by Heath Pfaff
Liet the Knight, Reana the midwife, Timro the Farmer, and Gaivin, Sheana and Everis, the children. Those were all who remained of the original party of forty that had first formed, according to Liet. Six children dead, and 38 adults, though we'd only known the 16 who remained when we met them in the inn. None of the children had parents anymore, and none of the adults had families. I looked from stark face, to stark face, allowing myself to fully understand what was represented by the threat of the Hungering. Each set of eyes told a story, each scar and bruise held a deep meaning.
I had encountered bad people many times in the world, and people who'd made decisions for the wrong reasons, but the Hungering were the first group I'd ever encountered that seemed bent on such malicious destruction. They cared not whether they killed man, woman, or child, as long as it was meat to feed their masses. They did not seek to conquer and acquire, but to destroy and feast.
Liet walked up next to me. "We were lucky last night." His voice was pitched low. "They didn't send any of the spell casters. They probably would have if we'd stayed another night."
"Spell casters?" I asked, remembering the time I'd sailed the ocean and come across the scout boat of Hungering, with its sails filled with blue energy. I remembered, as well, the creature that had stood upon the deck and cast molten fire down upon our own ship's crew.
"There are not many of them, but they can control fire, and manage the black drakes they use as transportation. One of them wiped out half of our advance defense when they came. We were unprepared." Liet's voice was heavy with memory.
"Will we be able to exit the city today?" I asked, seeking to change the direction of conversation. I wasn't certain we would survive another night within the city walls.
Liet nodded. "I'm taking us to a guardsmen's exit. We should be there in another hour or two at this pace. From there, it's open country." He looked to Silent. "We'll need him to find the king's forces though. I don't know to where they retreated."
"Silent will be fine and can direct us from there. He just needs some time to rest and heal. It's difficult to kill a Knight of Ethan." I answered, and for a time we walked on in silence, though I sensed there was something Liet wanted to say, or ask. He had a pensive look about him, weighted by curiosity. He feared me, but at the same time felt a companionship forged through shared combat. It was a condition that happened to those who fought together, but his sense of camaraderie was halted by my status, at least in his eyes, as a Knight of Ethan, and possibly as a monster.
"Why do you and Malice have eyes full of color, like the king, and not black eyes like all the other Knights of Ethan?" He finally asked, breaking the long silence. He quickly added, "If you don't mind me asking. . . I don't mean to impose, it's just I've never seen anything like it before, Seir'ir." He used the formal title for the Knights of Ethan again. It was one that no one ever used for me before I'd met him. I found it uncomfortable, possibly more so than the name given to me by Lucidil, Noble.
"That's difficult to explain, Liet." I said, and noticed that the young Knight seemed to deflate. I went on, so as not to squelch the nerve it took to breach the subject in the first place. "When we rise to become Knights of Ethan, our lives are joined with those of another. If that bond is exceptionally strong, then the color of our eyes will be bright. If the bond is not strong, then the color of our eyes will be black."
Liet seemed to cheer up a little at this. He had fought bravely, and I didn't think it my right to deny him the answer to a question. I didn't intend to explain to him the full ramifications of the bond created between a future Knight of Ethan, and the Uliona Bound One, but if he would be happy with a shortened version, that I could offer.
"It is strange that more Knights do not have colored eyes." Liet said, after a short time.
There he touched on a sensitive subject. "The bonding is a difficult process, and does not lend itself to forming close friendships, most of the time. Malice and I had unusual circumstances surrounding our bonding." I said, clipping my tone a little. I had said all I was willing to say on the subject, and without being rude, I wanted Liet to understand that. He seemed to, for he did not speak of it again. We progressed in grim silence.
That trek out of the city was harrowing. As burdened as Malice and I were, and as tired, any situation in which we needed to fight would likely have cost us our lives. With Liet leading, however, we encountered no enemies. We made it safely to the city wall as Liet had predicted we would.
The guardsmen's gate stood deathly quiet as we approached. Liet used his key to unlock the door to the gate house, and went inside to raise the portcullis. I watched our back as the gate was lifted to allow us freedom. I felt eyes upon me, as though the city held secret spies in every shadow, watching and waiting for me to let down my guard. I wasn't sure if this feeling was natural paranoia, or a result of my extreme exhaustion, but it was a feeling I could not shake no matter how hard I tried.
Finally, with the way ahead cleared, we departed the city. It was impossible to lower the gate from the outside, so it had to stay open, gaping like the jaws of a massive stone demon that might charge forward and swallow us up the moment we turned our backs from it. Even as we made our way quickly from the city, I could not shake the feeling that someone was watching me.
