by AC Cobble
“There’s a curfew. The gate’s been locked for days!” growled the soldier. He was irate but not so much as to get the attention of his fellows. They were clustered close around a burning brazier by the gate, drinking and laughing, paying no attention to the cart.
Another muffled response came from the wagon. The figure was hunched over, leaning to speak with the guard.
“Look. This gate ain’t opening until the search is done. The garrison arrives from Willow on the morrow. It won’t be long after that. Wait until then like everyone else.”
“I get paid when I get to Amum,” answered the wagon driver, “if I’m on time.”
The voice tickled the back of Ben’s conscious.
“Not my problem,” declared the guard.
“You’re costing me two gold. Have a heart, man!”
“Sounds like you’re overpaid to me,” snarled the guard. “I don’t make two gold in a month of sitting out here in the cold. Turn this wagon around. I’m going back to the fire.”
“What if you were paid?” asked the driver. His hood was pulled up and his voice came out muffled.
Ben wracked his brain, trying to identify the voice. He glanced at Amelie. In the dim light, he could see her brows furrowed. It was familiar to her too. Whoever was driving that cart, they knew him.
“You said you got two gold?” answered the guard, suddenly interested.
“I could part with two silver of that,” offered the driver, “but only if I knew I could make it on time.”
“Seems like that should be worth four silver,” countered the guard.
“Three.”
“Nack,” barked the guard to his fellow. “Open the gate.” Turning to the driver, he added, “After I see the shine of those coins.”
Nack, obviously the junior guardsman, scrambled to the gate and lifted the heavy pin that locked it shut. Some of the guards by the fire voiced complaint.
The first one shouted them down. “Next time you drunks can leave the fire. This one is mine. It ain’t one of them spies so no harm making a little coin on the side.”
The wagon driver flipped three coins in the air. Ben saw them flash silver in the light from the fire. The driver clucked at the donkey and the cart started to roll. Right before the driver disappeared through the gate, he tilted back something in his hand and took a drink.
At the same time, Ben and Amelie both excitedly whispered, “Rhys!”
Nearly bursting with excitement, they snuck back to the corner of the manor and hurried through the alley. Ben’s half-healed wound needled him with pricks of pain at every stride, but they had to move fast. They needed to get to the wall, climb it, and race across open ground. They couldn’t let the guards see them, but they couldn’t let Rhys and the cart get away.
They didn’t speak. They were thinking the same thing. How and why didn’t matter. They knew their friend and possible salvation was rolling away from them.
At the wall, Ben reached up and dragged himself over. Amelie was more graceful, scampering up it then dropping smoothly to the other side. Ben landed with a thump. Rolling to his feet, he scanned the dark terrain, looking for the wagon.
“The road heads due south,” said Amelie. “We can go cross country for a quarter league and then cut over to meet it. We’ll probably be behind him.”
Ben nodded. They didn’t want to get on the road too close to the gate where someone might see them.
The ground was covered in the thick plains grass they’d been traveling through for weeks. Not ideal but not high enough to trip them up either. They jogged across the open ground, Ben proceeding at a half-trot, half-gallop. He knew his hip would be sore, but there was no question he’d push himself to catch the cart. He’d drop to the ground in exhaustion before he let Rhys get away.
They kept going until suddenly they stumbled onto a hard-packed dirt road. Amelie, clearly surprised at the change in footing, went sprawling forward. Ben helped her to her feet, not commenting.
“This road runs east-west, I think,” said Ben.
“That means there is a crossroads,” groaned Amelie. “They could go any direction.”
“They didn’t,” declared Ben. “They’ll go east to Irrefort. The only question is have they already passed here?”
Amelie didn’t argue but she didn’t have an answer. They stood for precious moments, torn with indecision.
“If we go the wrong way, we may never catch them,” fretted Amelie.
“We have to decide,” responded Ben.
But they didn’t. The cold wind brought the creak of wooden wheels. Ben and Amelie turned to stare down the road. In the black night, they couldn’t see the wagon until it was two-dozen paces from them, moving slowly and steadily.
