by Aldrea Alien
“We can gather supplies, maybe even find a way to get word to your king without travelling the full distance.”
Dylan slowly got to his feet, mindful that the elf could decide she’d rather have him dead. “I need to return to the tower.” Sidling to the dwarf’s side, he pointed at a dark, unnamed spot on the map. “There.” He glanced at the elf. “I’ll also require an escort.” He might be capable of making it across the kingdom on his own, but there was the added chance that doing so alone would make him a bigger target for the hounds.
Katarina nodded. “I can head that way with you if she cannot, but Toptower is still our first stop. I believe all that remains to be done here is find what we can salvage to barter with once we arrive.” She deftly folded the map and tucked it into her front pouch. “And perhaps, some introductions.” The dwarf held out her hand to the other woman. “I am Madam Katarina, hedgewitch of Dvärghem.”
The elf eyed the hedgewitch’s hand as if expecting it to burst forth with all manner of magic. Finally, she shook it. “Authril of Danny’s Cutthroats.”
Katarina tilted her head and a piece of her bun slithered free of its confines. “That sounds like a mercenary company.”
Authril nodded. “Sure is… Or was. About fifty of us signed up to push the bastards back after they took out our captain.” Those sea-green eyes slid his way. Rather than look less wary about him, her expression hardened. “I know what you are, spellster. What are you called?”
“Dylan,” he replied, not bothering to offer his hand. He rather doubted she would’ve shaken it anyway.
Her lips flattened. “Such an innocuous name for something so dangerous.”
His gaze dropped to her sword arm. Now the bones were healed, the woman grasped the hilt as if the blade was an extension of her hand. He wouldn’t be surprised to find she slept with it. “I’m not the only dangerous thing here.”
A smirk tugged at her lips. She jabbed the point of her sword in his direction. “Just you remember that, spellster.”
They spent the better part of the afternoon rifling through ashes and the dead in search of anything that could be of use in their journey to Toptower. The camp remains offered up little beyond what Authril had managed to scrape together in the large tent, which was one of the many things they would need to leave behind. Luck had gifted them with a single waterskin, but food was a seemingly elusive commodity.
Hopefully, their haul would be enough to boost their supplies as well as procure a more suitable canvas shelter in the village. The weather had been agreeable thus far in not dousing them, but he’d already had his taste of travelling in the rain on his journey down here. He didn’t fancy sleeping in it as well.
“Are we set?” Katarina enquired of them. Already, the woman carried one of the three small crude packs she’d fashioned from bits of canvas. She handed him another of the packs. “I would like to put this place a few hours behind us, just in case there are any Udynean stragglers.”
“Give me a moment and I will be,” the elf replied.
The muffled scrape of metal sliding over metal had Dylan turning as he secured the pack straps over his shoulders.
Authril was in the process of buckling her breastplate on. Smaller pieces of armour lay atop the shield resting at her feet. Apart from the helmet, the bits looked decidedly like they belonged on limbs.
“You’re bringing all that with you?”
The warrior arched a brow at him. “Well… yes?” She nudged several bits of armour with her boot. “I’m not planning on tramping through the forest in full plate if that’s what you’re thinking. I won’t slow us down. This…” The elf thumped her breastplate. “This’ll protect the important stuff if we’re attacked.” She moved on to donning her greaves. “The rest is all leather and padding. Danny liked us to be protected, but agile. After all, someone’s got to keep your innards where they should be.” The vambraces were next, followed swiftly by her sword belt and helmet. Those sea-green eyes glared at him from the shadow of the brim. “Or not, if you choose to cross us.”
“If that had ever been my intention, I wouldn’t have wasted energy healing you.” And he would need to conserve all he had left on the off chance that the hedgewitch was right about stragglers. Between the trek here, the healing and the shortage of food, he’d precious little left to give.
