by Eric Ugland
Then I headed to the armory to pick up some weapons, and then to the kitchen to get foodstuffs. When I had everything in my bag, I realized it was really damn early. So early that no one else who was coming on my quest was awake. I decided to walk around the holding. Or, more precisely, the singular city within my holding. But city? Village. Hamlet. Walled group of buildings.
The longhouses had been taken over by the healers. They were filled to the brim with injured soldiers. I thought about going inside — I even walked up to the doors, but I didn’t know what I would say. I’d just take up space. A lot of space.
Instead, I walked to the wall, climbed up, and stared out. There was a low mist hanging above the grassy fields. The moons were dipping towards the horizon, the first one already below. True dark was coming, though it would probably be pretty short.
Nothing moved outside Coggeshall. It was stillness. I felt someone coming closer to me inside the walls, though. Someone who probably thought he was sneaking up on me. I didn’t turn around to see, but I kept my inner-eye on my tremorsense, ‘watching’ as the person came up the stairs and stood slightly to the left and behind me.
“See anything?” came a familiar if weak voice.
Nikolai had sidled up to me.
“Mist,” I replied.
“You are heading out there shortly,” Nikolai said.
“That’s true,” I replied. “On the hunt.”
“It is for a good cause.”
“We’re deciding the morality of it, Nikolai. Of course we’re going to say it’s good.”
“You think these Corrupt monsters would do anything positive to the world?”
“Maybe? I don’t know. It’s just unsettling to basically go out and commit genocide because some sparkly goddess told me to. Why are you still awake, anyway?”
“There seems to an endless series of tasks to handle,” he said. “Plenty of dead bodies to police, for one.”
“Do we need to build a graveyard?”
“How much do you know about the dead here?”
“I’ve caused a fair amount of them.”
“But have you ever seen what happens after death?”
“I’m assuming you’re about to tell me it’s a whole lot more than just rotting and putrefaction?”
“A large amount of dead tends to attract the undead.”
“Okay, so graveyards are a bad idea.”
“Was that what I said?”
“No, but—”
“Graveyards have their place. We are not in a good position to have one at present.”
“So what do we do with the bodies?”
“Burned. The ashes are being put to use in the underground farms.”
“Gross. But that’s farming, right?”
“From what I know, yes.”
“Is someone handling the Corrupt dead out there?” I asked, pointing out to where the last fight had taken place.
“Yes. There are twenty dwarves out there right now, with ten Legionnaires as guards.”
I nodded. “Seems safe.”
“As much as it might be in this situation.”
“What happened with the Thingmen?”
“We paid the price for Caticorix having numbers over us.”
“Even though the Thingmen were better?”
“Even though. We pushed them back, made sure the mercenaries are not likely to take another contract with Caticorix. But it was not without loss.”
“Should I—”
“Montana of Coggeshall, I am not one hundred percent sure what it is you are about to say, but I have a sense you are going to ask me about the soldiers. About their lives and if it was worth it. You need to understand that these men and women volunteered to be a part of a fighting force, and, more than many, these men and women understood their own mortality. What they might face in their chosen life. You need to be able to make the decision to send soldiers to their death if it is going to save the holding. You cannot only put yourself in danger. Time will come you cannot overcome the evil you seek the vanquish just by yourself.”
“Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
“No. It does not. You should not like it, but you should understand it. And honor the sacrifice these people made for you and yours.”
I nodded.
“Have you gotten any sleep?” I asked.
“No,” he replied.
“You should.”
“I will,” he said quietly. “There will be time enough for sleep at some point.”
“Just make sure you’re taking care of yourself,” I said.
“I imagine things might slow down when you are away.”
“You saying I make things crazy here?”
“You tend to, yes. Have you determined who is going with you?”
“I was thinking my hirð.”
“Excluding me?”
“Yeah, I don’t feel like carrying you this whole trip,” I said with a smile.
He gave me a wry grin, almost like he appreciated the joke. Which would have been a first.
“I would imagine you are planning to seek a guide from amongst the ursus here?”
“Of course,” I lied.
“And the cleric?”
“If he’s up for it. And maybe a ranger.”
“Amber?”
“She’s the only one we have at present, right?”
“Sadly, yes.”
“Sadly?”
“If you take her, it means we are without.”
“So recruit one from Osterstadt.”
“Easier said than—”
“Use the damn coin we have,” I said. “The treasury is overflowing. Use it.”
“It is—”
“Stop. Okay? Stop. I don’t want to hear that we need to save money for a rainy day, because if you haven’t noticed, it’s starting to snow here, okay? So, duke’s order: spend some gold to fix this place up before I get back.”
“Yes, your grace, though—”
“Are you about to say something to contradict me? Maybe point out that we might need to have gold later to spend it on mercenaries to protect us from our own Empire?”
“Perhaps I was, yes.”
“I don’t want to hear it. I want to spend the gold to fix some of the nonsense here now, okay?”
“Yes, your grace.”
