the place. Can we get out of here?”
“Hardly. We’ll make a cold camp tonight and begin surveillance tomorrow.”
“Surveillance? For how long?”
“Until I’m satisfied or we get low on supplies.”
Moz urged his horse back into the woods. They’d set up a quarter mile or so from the edge of the woods. A few days to a week should give him some idea of what was going on out here. And if a visitor should come with a weak guard, well, a little interrogation might not go amiss either.
Moz had been watching the road for a little over an hour when the first visitors arrived. Far sooner than Moz expected and from the wrong direction. A small party of four appeared riding out of the west – the same direction as the capital and where Moz saw the weird cloud. It was probably a coincidence, but Moz didn’t believe in coincidences. Whether it was important or not was a whole other question. Pity he didn’t have a spyglass. But even without one it was clear the group was dressed in Dark Sage black robes.
The Dragons' Graveyard: The Dragonspire Chronicles Book 3 Page 13