by AC Cobble
The last time they’d passed through this area, it hadn’t been so cold. A month had passed. A month since he’d had a hot bath or decent mug of ale. Free State wasn’t exactly ideal, but the place did have roofs and beds. If they could find Perkins again, it had ale. He could use a tall one.
The next morning, blue sky filled the horizon above the trees and a brilliant yellow sun warmed their backs as they set out again. The air was cold, and the ankle-deep snow made hiking a bit more difficult, but compared to where they had been, it felt good. Ben breathed in deeply and felt the chill air fill his lungs.
Exhaling, he asked, “Should we stop in Free State?”
They would arrive midmorning, if what they recalled from the surrounding landscape was correct. A lot had happened since then.
“No,” replied Towaal, shaking her head.
“We’re almost at the point of collapse,” argued Corinne tiredly. “And, not to be rude, but you are worse than the rest of us. You can barely keep your head up.”
“We keep moving,” stated Towaal. “If we stop, that will delay us another night to Skarston and another night to Northport. We can’t afford any delays.”
“Remember what’s behind us,” added Rhys.
Corinne grimaced but remained silent. She knew what was coming.
Stomping forward, Ben stole a glance at the mage. Dark bags hung below her eyes and her booted feet shuffled through the snow listlessly. The way she looked, he wasn’t entirely sure she’d make it to Northport at this pace. She hadn’t recovered from whatever happened when the Rift was destroyed. She needed rest.
“Will power,” whispered Amelie, walking next to Ben.
He looked at her questioningly.
“It’s good for more than casting spells,” explained Amelie. “Lady Towaal has spent decades, maybe centuries for all I know, refining her will power. I know what you’re thinking, that she looks like she could collapse dead any minute. That’s the thing, she will keep going until she gets to Northport, or she does collapse dead. She’s determined we get there and she won’t bend.”
“That’s crazy,” grumbled Ben.
“It’s a good lesson,” remarked Amelie. “One we should keep in mind.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“The Sanctuary is filled with people like Lady Towaal,” answered Amelie. “People who are determined. I’ve been thinking about that as we’ve gotten closer to what we think is safety.”
Ben frowned.
Amelie continued, “The Sanctuary isn’t going to give up on us. The war between the Alliance and the Coalition is just getting started. We still know that the Sanctuary betrayed the Alliance, we still killed their people. They won’t let us live our lives unmolested. They are going to come for us, Ben.”
“It’s been months,” he argued. “If they haven’t found us yet, it’s because they don’t know where to look. In Northport, just Rhymer, Franklin, and the Librarian really know who we are, and they aren’t going to talk. The Sanctuary is publicly telling people you are dead. If that is out there, they can’t keep hunters and soldiers looking for us. I’m not saying we’re in the clear, but I think we’re kind of in the clear. As long as we stay smart.”
She looked ahead into the trees. “Maybe. Maybe the soldiers won’t be guarding the roads, maybe the hunters won’t be scouring the woods, but the mages are whom I am worried about. If Lady Towaal was looking for us…” Amelie gestured to the mage who was marching ahead of them. “Would she ever stop?”
“You’re right,” replied Ben ruefully. “We may always need to be careful, but we still have the advantage that they don’t know where to find us.”
“Mistress Eldred might be able to find us,” remarked Amelie. “Remember the blood magic? If she can feel some affinity for us, she could track us down.”
Walking through the woods, Ben felt sickening discomfort thinking about Eldred. The rest of the flight from the Sanctuary was a blur now, but he distinctly recalled the moment when Amelie smashed the glass on the mage’s face. Her terrible scream, the awful visage of her skin melting away…that was burned into his memory forever.
He wondered if it had killed her. They asked Towaal earlier, but she didn’t know.
The Sanctuary had the best healers in Alcott. If Eldred hadn’t died immediately, it’s likely someone could have saved her. If they did save her, Amelie was right, the woman would never stop hunting them.
Nothing they could do about that now but keep going.
Ben ducked under a low-hanging branch and pushed it up for Amelie to duck under as well. As he did, he realized there was another source for his discomfort. By now, they should be close to Free State. They heard none of the chopping and other sounds from their first visit.
“Rhys,” he called.
His friend was walking at the front of the group and looked back.
“I don’t hear anything,” remarked Ben. “No chopping, no blacksmith, nothing.”
Rhys nodded. “You’re learning.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means we need to proceed with caution,” answered Rhys. “It means the discussion about stopping in Free State might be moot.”
“You think they were overrun?” interjected Corinne.
Rhys shrugged. “It’s possible. Only one way to know for sure.”
They adjusted weapons and tried to shake off their weariness. The closer they got without hearing anything, the more obvious it became something was wrong.
Two bells later, none of them were surprised when they entered the clearing around Free State and saw broad sections of the log palisade torn down. Bodies were scattered near the openings where the townspeople must have rushed to defend the breaches. Thankfully, they were far enough away to be spared the gory details.
In the field before the broken wall, a few dark lumps marked demons that had been felled by arrows from the town. The silence spoke to the number who got inside successfully.
“Do we investigate?” Rhys asked Towaal.