“And fix yourself up. You’re a goddamn mess lately, Nikolai. I didn’t want to say it because you’ve been under a lot of pressure, but I’m pretty fucking tired of all your bullshit. I know it’s shitty to have all your powers and whatever sucked out of you and have to start back at the bottom, especially when you were such a badass before. I get it. I haven’t said anything for the past few months because of it, but you suck at your job. Not just mentoring me, but getting this holding off the ground. Most of it’s your damn attitude.”
“You pompous sack of shit,” Nikolai retorted, “I—”
I held up a finger to his face, and I made sure he looked at it, then at my eyes to realize I was not done talking.
“Shut up, Nikolai,” I said. “Right now, you’re waiting. You’re listening. I’m in charge, whether you like it or not. You’ve sworn to me twice, and to Benedict Coggeshall once, that you’ll follow me. Got it?”
His thin lips and the vein pulsing on his forehead said he wasn’t happy, but his very slight nod said he was willing to listen.
“You’ve been an asshole to me, which is fine. You’ve been a dick to me, fine again. Most of the time I deserve it. But people here are getting confused because you tell them I’m the duke, and then you treat me like I’m a bootlicker. You mope about. You whine and moan about shit. You don’t do anything, you complain, you keep saying we need to save everything for later, and it’s gotten shitty here because of that. Everyone else is pitching in, trying to make Coggeshall not just a place to hide from the world, but a god-damn home. So while I’m gone, you need to decide what you want to do. If you want to be a whiny no-good, rotten, four-flushing, low-life, s
nake-licking, dirt-eating, inbred, overstuffed, underwhelming, bloodsucking, dog-kissing, brainless, bug-eyed, stiff-legged, spotty-lipped, worm-headed asswipe dickburger sack of monkey shit in a too-tight suit that doesn’t match your shoes who curses the world for everything that’s gone wrong and hates life because it’s not what it once was, well, that’s fine. We’ll build you a porch up nice and high where we don’t have to listen to you scream unintelligible obscenities at everyone for walking on the green fucking grass and feeling a little joy in this goddamn shit-fucked world full of monsters, death, and non-stop violence where I fucking found myself a goddamn duke whether I wanted to or not and you made sure I couldn’t say no, you sodden dingleberry hanging off the wrong end of a dysenteric water-buffalo! Hallelujah! Holy Shit!” I had to pause to take a breath. “Otherwise, pull yourself up by the jockstrap, get your big gloomy mood out of your face, and pitch the goddamn fuck into making this place an actual home for everyone involved. It doesn’t have to be a fortress of solitude and pain out in the middle of fucking nowhere, Nikolai.”
The wind blew between us.
“Been sitting on that a while?” he asked.
“Just a bit,” I replied. “You disagree?”
“Little heavy on the insults in the middle there,” he said. “But I suppose you might have a few salient points.”
I pulled off the prinky charm, and I pressed it into Nikolai’s hands.
“I don’t have a use for this on the quest,” I said. “But I think you can put these guys to work here. Still have your Mana?”
“I’ve got some.”
“Use it,” I said. “Use things, man. Get this place into gear. Make sure it’s somewhere people can be proud of, call home. That’s the only way they’re all going to fight for it.”
He nodded, then I walked away. I didn’t know what else to say. I’d done as much as I could to kick him in the pants. He had to take himself the rest of the way, and I was all out of trite platitudes anyway.
Chapter Four
In between yelling at Nikolai and sunrise, I did some more logistical nonsense, packing gear and making sure we had everything we needed. Tarryn was pretty messed up, exhausted from overusing magic the day before, but he wasn’t willing to sit things out. The two Lutra were raring to go, after a massive breakfast that is. It was a bit harder to convince Meikeljan to come with us, but I pointed out it was absolutely what his god had told me to do, so it probably wouldn’t go over well if he bailed on us. Amber was pumped to go with us, at least as pumped as she ever really got in public.
I went to have a chat with Borin. I figured it would make sense to have an ursus guide on the hunt. And it seemed Borin had the same thought, since he had someone already ready: a big ol’ bear. Which wasn’t exactly true — it was a small bear-person named, oddly, Wulf. Wulf was full-grown, but actually a little shorter than me. He had an intense face, slightly squinty eyes, and dark fur with shoots of grey going through it. And a raspy voice. Like, unexpectedly deep. Even for a bear-man.
“We were talking over things,” Borin said, “and our best guess is one of the winter valleys.”
“What’s a winter valley?” I asked.
“It is a valley where we spend the winters.”
“Oh. Yeah. I mean, when you put it like that, it’s pretty obvious.”
“Is there a way to put it where it might not be obvious?” Wulf asked dryly.
“Wulf,” Borin reprimanded him with just the one word. “There is a valley that has been used in times past for religious ceremonies. I believe, and Wulf concurs, that you will find the corrupted ones there, either licking their wounds or doing whatever it is they are planning to do.”
“Got it, winter valley,” I said.
“The Valley of Spears,” Borin corrected.
“Sounds delightful.”
“It is full of fog due to hot springs. And tall trees.”
“Spear-like?”
