by Heath Pfaff
I nodded my agreement, but wondered what we could really do even if we managed to get back to dry land. We could hardly report what we'd learned to the king. We could trek all the way back to Lucidil and report to him, but he did not have the size of army needed to resist a massive encroaching force. Of course, such thoughts were all speculation. Neither Brutal nor I knew the exact nature of the enemy that had attacked us. It was hard to imagine, however, that they had anything like peaceful intentions in mind.
"Did you see their figure head?" Brutal said suddenly, breaking my thought process.
"No," I replied. I had been too engaged in what was happening on deck to notice the enemy ship's figure head.
"It was some kind of monstrous thing, with great, milky white eyes, probably jewels of some type. A terrifying beast. I've never seen anything like it. When it first crashed into us, I thought one of Silent's monsters had gotten a hold of our ship." The large warrior paused for a moment before adding. "I think the kid will be all right. Sneaky bastards like him can generally get themselves out of any kind of trouble."
I hoped he was right.
We spent nearly a full day drifting at sea before we even came within sight of land, and by the time we were able to paddle our makeshift ship to shore our bodies were coated in a layer of salty ice. Had I needed to fight just then, I would not have been able to do so even to save my life. My legs were numb from their time in the water, and my fingers ached as I forced them to move against their better inclination. As soon as we were able to drag ourselves onto land we went about building a fire, scavenging drift wood and dried fall from trees further up the shore, not caring what attention the blaze might bring. Neither of us was in any position to go any further without melting the ice from our clothes and limbs. Within a few hours of getting our fire going, the worst of the cold was finally dissipating.
Brutal had not broached the topic of what our next move might be, and I was not inclined to do so either. I intended to continue north to find Kyeia, but I wasn't certain what Brutal intended. It was obvious that the terms of our original mission no longer applied. Our transport to the north lands was gone, and we couldn't be certain how much progress we'd made before our ship was attacked. One of our party was missing, and Brutal and I were both short on our supplies and resources. We had our Lucidil cloaks, which had been at the bottoms of our packs, but our chain mail armor was gone, and our food rations were destroyed by their long exposure to the ocean water. Our scabbards were saturated with salt water, and we were in need of the proper supplies to treat our weapons so that they wouldn't rust. In general, we were in no position to go on. I knew that, and was well aware that Brutal knew it as well. I had no intention of going back, however, and it was that fact that I believed would cause strife with Brutal.
We sat in silence, watching the fire and drying our clothes. It took a good six hours to finish drying our clothing, but as soon as all of our cloth had thoroughly been freed of water, Brutal stood up and slung his pack over his shoulder. I did the same, looking to the sky to get a fix on the direction I needed to travel. The stars were high, and it was easy to find north. I turned, ignoring Brutal entirely, and started walking. I took only two steps before a clawed hand clasped my shoulder firmly.
"You're going the wrong way." Brutal's voice had a low, undeniable growl to it. I had been right in assuming he would want to go back, and assuming that he would be aware of my intentions.
"No, I'm going north, towards the Uliona lands... toward our mission," I said, not turning to face the big warrior.
"Our responsibility is to Lucidil. This mission has been over since our ship was attacked and sunk. We have to go back and report what has happened, and if Lucidil chooses to send us back out, he'll arrange another ship and we'll head north again." Brutal said, his grip on my shoulder tightening.
I turned to face him, "Our mission is north. I don't remember Lucidil creating a stipulation that said we had to turn back if our ship was attacked."
"Don't you play smart with me, boy," growled the fierce Broken Sword. "You know as well as I that what happened out to sea is no minor matter. Besides, in the time it would take you to walk north, we could return to camp, get a ship, and reach our destination."
"You don't know that. Do you have any idea how far our ship went before it was set upon? Do you know how far we drifted? I'm not wasting any more time by going south." More than losing time, I was afraid that if I went south, Lucidil would not allow me to return for Kye. It was a distinct and terrifying possibility that I wasn't willing to accept.
Brutal's hand went to his sword hilt and his lip curled, "Don't make me rail you in, cub. You think you're something special, but you're just a sword like the rest of us. We're doing as I say because it is our duty and I outrank you on this trip. Now come along without a fuss and this won't have to get messy."
I didn't want to fight the more experienced warrior again. He wasn't as fast or as strong as I was, but his skill outclassed mine by a wide margin. He would win if things came to blows. I didn't intend to turn back, however. No matter how little distance we'd covered aboard the ship, I felt that if I ran north as hard as I could, I would make better time reaching my destination then if I were to go south and wait to be given a ship once more, the chance remained that Weaver would not allow my return to the Uliona lands at all once he'd heard the news of our ship's strange attackers.