At the top of a hillock, just beyond the city, I turned back and looked at the sprawl of the human capital behind me. It looked nothing like it had when I'd first seen it four years before. In the wake of the Hungering attack, it looked like the burnt out ruins of an ancient relic, somehow still smoldering years after its downfall. Amidst the black smoke and haze, immense dark shapes moved, difficult to decipher from such a distance and through such a dark shroud of smoke, but terrifying for what horrific beasts they implied.
A blue fire burned at the top of the castle, an ominous, unnatural beacon. I turned my back on it, ignoring the feeling of eyes upon me, and rushed to catch up with the others.
The going was painfully slow. Silent's injuries kept him in a state of unconsciousness most of the time, and we desperately needed his guidance for direction. Once we found the main road, it would be easy enough to determine in which direction the king and his armies had fled, but without knowing the direction, we would have to circle the city, a dangerous proposition with the forces of the Hungering having occupied it so thoroughly. What was worse, according to Liet, a good portion of the Hungering forces were still sweeping along the coast line, destroying the villages there. It seemed as though there was no end to their numbers.
The few times Silent did rouse, he was nearly incoherent, and seemed lost in a place of his own fancy. He was a fast healer by human standards, and would recover from his wounds, but they were still grievous, and would need to run their course on his body. It was difficult to tell whether his delirium was caused entirely by his wounds, or was a result of his faltering mental state towards the end of our escape from the city. Either way, it placed us in a precarious situation. We needed to know which direction to travel, and how far to travel in that direction. Circling the city was not a feasible option.
"They probably did not head towards the shore line." Malice said, scanning over a map of the area that Liet carried in his pack, as we set huddled around a rock we were using as a make shift table. "Not with the Hungering originating in that direction. Unfortunately, that leaves us with a good many possibilities. Liet, do you know which direction the Hungering attacked from?"
Liet shook his head. "I was nowhere near the walls when we were beset. I was immediately sent to help gather refugees into groups and prepare them to leave. From that point, groups of soldiers and members of the Black Patch Brigade took the groups out of the city. I don't know exactly which direction they left, or even if they all left in the same direction. It's possible they took multiple routes."
That was a possibility that hadn't occurred to me, but it was one that made sense. Keeping one solid group of people might be easier to defend, but in a worst case scenario, in the ev
ent of a massive ambush, there would be immense military losses. An army would suffer fewer losses if the groupings were smaller, and spread out over a larger area. Had I been king, I would have grouped everyone together, and used my entire military force to guard the escape, but Lucidil was not like me. He would be more concerned with getting his army to its destination as intact as possible than he would be about saving the refugees from the city. I believed Liet's guess was right. The refugees were probably taken out in groups, to be rejoined later.
If anything, that would make our task easier. We needed only find the trail of one of those groups, and then we could track it back to the king's new fortifications. My eyes scanned the map. We still needed an immediate direction to travel. Where would the king set up his next defensive line?
He would need to choose a location that allowed him to have a terrain advantage, as well as providing him open access to supply lines from the back. He'd want to be near a major city, some place where the refugees could find shelter, and his army could obtain the provisions it would need for the battle. Unfortunately, so close to the capital, there were multiple large cities that could provide such backing.
"Here." Malice pointed to a location on the map, South-east of Kreo. It was a converging valley, deep, with high walls to either side, which ran some few miles across the countryside. At the far end of the valley was Kreolit, the first city established outside of Kreo, and one of the largest human established cities. Assuming it still stood, it would provide the provisions and support needed for Lucidil's army. Though, I knew, even a city of that size could not feed an army, and all the refugees, indefinitely.
"He will definitely go here." She tapped the spot on the map again. "It's a good place to defend, and it assures his back will be safe, so long as Kreolit has not fallen, and I do not believe the Hungering will have gotten there yet. Also, it brings him closer to the Shao Geok, and we know they have been allies to him in the past. I should think the Hungering would be threat enough to them as well, that they might come to Lucidil's call in this war."
Her logic was sound. I hadn't even considered the Shao Geok. This was yet another case in which Malice's wisdom was evident. In her two hundred years of life, she had well-honed her mind for strategy and fighting, and it was evident in all of her actions. Sometimes, when she was cold and distant, in her Knights of Ethan guise, it was difficult to remember how soft and compassionate she could be. I looked at her, her jaw set firm and determined, her brilliant red hair tied back severely, and her green eyes, dancing with the flowing, lightening-like streaks of the Uliona and Knights, sparkling in the fading light of day. She looked, to me, like a war goddess, imposing and beautiful at the same time, locked in a state of eternal youth and vigor. I had trouble imagining the tear streaked face of the girl I'd held long into the night just over six years before, in an embrace of mutual comfort.
"Noble?" Malice said, loudly, a slight look of concern on her face. "Are you alright?" I realized, then, that I had been starring, and had let my mind wander. I was tired, my body worn from its exertions the day before, and my thoughts prone to straying. Even a Knight of Ethan needed to rest sometimes. Malice too, looked exhausted.