“Yes.”
“And you know the way there, Wulf?” I asked.
“I know of one way there, yes,” Wulf said, “but I have not taken the whole path myself.”
“Regardless, glad to have you aboard,” I said. “Lead on.”
He did not look happy to be aboard the quest-cruise. But then again, I’d yet to see an ursus look happy. They didn’t really smile often. Or maybe they did and I just didn’t recognize it.
There was no fanfare when we left. As the gates shut behind us with an ominous thud, it felt kind of like we’d just been tossed unceremoniously out of the one safe space in the area, having to fend for ourselves against the wolves and whatnot. The ground was muddy, and the wind blew cold across the mountains. I felt like snow was in the clouds. I missed The Weather Channel. What I wouldn’t have given for a five-day forecast.
Amber led the way. Followed, naturally, by a babbling Ragnar who was still fully committed to getting the kitsune-girl to like him. Skeld was next, then Tarryn and Meikeljan in the middle, followed by our guide Wulf, and finally myself, bringing up the rear. I had contemplated going first, but being the biggest in the group meant that no one else would really be able to see around me.
We made the short walk through open fields, and then we slogged through the forest. There was no pausing for educational opportunities, no one calling out the names of the song birds as we heard them, no one picking flowers or mushrooms or root vegetables. It was a very different experience from my other treks, as everyone, save the ever-loquacious Ragnar, was more pulled into themselves. Focused on their footsteps, and, hopefully, the larger world around them. Which was no small task, considering how tight the forest grew. The trees were huge, and their canopies spread wide. But because the first branches were sometimes fifty-plus feet off the ground, there was some pretty impressive ground cover. Ferns were everywhere, growing tall and wide, enough that we’d cut through one only to discover the fern was hiding a fallen tree twenty feet around.
After a long way, Wulf threw down his walking stick and stopped.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“Why go this way?” he snapped. “This way is stupid.”
“You’re the guide,” I said. “You tell us where to go.”
“We follow the river,” he snapped. I’m not an expert on Ursus emotions, nor on reading the bear-face, but I got the feeling Wulf might be angry. It made me wonder if Borin might have sent Wulf with us because the dude was a bit of an asshole. I hoped I’d get the chance to ask him.
“Okay then, let’s get to the river,” I said.
“Where is the river, you think?” the guide snidely asked.
I listened to the woods, but heard nothing. Guessing, I pointed to the left, then quickly changed to the right.
Amber chuckled, then she nodded.
“Fine,” Wulf said. “We go to the river. Easier to walk that way.”
Then Wulf stomped off.
“Pleasant one,” Skeld said as he walked by.
I just shrugged, hoping this wasn’t a sign of things to come.
Following the river was indeed easier. I wasn’t exactly sure why Amber had chosen the woodsier direction. I strode up to the front to ask her, but just as I got there she put her hand up in the danger signal. Then she indicated all of us should take cover.
I frowned, but did as she asked, huddling like a coward in the big ol’ ferns. Then I saw why Amber had us hold up.
Something massive was moving on the other side of the river, crunching along through the heavy vegetation, straight up pushing trees out of the way.
Even though it didn’t come all the way through the foliage, I caught sight of a few things I figured had to be horns. The thing crashed along, clearly unconcerned about much of anything seeing it or hearing or doing anything about it. It was lord of the forest, at least as far as it was concerned.
We stayed there in the ferns until the noises of the little critters returned, and then we were back on the trail. Or lack of trail. To the rest of the critters, we were probably the on
es crashing along through the woods.
I’d been holding my shit together, for the most part, until the big crashing thing came along. Then I couldn’t help but think about the last time I’d seen something big and bad in the woods. The creature that had ripped my leg off, the one that had forced me to retreat with my proverbial tail between my legs. That thing was still around in the forest. Unless it had just stalked by on the other side of the river. But the leg-ripper was quiet, not a crasher. Pretty sure the crasher was a different beast all together. Maybe the big crashing thing had taken out the leg-ripper, but I couldn’t be sure.
And I can’t say exactly why, or how it worked with my skill that was supposed to make me unafraid, but walking along, I could feel something looking at me. I felt it on the back of my neck, that someone was sneaking up behind me, about to pounce.
I spun around, weapon pulled out and ready to fight.
Everyone stopped, and followed suit.
We all stood there, ready to fight.
But there was nothing there.
I caught my breath, feeling like an idiot.
“Sorry,” I said. “Jumpy.”
No one said anything, but I caught a few looks. Then we started walking again, pushing through the thick trees, forging a path. I took some deep breaths, trying to regain my sense of calm.
It didn’t happen.
Chapter Five
We ended the first day by sleeping up in a tree. Which, you know, not that bad a way to sleep, really. The gentle swaying was relaxing. And we’d prepared a bit more for it this time, with hammocks and sleep belts to keep us attached to branches. Cold as fuck, but, well, you win some.
We ate trail rations (cold) for breakfast. You can’t exactly have a fire in a tree. Well, I suppose you could, but only once. Then we were on the move again.