Five paces away, the driver hauled back on the harness and the wagon rolled to a stop.
“You know any good taverns around here?” croaked the voice of the driver.
A door slammed open. A shrill cry, “Why are we stopping?”
“We found what we’re looking for,” answered Rhys.
13
Pouring Rain
On the black road, a quarter league from Morwith, Ben got a crushing bear hug from his friend. Amelie was clutched by Corinne. Ben heard tiny sniffles emanating from one of them. He would never ask which. Lady Towaal looked on dispassionately.
“This is lovely,” stated the mage, “but it’s not yet time to stop. This night is full of danger. We have to keep moving.”
Rhys snorted. “That’s a bit melodramatic, isn’t it? Nothing out here they aren’t already running from.”
Towaal grunted. “We need to get going.”
“As you wish,” responded Rhys, only a sliver of sarcasm edging his voice. “Ben, you want to ride up front? This tiny cart you procured is going to get tight with four of you in there.”
“Of course,” agreed Ben. He gripped the bench and hauled himself up.
“Run into some trouble?” asked Rhys.
Ben looked at him.
“Just kidding,” continued Rhys with a grin. “We heard.”
Ben settled on the hard wood while Rhys clambered up beside him. The rogue handed Ben the reins then dug out his flask. “You’re driving.”
Ben could only shake his head while he gathered up the harness. When he heard the door close at the back of the wagon, he snapped the lead, and they lurched into motion.
There were a lot of questions. Ben started with, “Why do you have my cart?”
Rhys took a sip of his flask. “Well, that’s a bit of a long story.”
“Do you have something better to be doing?” asked Ben.
Rhys sighed dramatically and took another sip. “This is going to take all night. Let me do it right and start at the beginning.” The rogue adjusted his perch on the bench, getting as comfortable as one can on rock hard wood. “Let’s see,” he started. “I’m sure you recall how Towaal and I battled the forces of darkness and you ran like a scared rabbit?”
Ben snorted. “Don’t you have hundreds of years to make up for? Battling one evil mage is surely just the beginning.”
Rhys grunted. “Fair enough. Seriously though, that woman is evil. Stay away from her. If you see her, run. Don’t leave anything you’ve touched that she can find, like this cart.”
Ben glanced at his friend. “Evil?”
“Towaal and I left the Sanctuary because we thought the Veil had taken a bad turn,” replied Rhys. “What they did with Eldred is not right.”
“I don’t understand,” responded Ben.
“We didn’t either at first,” said Rhys. “We thought she was a mage like any other. She’s always had a mean streak. And after what you two did to her, she had reason to want your heads. Eldred is talented, but what we faced in that square was unnatural. No living mage should have that kind of power. I hadn’t seen anything like it in a long, long time. She’s using death to gather energy to herself.”
“Society of the Burning Hand?” asked Ben.
> Rhys coughed and nearly fell off the wagon seat. “Where did you hear that?” he demanded.
Ben grinned. “We didn’t just run like rabbits. We had a bit of an adventure too.”
“Where?” asked Rhys.
“You started your story,” said Ben. “I’ll tell mine when you finish.”
Rhys grumbled but sat back and began again. “Yes, a group that existed long ago. The Society had some techniques that could explain Eldred. They used dark, evil magic. Techniques I thought were forgotten, but there she is. She’s able to command great power. More than a human body should be able to withstand. There is a limit to how strong-willed one can be after all. It’s possible the Sanctuary was able to imbue her with that power. The Society did this, but it came at a cost to the recipient. Once that was understood, few chose to follow the path. For our purposes tonight though, it doesn’t matter. She’s powerful, too powerful, and we’ll leave it at that. Back in Northport, did you see Towaal open the rift?”
Ben nodded. Rhys offered Ben the flask, but Ben shook his head.