“No,” she responded remorsefully. “No one is alive in there. We keep going.”
Ben looked back as they passed the freshly built town and felt a tinge of regret they didn’t do more to warn the inhabitants. Peckins and Mistress Albie were kind people.
He understood their desire to get away. The Alliance, the Coalition, and the Sanctuary…none of it made sense to him. The leaders had no interest in the wellbeing of the people, so the people left. Unfortunately for these folk, they picked the wrong place to start over.
A day and a half later, as the sun was sinking beneath the skeletal branches of the birch trees, they approached Skarston. Free State was overrun, all of its occupants dead. The same swarm could have moved further to the larger town of Skarston. Bigger walls, watchtowers, and professional armed soldiers would all make a difference, but would it be enough?
The wind changed direction, and minutes later, they got their first clue. An acrid, greasy smell floated toward them.
“Burning demons,” muttered Corinne.
“Someone must be alive to burn them,” said Rhys hopefully. They all knew a swarm big enough to overrun Free State would inflict serious damage in Skarston. A swarm like that couldn’t be defended against bloodlessly.
With twilight falling on the forest, they finally saw the flickering fires of the burning demon pile. Thick, black smoke billowed up into the night air. Ben coughed as the wind moved a noxious whiff of the stuff in their direction.
On the walls of the town, braziers burned. By the flickering light, they saw men moving around.
Closer though, they were able to pick out other details, like where the stone wall had been pulled down in one section and the heavy gates left open and hanging at an odd angle.
Corinne started walking faster, obviously eager to see what happened inside. She’d grown up in Skarston and still had friends living behind those walls. The rest of them kept pace.
At the broken gate, a weary soldier r
ose to greet them. He was standing atop a tipped over wagon, which blocked the entrance.
“Ho travelers!” he called.
“Ho Skarston,” replied Corinne, still fifty strides from the gate.
He spoke to someone inside then turned to face them again, holding a crossbow. “State your business before you get too close.”
“Hunters returning from the Wilds,” replied Corinne with a snarl. “Since when do I need to explain my business to you before entering my hometown?”
“Corinne?” asked the guard. “Is that you?”
Drawing closer, the huntress responded, “We grew up three blocks away from each other, Efrain. You don’t recognize me?”
The soldier clambered down from the wagon and strode forward to greet them. Behind him, two more faces appeared from behind the barrier. The man embraced her, crushing her against the hard steel of his chainmail.
“Oof, careful, Efrain,” she complained.
“Sorry,” he choked. “We’ve lost so many. I…It’s good to see you.”
“What happened?” asked Rhys quietly.
The guard turned to him. “A swarm like I’ve never seen before. No one has. Last I heard, we counted forty seven of the bastards. All corpses now, but they took a toll. Come on.” The guard waved for them to follow and he started back toward the gate.
“We’ll have to climb over,” he said apologetically, looking at the women. “We weren’t prepared for anyone to come in from the north, so we didn’t leave a way in.”
“We can manage,” responded Corinne. She then looked at Ben and smirked. “You’re okay with that, right?”
Ben rolled his eyes and, looking at the chest high wagon, remarked, “I think I can handle it.”
They scrambled over the wagon, following Efrain into Skarston. Ben’s breath caught when he reached the top of the wagon and he got his first look inside the town.
Damage and destruction littered the streets. Grim streaks of dark reddish brown led from several of the nearby buildings.
“Sorry,” mumbled Efrain when he saw their faces. “We started cleaning up, but, well, people didn’t see much point in it.”
“What do you mean?” asked Corinne.
“Evacuation,” declared another man who had just arrived. He wore a badge of rank hanging from around his neck, but it was his air of quiet authority that gave him away as a leader.
“Captain Ander,” said Corinne.
He nodded to her and growled, “Glad you’re alive. We can use your skills more than ever back in Northport. We’re falling back to there,” he declared.
“Makes sense,” nodded Rhys.
Ander glanced at him then continued talking to Corinne. “Now, little lady, I’d like to hear what you were doing out there and what you saw.”
She looked to Towaal, who quietly advised, “We tell Rhymer and Franklin. No one else.”
Ander set his hands on his hips and prepared to argue, but Corinne silenced him with a look. “You know me, Captain. You know who my father is. We are headed straight to Lord Rhymer. We’ll rest here tonight. We leave at first light for Northport.”
Mouth opening to respond, Ander was cut off by Lady Towaal. “Captain, retreating is the right decision. One thing we can tell you is to not waste time. Demons are coming, Captain. Many, many more than you faced here. As Corinne said, we leave at first light. I recommend you and everyone else still breathing in this town comes right behind us. You won’t survive the next wave.”
She then pushed past the captain and shuffled down the battle-scarred and bloodstained street.
“I…” started the captain, but the rest of the companions followed Towaal, too tired to discuss it further with the man.
The inn they stayed in last time was abandoned, but the beds and a few items in the larder remained. They helped themselves and quickly retired. After over a month in the Wilds, they could taste the comforts offered in Northport.
14
Prepare for the Worst
The trip from Skarston to Northport went by in a blur. Exhausted, they were determined to finish the journey with no more delays.