"What will you tell Weaver? Will you tell him that an enemy may be coming from across the sea and that they bring strange magic and pose a threat to all of us? What would he do? His army is large, but it is not large enough to secure the whole coast, and he would have to contend with the king's own men in order to secure those positions anyway. How thin would his numbers be if he had to first take the coastal guard points, and then defend them? What would you accomplish by warning him now?" I asked, trying to persuade the big warrior before violence broke out.
"He would have important knowledge, and knowledge is a great weapon." Brutal drew his sword as he spoke, and began circling about the fire. "Almost as great as this one."
I followed him, step for step, keeping the blaze between myself and my crafty opponent. "Are you going to fight me and kill me, Brutal? What would Weaver have to say about that? Why don't you just let me go north on my own?"
"He'd probably say, 'Why thank you Brutal, that boy was a stubborn idiot who was always getting in the way, what would I do without your decisive and bold actions?'" The swordsman smiled at his own cleverness.
I smiled myself, finding humor in the comment despite my best intentions. "He might, but perhaps he would say, 'Would it have really taken that long to go north, finish your mission and then come back? Now we're going to need a new 'Noble fool.'"
Brutal chuckled and his sword tip dropped. "Damn it, boy, why do you have to make my life so difficult? I could have been in a nice warm cot by a fire somewhere, enjoying the company of a warm woman, but instead I'm out here in the frigid cold, scraping brine from my skin, and enjoying the company of a smart-mouthed brat with more power than brains."
I shrugged, "At least you're not out to sea anymore. Did you really want to take another boat ride?"
"No, I suppose not," he said, only sounding a little perturbed. "Alright, we'll go north, but we need to stop in a town and pick up some supplies along the way. Also, we'll travel fast. I want to get back to Lucidil's camp as soon as we can. He needs to know what happened."
I nodded, happy to see that the crisis had been averted. Brutal was fierce, but he was also intelligent and might even have some semblance of goodness in him, despite his best intentions to the contrary. I preferred to have him on my side than to have to fight against him. For the first time I realized what an important asset Brutal really was on my mission. He was intelligent, and terrific in a fight. If I used my time with him appropriately, I could learn a good deal. Lucidil was far wiser than I had given him credit for. Of course he should be, having lived as long as he had. He'd had time to
learn. If I was to become stronger as a person, I needed to learn to listen to those more experienced than myself. At the least, I needed to hear them out before dismissing them entirely.
Traveling fast also wasn't a problem for me, as I didn't want to spend any more time than necessary on the road before reaching the villa in Iol. I didn't know what the king's men were doing to Kye, but I had a suspicion that I wouldn't like it when I found out. I swore to myself that if they were hurting her, I would make each and every one of them pay for it with their lives. It might not be the noble thing to do, but I was at my limit as far as nobility was concerned.
I lost track of the time as we ran. Despite my clothes being dry, and the fire having warmed me before we left our temporary camp, I still felt a deep chill in my bones. It was, I knew, only the last vestige of chill from the frigid ocean waters, but that didn't change the fact that the cold clung to me, unwilling to be shaken free. Our pace though, a quick run by any standards, was working out the frost from my joints far better than the fire had. It felt great to stretch my new legs for the first time, the miles flying away with only the barest effort. As I ran, I felt that I was possessed of an unending vigor such that I might continue on forever. I was light and agile as I'd never dreamed of being in my youth. Brutal ran just ahead of me, keeping the pace and guiding us in the direction of several plumes of smoke he'd seen to the north, further along the coast. Our other companion, Silent, was still missing, either lost to sea forever, or else simply on a different road than the one we now traveled. I still believed that he had made it back to shore and had taken a different route from there. He could have washed up anywhere along the beach for miles in either direction, so it was not only possible but likely that we would not encounter him at all. Still, it was difficult not to worry.
We drew closer to the town Brutal had sighted, and I knew before we even came in sight of our destination that something was amiss. There was an aura of black haze coming from above the frozen tree line and heavy trails of smoke hung thickly in the air, far larger than those that should have been coming from chimneys on a cold night. The air was full of the smells of battle, and there was tenseness in the environment that was hard to articulate. The wildlife in the area was silent, and the world seemed preternaturally still. Brutal knew something was wrong as well, and had probably noticed the strangeness around us before I had. His speed had been subtly increasing, but as we neared the last bend in the road we'd been following, he blurred forward, his body pushing toward its limits. I followed suit, riding the pace of my quickening heartbeat, and the scenery about me slowed to my perception.
The bend in the road was passed in a fraction of a second, and we both ground to halt, tearing ruts in the ground as we came to the edge of what once had been a small rural village in the full snowy cloak of winter. There was a large wooden wall, though it was blown apart, pieces laying strewn about the dirt streets. The buildings, those few that still stood, had been devastated by some something large and powerful. They were either partially or wholly collapsed, most were nothing more than piles of cinder, still giving off the telltale plumes of smoke that Brutal had been following. Beneath the smoke was a terrible stench of rot, so strong and putrid that I was thankful the smoke was partially obstructing the foulness. Brutal's claws were sharp, and held at the ready at his sides. I followed his example, sticking close to the experienced warrior with my weapons, the deadly claws on my hands, prepared to strike as needed.