Rhys tucked it away. “Corinne and I heard the commotion from the keep so we started heading toward the wall to see what was happening. There were some rather large explosions and we ran faster. By the time we reached the wall, Towaal was fleeing. We saw her run into the library. Eldred was close behind, throwing alternating waves of fire and ice. Chaos reigned in the square. A dozen demons had slipped through the rift already and slaughtered the Sanctuary’s guards. They were spreading out, looking for life-blood.”
Rhys ran a hand through his hair, pulling back wispy strands that had fallen in his face. In the dark night, some of them shone silver to Ben’s eye.
The rogue added, “The library collapsed. The entire building just collapsed. I knew whatever was going on in there, I couldn’t help Towaal. Instead, Corinne and I rushed down, gathered a handful of Rhymer’s guards, and went to face the demons. It was a small rift so only small demons were getting through, but they were coming quick. When we got out of the gates, they turned toward us. A steady stream of them but nothing we couldn’t handle. Hunters started appearing in the square. It was easy money for them. They barely had to get out of bed. With their help, we circled the rift and pressed close. Demons kept coming, but they had nowhere to go.”
Ben grimaced. “Before you got there, did any get loose in the city?”
Rhys nodded. “Some did. A score of people were killed, but keep in mind, it was Northport. People bring a sword to buy bread. After a quarter bell of us fighting the demons, Towaal came running down a side street. She was covered in dust and blood. She closed the rift then collapsed in my arms. The fear was obvious in Towaal’s face. I knew Eldred must have survived too so we ran.”
“Where did you go?” asked Ben.
“There’s an abandoned mage’s tower at the back of one of Northport’s older estates,” answered Rhys. “It’s part of the garden now. I imagine the current owner has no idea about its history. It was once home to a bit of a recluse, a man who spent his days shut up in there, hiding from the Sanctuary. I’d explored it years ago out of curiosity and hoped it was still standing. Lucky for us, it was. The old man had warded the thing extensively. His glyphs are still carved in the walls. If he used those glyphs to hide from the Sanctuary, I thought maybe we could use them to hide from Eldred. The three of us huddled there for two days before Towaal woke up. When she did, she could barely move. She told us she’d triggered a trap for Eldred when they ran through the library, something the Purple had left. It was an inscription on the floor, the ceiling, and the walls. It would drain the will of anyone unfortunate enough to pass through after it was activated. Towaal assumed the library’s destruction was Eldred shattering the trap. It should have stopped any normal mage, but, as I said, Eldred is no longer normal. It delayed her enough though, giving Towaal time to get out the back and find us.”
“Wow,” breathed Ben.
“The excitement died off for a bit after that,” remarked Rhys. “We stayed in the tower. Corinne snuck out after a few days and found us supplies. She checked with some of her loyal friends and they told us Eldred survived. The mage was in the keep, in hiding, but it was clear she was directing a search of the city. Rhymer was going along with it, either sure we wouldn’t be found or too scared to defy Eldred. After a few days, I went out too. I thought if I could strike on my terms, maybe we could finish this quickly.”
Ben remembered Jasper’s warnings about Rhys and his past exploits.
“Everyone sleeps, right?” continued Rhys. “That’s what I thought, but apparently not Eldred. During the day, she was directing Rhymer’s men from behind closed doors. At night, flickering lights and strange noises all bubbled out from those chambers. I never got close enough to see what she was doing. Corinne and Towaal both forced me to promise I wouldn’t take a risk so I returned to the tower. I guess it was a few days later that Towaal was able to reach you through the device.”
Shifting on the seat, Rhys finished, “After that, we waited a little longer. Eventually, Corinne arranged safe passage out of the city. We didn’t want to be seen by anyone, friend or foe. We had word Eldred was gone, but signs of her hand were obvious outside of town. Roving patrols of guards, both Northport and Sanctuary, several hunters, and we even encountered a mage.”
“A mage!” exclaimed Ben. “What happened?”
Rhys brushed back his cloak and tapped his longsword. “The woman was entirely focused on Towaal. I haven’t had such an easy fight since you and I sparred together.”
Ben snorted.
“Now,” said Rhys, “tell me your story.”