"I'm alright. I'm still feeling last night's battle." I made my explanation short.
Malice nodded, her face stern once more, though I sensed her concern still remained. She couldn't allow herself to be seen as weak in front of those we were trying to protect. Of course, she was in no way weak, but after fighting for an entire night, pushing ourselves forward with all the speed and strength at our disposal, we were both reaching our limits.
I strengthened my resolve. If Malice could stay focused, I could as well. I owed her that much, and to those few people we had saved as well. They were counting on us, and it wouldn't due for Malice or me to appear on the edge of collapse, whether we were or not.
"That's a four day march from here." Liet said, scanning the distance on the map. I was about to correct him, to tell him that it was only a two day march, but then I realized that we would not be able to travel at the sustained rates we normally did, not while carrying the injured Silent, and traveling with those unable to run for an entire day.
The king and his men had left nearly a week before. Traveling with refugees, an army, as well as a collection of war sows, reave haulers, and livestock, they would probably just be reaching the valley, though some of the advanced troops and early refugees might have already reached that point. We would probably make better time than they did, but how long could Malice and I keep awake and on guard in our tired state? Would we be able to fight effectively if it became necessary?
Yes. There could be only one answer. We would have no other choice. Until we reached the valley and could safely turn over the refugees we would not be in a position to rest, not with the hungering at our backs, and people in our care. Few though they were, I had no intention of letting any more of them die. I had been witness to too much death in my short life.
"We should travel a few more miles tonight, and then we can stop and rest." I said the words, though I did not want to say them. Malice looked to me, and I saw the slightest smile on her lips. I knew, in that moment, that Malice had needed to say that exact same thing, but had not wanted to do it, not with everyone so worn out. They had been few words, but saying them for her, I had shouldered the burden. Even Malice, who could seem so cold, was not invulnerable to the turmoil around us.
"The children are tired." Reana said plaintively, before adding. "I am tired. Can't we rest here for the evening?" She looked at me, and I could see the exhaustion in her face. She was not lying when she said she was tired, not merely complaining for the sake of doing so. However, we were all tired. She looked to me for salvation, her eyes pleading, but I had none to offer. For her, there were only a few more miles to walk before she could rest. Malice and I would not have it so easy.
"No. We're still too near the city, and even in a few miles we'll be closer to that place than we should be. We must move on." I said, though the words were difficult. I made them cold, distant, trying to take on that commanding persona that Malice used so well. It was difficult for me, and sounded artificial when I used it. I was unaccustomed to giving orders. I only hoped that the others could not hear how unnatural those words were as I said them.
Reana bowed her head in supplication, not having the energy, or the nerve, to question me again. I remembered that she still saw Malice and me as monsters, creatures to be feared and avoided. I could have hated her for that, or at least resented her for it, but I remembered what it was to be human. We packed up our map and set out again, myself with Silent on my back, and Malice carrying the children.
". . . what it was to be human." I whispered those words, too quiet for anyone to hear but myself. Silent may have heard . . . had he been awake. Those words, that thought, struck me with a sense of finality. I had contemplated it many times, but it was that moment in which I truly accepted the fact that I was not human any longer. I did not think of myself in those terms. I had truly become the monster I had always feared I would.
We traveled for another two hours, until the sun had set entirely beneath the horizon, and the darkness made going any further dangerous. Liet and Reana curled up together with the children, shivering in the cold, until Malice took off her cloak and cast it about them. Timro huddled on the other side. He had been quiet since the fight at the inn. I gave up my cloak as well, knowing the winter cold would not harm me adversely, even if it made me uncomfortable. Neither Malice nor I received any form of thanks, and soon our charges were fast asleep, recovering from their ordeals, while we stood as exhausted sentries.
Silent lay apart from the others, wrapped in his own cloak, tossing and turning in his fevered sleep. His body was recovering, but he would be little use to us for the next two or three days, we both knew. He did not heal as Malice and I did, with such rapidity that we could watch our wounds close up before our eyes. In fact, other than Lucidil, and perhaps Eth
aniel himself, no other Knight of Ethan healed as we did.
"You can get some sleep if you want." Malice said, after a time of silence. Her voice was soft again, as it was when she was just Malice my dear friend, and not Malice the Knight.
I shook my head. "No, if they come in the night, we'll both need to be ready to fight immediately. I can't afford sleep now."
"I know." Malice answered quietly. "I wanted to offer it anyway."
I turned and smiled at her, and saw that she was smiling back, a knowing look in her eyes. She had offered, but she'd also known I wouldn't take her up on the offer. She had not done it to trick me, or to test what I would do, but only because she'd wanted to show concern, in her own way. Malice was difficult to understand at times, but there was more to her than many were willing to see. Of those I'd known over the years of my life, she was one of the strangest, and truly one of the best.