Together we walked through the burnt-out remains of the town, paying silent witness to the atrocities committed on what looked to be a peaceful village. I didn't know the source of the attack, but I suspected what it might be and I thought that Brutal probably suspected the same source. Building after building we passed with no sign of survivors, the smell of rot becoming more potent as we proceeded towards the center of the village. I didn't know what we would find there, but I strongly suspected the worst. I dreaded every step we took that brought us nearer that foul smell, but Brutal pressed on determinedly, and I knew that we had to see what was to be seen. It was important. We were likely to be the only witnesses to the full extent of this atrocity. By the time any other village came looking, the entire disaster would be frozen over and most signs of what had happened erased by the ravages of nature. Our eyes would witness the full tale the ravaged village had to tell.
It took me a long time to realize exactly what I was seeing when we finally reached the center of town. There was a large pile of what I took to be bodies, laying and rotting in the central square, but as I grew closer I quickly realized that the pile was actually composed of only the skin of the men, women and children of the town, empty shells left to decay in the heat from the burning buildings. The rest of the bodies, the parts beneath the skin, were mostly gone, though six remained, tied to polls staked in the ground around the central pile of decaying flesh suits left behind by the residents. The bodies tied to the stakes were partially consumed, mostly missing from just below the rib cage down, leaving only bones, gnawed bare by small, sharp teeth. The faces of the people tied to the polls, what little remained of their faces, were frozen in expressions of wide mouthed horror. They had been staked, skinned, and eaten alive - I knew without needing to witness it myself. Among those on the stakes were a man, a woman and four children, the invaders having devoured an entire family alive, showing no compassion for the women or even the children. I swallowed back the urge to vomit that was rising steadily in the back of my throat, and followed Brutal who was making his way around the bodies and toward the other side of the town, the side that bordered the ocean. I knew what he was going to look for, and I think we both suspected what we would find.
The smell of rot faded quickly as we drew closer to the ocean, and for that I was thankful. That smell, that of rotting flesh, would forever haunt my dreams, as would the sights that accompanied it. I hoped that Brutal would not make us trace our route back through the town, for I had no desire to witness again that which I had already seen. I didn't have the stomach to look upon it a second time.
We pressed on. The scene at the beach was much as we'd expected. There were the telltale signs of battle, blood upon the sand, hundreds of intermingled foot prints, but there was something else as well.
"What are they?" I asked, looking at a set of large indents in the ground. I knew what I thought they were, but I felt certain that my guess must be wrong as they were far larger than they should have been.
"Tracks," Brutal confirmed what I had thought, leaving me more confused than reassured. "They look like Black Drake, only larger, and of a slightly different variety." He bent over, placing his entire hand in one of the indents made by a single claw on one of the prints. "Black Drakes have four claws, and this print has a fifth here, further out from the others. This is about twice the size of any print I've heard of, and three times the size of any I've seen with my own eyes."
The confirmation startled me. I had never seen a Black Drake myself, but I knew it to be the largest of the Drake species, or at least I had thought it to be the largest of the drake species, with a single specimen standing seven or eight times as tall as a man and long enough to fill a massive a dining hall. I wasn't sure what it implied to find such tracks leading up to the destroyed village, but I was certain it wasn't good. I wondered if the creatures we'd fought on board the Old Boy had somehow brought the monstrosity with them, or if it had come after the fact. Both options seemed unlikely, as I hadn't seen the creature with the strange monsters that attacked our ship, and I had never heard of such an attack on our lands before. I looked to Brutal, and there was a hard set about his face that made me think he was formulating some idea of his own.
"Where do you think it came from?" I asked him after a moment of silence. His black eyes shifted to mine.
"I think our friends from the Old Boy brought this monster with them when they came." He stated it as obvious, and I shook my head in negative, not agreeing with the older Broken Sword.
"
We didn't see it when they attacked, and surely if they had such an ally with them they would have used it when they sacked our boat." I told him my own conclusions, hoping he would see the reasoning as clearly as I did.
"Unless the creature was their boat, Noble." I flinched at his words, almost as if he'd physically hit me. "Think of the craft they traveled on, how it seemed to be made of bone and flesh, and you didn't see the figure head, but it was like the head of a great drake. I think they've formed some type of bond with the monster, and used its body as a craft to cross the deep seas into places normal ships shouldn't sail."
Brutal's theory was strange, but it had its merits. I had, indeed, never seen a boat such as the one our adversary at sea had piloted, and it did explain where the giant monster had come from. A few things, though, seemed not to fit into Brutal's theory.