“Hold on,” protested Ben. “That’s not all. How did you find us?”
Rhys complained, “My throat is getting sore from all of this talking.”
“I’m sure you’ll be okay,” replied Ben. “Finish and then I’ll tell you our tale.”
Sighing, Rhys continued, “Once we got a few days clear of Northport, the patrols slowed down, and we were able to move quickly. Corinne has familiarity with the area and directed us cross country. She knew a few good shortcuts and back trails. We made decent time.”
“It’s good Corinne decided to come,” remarked Ben.
“She didn’t have a choice,” responded Rhys. “It’s well known in Northport that she’s travelled with us. During the battle with Eldred, she was by my side. Northport is loyal to its own so the people wouldn’t intentionally sell her out to Eldred, but it would inevitably surface. If she stayed, Eldred would have her.”
“If you’ll let me finish now,” grumbled Rhys, “the rest isn’t very exciting. We travelled hard, knowing you had a few weeks head start on us. We were intending to make Irrefort and find you there. Then, about a day west of here, we hear a rumor on the road about fireballs and two young spies. A lord and his soldiers were dead. Buildings were burned. It sounded like chaos.”
Chuckling, Ben admitted, “Things got a little out of hand.”
“We knew that would be you two, of course, but when we got here, you’d already disappeared. We learned the cart was yours so we purchased it from the guard captain. No one else wanted to be associated with it, and the soldiers had already thoroughly searched it. I suspect he’ll keep the coins himself, but he said he’d put it toward rebuilding the green.”
Ben blushed. They hadn’t meant to cause so much destruction. “Why though?” asked Ben. “Why did you buy it?”
“You can’t leave anything behind for Eldred to find,” advised Rhys. “We don’t know her full capabilities, but we know that she was able to track you in Northport using blood. If you slept inside of this thing, there could be hairs, a sense of you, something she could use. We heard what happened and knew it was you. I’m sure she’ll think the same. Hopefully, she didn’t expect us to head to Coalition territory and we have a head start, but she could be arriving in Morwith any day now. We’ll get another day away and then find a quiet spot to burn this thing.”
“Or we could keep it,” suggested Ben. “The Coalition is going to be looking for two spies travelling on foot. Not five peddlers with a cart.”
Rhys scratched his chin. “Maybe. We’ll talk to Towaal about it when we stop. Now though, tell me what you’ve been up to.”
Ben relayed their story, taking considerably longer than Rhys did. By the time he finished, Rhys was staring at him in appreciation and the sun was cresting the horizon ahead of them.
“Jasper,” mumbled Rhys. “It’s been a long time since I’ve heard that name.”
“He doesn’t like you,” mentioned Ben hesitantly. He wasn’t sure how his friend would react to their involvement with the mage but he didn’t hold anything back. Rhys had been with them long enough to earn Ben’s trust.
“No,” agreed Rhys, “he wouldn’t like me. There’s been some, ah, unpleasantness throughout the years. From time to time, I’ve had encounters with his acquaintances. It didn’t always end well.”
“Did you assassinate them?” accused Ben.
Rhys’ gaze darted to the side. “Not all of them.”
Ben swallowed.
“I wasn’t always a good man. I told you that,” explained Rhys. “Some of those people were bad. Some of them were good. At the time, it didn’t matter to me. I don’t have any excuses for what I’ve done, but no one is past redemption, are they? It doesn’t mean I can’t change. I’m trying to do the right thing now.”
Ben shrugged. “We told Jasper that. I’m not sure he is convinced. I think he might fight you if given the chance.”
Rhys nodded solemnly. “I suspect he would.”
They rolled on silently. The morning sun broke through stands of trees and played hide and seek between the undulating hills.
After a bell of silence, Rhys spoke up. “You hungry?”
“It’s that time, isn’t it,” replied Ben.
Ben found a suitable spot and stopped the wagon. The women poured out of the back and Rhys hopped down to start a fire. Ben gave Corinne a quick hug and nodded to Towaal. The mage wasn’t the hugging type.