They passed the town of Kapinpak but didn’t stop. The gates of the small town were shut tight. Ben didn’t see any people. He hoped they fled.
When they finally arrived outside of Northport, he was glad to see the gates of the walled city remained open. As they drew closer, he felt the sense of grim realization that had settled over the place since the last time they were there.
Northport was getting ready. The people in the streets were armed to the teeth. Every man, woman, and child had some weapon on their body. Most were utilitarian swords, but some of the poor residents had meat cleavers, wood axes, and other repurposed tools.
The first wave of survivors arriving from Skarston was the last sign people needed that this was more than just a temporary swell in the demon population. Everyone in Northport was now convinced that the threat was serious.
As they drew near the center of the city, they saw the wide-open square in front of Lord Rhymer’s keep was decorated with a variety of colorful numbered flags.
Ben frowned at them, unsure what the significance was.
Rhys cursed under his breath.
“What?” asked Ben.
“They’ll use those flags for marshalling Rhymer’s army,” responded Rhys. “Each flag represents a company. He’s planning to march.”
“March where?” queried Ben.
“Does it matter?” answered Rhys. “His men are needed behind these walls protecting his people.”
They walked straight up to the front gate of the keep, not bothering with the complicated deception they used to gain entry last time. On this visit, they let Corinne lead the way. As a hunter, she had a pretext for entering the keep. The guards waved her through as soon as they saw her.
Once inside, they moved again to the big audience chamber still filled with costumed and perfumed courtiers. It was the one place that wasn’t on a war footing. Many of the people inside seemed completely oblivious to what was happening outside in the city. The wheels of bureaucracy rolled on.
Catching one harried-looking page by the arm, Corinne demanded, “Where is Seneschal Franklin?”
The page eyed Corinne’s dirty, unkempt look and scoffed, “I don’t think the seneschal has time for you. Maybe you should try the baths first.”
Corinne’s small fist pounded into the page’s stomach. Doubled over wheezing for breath, he collapsed to the floor. Gasps of disbelief echoed around them and a space cleared around the companions.
“My way was subtler,” muttered Rhys under his breath.
Ben glanced at him.
“Sort of subtler,” admitted Rhys.
Waiting for the page to recover, Corinne stood above him. She looked up when several guards appeared.
“What is the meaning of this?” demanded a guard, looking over Ben and his companions.
The coughs and squirms of the page were ignored.
Corinne stared back at the guards with one eyebrow raised. “We need to see Seneschal Franklin, immediately, and alert Rhymer that I have returned.”
“Oh,” said the man, meeting the Corinne’s gaze and ignoring the page. The guard turned on one heel and waved them to follow. “This way, Lady Corinne.”
“Lady?” grumbled Amelie.
Corinne glanced at her. “You didn’t tell me you were an initiate, and I didn’t tell you that I had, ah, esteemed patronage. Now we both know everything.”
“Almost everything,” Ben corrected.
Both ladies looked back at him and he winced. He was saved from explaining, though, as they quickly reached a small, wood-paneled room where Seneschal Franklin sat, pouring over a ledger filled with neat handwriting.
He rose and nodded to them with a relieved look. “You made it back.”
“Most of us,” murmured Corinne softly.
To the guard, Franklin instructed, “Please ask Rhymer to come see me. Tell him it’s
urgent.”
“And bring ale. Plenty of cold ale,” added Rhys.
The guard looked at Rhys askance, but Franklin conceded. “Go ahead and get him the ale, after you’ve spoken to Rhymer.”
Shortly, they were ensconced in a small private dining room with the seneschal, Lord Rhymer, two of Rhymer’s generals, and the watch commander.
Franklin had already quizzed them on the success of their mission and he succinctly relayed the news to Rhymer and his men. The generals and watch commander looked skeptical, but the trust the seneschal and Rhymer had in Ben and his companion’s story prevented them from speaking up.
At least until Franklin reached the part about the huge demon swarm they saw in the valley. One of the gruff men couldn’t contain his disbelief anymore and objected.
“Hold on now,” barked the general. “You’re expecting me to believe this fairy tale? Some ancient Rift we’ve never heard about, magic powers, volcanoes? I don’t buy it,” he declared, staring down the company.
“General,” rebutted Franklin, “I’m sure you have heard rumors about the Rift. It wasn’t common knowledge, but I can’t believe someone in your position hasn’t heard rumblings. Don’t be naïve.”
The man snorted and sat back. “I don’t believe this and don’t know what it changes. So what if they saw a big demon swarm? We knew it was out there. Doesn’t change a damn thing about what we need to do.”
Rhys interrupted brusquely. “General, if your plan is to go out and meet the demons, you’ll get annihilated.”
“What do you know, hunter?” snarled the general.
“I know a lot more than you think,” responded Rhys coolly. “There are thousands of demons and they are likely coming this way!”
“There’s nothing in the histories about a swarm that big,” challenged the second general. “If a swarm that big is even possible, then surely there would be some record of it happening before. There isn’t even a mention of a swarm one hundred strong, from what I understand.”