“You’ve still got enough in you to walk until sundown, though?” Authril asked as she shouldered the last of the packs and hefted her shield. “I’d rather not have to carry your soft arse through the forest because you’ve fainted.” Although she was of average height for an elf, around level with his shoulders, the addition of armour did little to bulk her appearance. Nevertheless, Dylan could well imagine her being capable of lifting him.
“I’m sure that won’t be necessary.” He was by no means as fit as either woman, but he could handle a few hours of walking before they made camp. From here, the road ran downhill. An easy task. It would flatten out before long, but the way forward would still be better than the forest floor he’d been stumbling over for the past two days. Sleep would see him capable of more come the next day.
“Good,” the warrior replied. “Because I’d like to get you back where you belong as quickly as possible.”
Katarina halted at his side, shrugging her pack into a more comfortable position. “Then we’d best be on our way if we’re to find a suitable place off the road to camp before sunset.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t think you have to push yourself.”
“I won’t hold us back.” The sooner he reached the tower, the sooner he’d be able to return and make the Udyneans pay.
Dylan turned from the woman towards the gap in the trees. The soft crunch of footsteps caught his ear as his travelling companions followed at a casual, but firm, pace. He forced his gaze to remain steadfast on the road as he strode though the camp. If he didn’t, then it wandered, settling on what he didn’t want to see.
The burnt remains weren’t as numerous here as at the fore. That meant more corpses like the ones back on the path. Only now, the birds had started appearing. He could see the flutter of piebald wings just on the edge of his vision, and above, the brown and white-speckled body of a falcon circled. Ignoring them was far harder than he’d expected. Each new movement tempted his eye and tricked his thoughts into courting the possibility of there being an impending threat.
Dylan took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. The stench he’d been carefully trying to avoid thinking about for the last few hours invaded his nostrils. Swallowing back the bile sliding up his throat, he pressed on. If the enemy was around, they wouldn’t bother with picking through the bloated bodies of the dead.
Their little trio were the only people alive out here.
Besides, Authril had said the Udyneans had headed west whereas their passage would take them on a comparatively easterly route. And once they’d reached Toptower, it was on to… Well, he couldn’t quite recall the place they’d passed through on his way down here, but he knew their first stop. He could consult the map once they’d arrived at the village.
They’d almost cleared the camp remains when a figure far larger than a mere bird emerged from the forest shadows.
Dylan halted, peering up ahead as the figure slowly became the more defined form of a horse and rider. Someone who had been away when the attack happened? One of the army’s messengers, perhaps?
On his left, Katarina gasped and dropped behind the shredded remains of a tent. At the same time, he caught the warrior reaching for her sword. Dylan didn’t waste time asking what their superior eyesight had seen, he flung himself next to the hedgewitch and threw up a barrier large enough to encompass them all.
Crouching, Authril motioned them to shift somewhere off to her left. “We need to find proper cover.”
“Don’t move,” Dylan muttered out the corner of his mouth. “I’ve got us shielded. It’ll keep us safe from mundane attacks, but if you take so much as single step back then yo
u risk being outside that protection.” It was possible for him to encompass them all whilst on the move, but not adequately enough for his liking. Staying in one spot afforded him the chance to keep the barrier large and strong.
The women rolled their eyes upward. Did they spot the faint ripple his defence caused in the air? It took some concentration to keep the usual translucent purple sheen from the barrier’s surface, but it appeared relatively invisible to his eyes.
Authril shook her head and slunk across the rubble to lie beside him. “We’ll be spotted if we stay here much longer.”
He frowned. If they moved, the rider would sight them far sooner. “It’s one man.” The three of them could handle a single attacker, even if that man turned out to be a spellster. Still, perhaps luck was on their side and it was an ally. Either way, they could certainly use the horse.
“No, it’s not.” Even as the hedgewitch spoke, other shapes emerged from the shadows.
Dylan’s hopes plummeted as he watched them advance. Man and woman alike, they wore the same armour as the scouts they’d evaded between the dwarven ruin and the front line. Even the rider was attired in the same mottled green and grey colours.
Seeing they weren’t moving, Authril further flattened herself on the ground. She peered around the rim of her shield to glare at the encroaching group only to duck back swearing under her breath. “Staying put is a really bad idea. What if they decide to wait us out? How long can you keep this barrier up?”
“Long enough,” he replied, unable to tear his gaze from the group. After everything he’d seen, everything he’d been through, he wasn’t about to let this lot walk away. Dylan scanned those surrounding the rider. There were more than the last scouting party. Nine in all. The rider had to be a spellster. He’d be harder to take down but, with Authril’s aid, not impossible. “Just be ready.”
The elf’s orange brows lowered in a definite scowl. “For what?”
Katarina clasped his shoulder before he could speak. “It seems we’ve been spotted.” Already, her dagger was out. He didn’t see what use it would be against these men.
The group hadn’t stopped, but they’d certainly slowed their pace. Those on foot chattered between themselves and the mounted man, one of them pointing in Dylan’s direction. Another nocked her bow and loosed an arrow.
The shaft hit Dylan’s barrier and shattered. Katarina flinched, pressing close to him. He caught Authril sucking in a hissing breath.
“Sir!” the woman called over her shoulder. “It’s another leashed one!”
The rider urged his mount closer. He leant forward in the saddle. Curious dark eyes peered at them from beneath a pair of thick brows. “Really? And here his lordship said he’d caught them all.”
Caught? Not slain outright like so many others, but taken to suffer a worse fate at the hands of these monsters. Did they mean all of the leashed spellsters? There’d supposedly been only thirty of them. Hard to believe every single one had succumbed to non-lethal attacks.
Dylan scanned those surrounding the rider, desperately hoping his original assumption was wrong. But no, he’d been right the first time, they were all Udynean. If any of the army’s leashed spellsters were still alive, then they were now on their way to the Udynea Empire’s slave market.
“If you drop your barrier,” the rider said, a little louder as he switched to speaking Demarn, “and surrender without quarrel, I guarantee your life will be spared.”
Authril answered him in a string of curses.
The man straightened in his saddle. “I don’t know why I bother.” The rider turned his horse away, waving his hand as if shooing a fly. “Kill the elf. It’ll be more trouble than it’s worth to capture it.”
“It?” Authril growled, clearly able to understand Udynean enough to know she’d been slighted. She sprang to her feet, keeping crouched even as she drew her sword, perhaps conscious of Dylan’s shield shimmering a few inches from her head. “Can I get through this blasted barrier?”
“I would think so,” Katarina replied when Dylan didn’t. “And you’d find yourself riddled with arrows the moment you do.”
Grunting, the warrior remained in place, waiting like the tower mousers would for their prey to near. “It,” she muttered under her breath. “I’ll show them it. You are planning to attack, aren’t you?” This question was also directed at him.
Dylan didn’t answer. All the pain and fear, the sense of helplessness, the anger… It boiled through his veins to charge the very air. It wasn’t enough for them to have already taken all these lives. They had to take everyone’s. All in the pursuit of another’s greed.
No more.
He raised his hands and focused everything he could spare on the advancing men. Bolts of lightning jumped from his fingers to strike them down. Their bodies jerked and flopped much like his opponents back in the tower. Unlike with his sparring partners of old, he didn’t stop his assault until smoke began to leak from their mouths.
Arrows bloomed around them, ricocheting off his barrier. A few made their way through the weaker points, albeit, sluggishly. By the time the fletching passed through, the arrows had lost all momentum.
This didn’t appear to be enough for Authril. She crouched behind her shield, dragging the hedgewitch down with her. “I thought you said this damn barrier would keep us safe?”
Dylan barely heard her. His focus was shattering, just like the first arrows. He allowed the two lifeless bodies to fall, waiting until his heart stopped hammering quite so hard before turning his attention to their remaining enemies. How many more could he take out before the barrier failed completely? Certainly not the whole seven.
His gaze swung to the rider. That man would be the greater threat to his companions. But taking on a Udynean spellster, one who was no doubt powerful and well rested, wouldn’t be easy if Dylan hadn’t spent the last few days tramping through the forest and healing people.
“Hold your fire!” the rider bellowed. “I want the leashed one alive! Let’s not have a repeat of last week’s attack.”
Dylan frowned. Last week? That’d been when he first arrived, when there’d been suspiciously few attacks. He would’ve recalled any mention of a spellster— The infirmary. One of the leashed ones had been amongst the scouts. She’d died from her injuries before the survivors could return to the front line.
They still think I’m leashed. And why not? Even in Udynea, where the infitialis collars were for slaves and prisoners, he doubted there were any reports of a leashed one removing their collar. And if they wanted him alive, that meant they’d target his companions, the warrior specifically if they were aware of Katarina’s hedgewitch status. He could use that knowledge to predict their actions. Like right now, the remaining six on foot were fanning out, looking to flank them.
He adjusted his shield, seeking to ensure every inch was strong enough to repel all weapons. His magic responded slowly, the barrier flickering with the threat of failing altogether. “We can’t let them draw this out,” he muttered over his shoulder. “I don’t think I’ve enough energy for much.”
“Understood,” Authril said as she got to her feet. “I’ve never fought beside a spellster. Do you have a plan?”
“Leave the rider to me. Concentrate on the others. When they get close, I’m dropping the barrier.” It wasn’t ideal, but he needed all the energy he could muster to be any match against the Udynean. “Be ready.”
“I am,” the elf replied.
“Where do I fit into this?” Katarina asked.
“You’re a hedgewitch.” And their enemies were close enough to make out her attire. “I can’t ask you to risk your life with this. It would be best if you found somewhere safe to wait this out.”
She mumbled something under her breath. Judging by the tone, it wasn’t civil. “They used my people’s ruins as bait,” the dwarf snarled. “I’m not hiding this time.”
“Then you better stay close to me,” Authril said.
Katarina gave t
he other woman a grim smile and drew her dagger. “Don’t worry about me. This isn’t my first fight.” She turned her attention to him. “Are you able to do that lightning trick again? Take out another few?”
He shook his head. If he’d had enough rest, then it’d be no different to the brawl in terms of strain, but now? “One, maybe.” Providing they fell swiftly. He’d need to conserve much of his energy for the rider and hope it was enough.
“Doesn’t matter,” Authril said as she bounced from foot to foot. “I’ll take them.”
The soldiers were close enough now for their bows to be cumbersome. They advanced with swords drawn.
“Now?” the warrior asked, the eagerness in her voice sharp enough to bite.
“Now.” He let the shield drop and aimed a fireball at the closest enemy, cursing as the woman dove out of the way. So much for that tactic. His attention swung to the rider. The man merely sat there, content to watch his lackeys fight.
Authril’s advance fared better. She ran at the group, screaming and sending the soldiers in all directions. Her blade sliced through the sword arm of one before her shield bashed in the woman’s face. This seemed to give the remaining three grounds to pause as they circled her like wary dogs.
Dylan frowned. He hastily counted the soldiers around the warrior. Four in all.
But hadn’t there been six left?
Movement danced on the edge of his vision. He turned his head, searching, when he spied another of Authril’s attackers lunging for her, aiming to attack the woman’s flank. Before a warning could pass his lips, the warrior had swung about to block her attacker. A few moments later and the man fell back, clutching at the slimy tubes spilling from his belly.
The rider straightened in his saddle and bellowed, “Oh, for—!” He kneed his mount towards them. Lightning shot from his hand in one enormous bolt.
Instinct had Dylan flinging up a shield between Authril and the rider. The barrier shuddered, but held against the onslaught. That was his cue. He prayed he’d enough left in him to defeat the man. Drawing in a deep breath, Dylan threw a fireball at the man, letting it explode ahead of the horse’s path.