by T. Norman
At the river, Rysh splashed his face with water to help him wake up from the long night. Ros took the opportunity to jump in the river and splash about, enjoying the bath. Rysh made his way back to the campsite, the now-soaking dog at his side.
“Morning,” Rysh greeted Mic, Lori, and Bors, who now sat around the fire. They responded politely in kind. Mic pulled a bag of coffee out of his pack. “Coffee sounds great. Looks like that will be it, though, for breakfast.”
“I would rather have some ale, but I suppose this will do” Bors gave a chuckle. He’s still keeping up his act, I see.
“How’s Gayle doing?” Rysh looked at the sleeping young man.
Lori shook her head cautiously. “A little better. I think we were able to slow the infection, but he still has a fever. He’s not going to be able to walk for quite some time.” Rysh feared that would slow down their journey.
“Let’s wake the others. We need to get moving.” Rysh continued making coffee as Lori roused Gayle and Julia. Ros helped out by waking Gant with wet kisses.
They all gathered around the fire, sharing coffee but no words. Julia finally broke the silence.
“How are you feeling, Gayle?” The young girl had a kind heart, always thinking of others before herself.
“I’m good.” Gayle’s voice was shaky, and the others could hear the pain in his words. He let out a raspy cough. “My leg is a little sore, but hopefully in a day or so I’ll be able to walk on it.” He knew how much Gant looked up to him and was trying to stay optimistic for the sake of his young friend.
“That’s great to hear. I know you will be all right!” Tears formed in Julia’s eyes. No one had told her of her father’s fate directly, but she could only assume.
“We need to make a plan.” The group sat and listened to Rysh. “Wayton is lost. I can only assume we are the only ones who made it.” Lori let out a small whimper, trying to hold back tears.
“Did you figure out why this is happening?” Gant asked.
Rysh exchanged a glance with Bors and Mic. They need to know. “Yes, we did. Julia,” Rysh looked to the young girl, hesitant to lay this news on her. “They’re after you.”
Julia jumped in shock. “Me? What did I do? Why are they after me?” She started crying, overwhelmed with guilt.
“You didn’t do anything, Julia,” Rysh said as Gant and Ros moved closer to help console her. “It’s an old feud between King Stowen and your father.”
“My father? I didn’t know Lord Briar knew King Stowen personally.”
There’s no way around this. “Julia, I don’t know how to tell you this.” As Rysh hesitated, Bors jumped in.
“Your father was many things, a great man among them. Long ago he had a feud with King Stowen that has just now come back to life.”
“I . . .” Julia hesitated. “I didn’t know.” She started crying. “It’s my fault they all died!”
“No, it’s not!” Gant held her tight. “They did this, not you!”
“Gant’s right, Julia.” Mic nodded his approval as Rysh spoke. “None of this is your fault.” Rysh looked around the group. Julia was in tears. Gant was consoling her, but he looked concerned. He cared for her, and Rysh knew he would protect her no matter what. Lori avoided his gaze, staring at the ground. Gayle showed signs of pain on his face, and he looked scared, as well. Whether scared for his life or scared for Julia, Rysh didn’t know. Mic was straight-faced as usual, but Rysh knew that he would do what he had to. Rysh couldn’t tell if Bors was going to continue his farce or not.
“All of this is beside the point. We need to get Julia to safety.” Bors spoke up, not as his usual self but as the lord he had revealed to Rysh.
“I agree. Unfortunately, no matter where we go, Julia will not be safe. The Royal Army is after us.” Rysh felt a pang of guilt as he revealed his plan to the group. This is more than I should ask of them. They are risking their lives for this. “I won’t force any of you to come along, but we need to get Julia out of here. We need to take her to Dusseldorf.”
“Dusseldorf?” Gant exclaimed. “That’s absolutely insane. How do you plan on getting there?”
“I know it won’t be easy, but we have to find a way.” Rysh pulled a map out of his pack and laid it in front of the group. “I’ve been trying to think of the best way to get to there. The Skirling Mountains are near impassable, and the number of predators that live in the mountains makes it too dangerous.”
“I agree,” Mic nodded. “That doesn’t give us a lot of options.”
“We could go through the Snowy Sea,” Gant suggested.
“The waters are too dangerous. No sailor in their right mind would make that journey, especially not at this time of the year.” Bors moved closer to the map. “We are going to have to sail around, through the Thoros Sea.”
Rysh nodded in agreement. “It really is the only way that we have a chance.”
“Those are dangerous waters; a lot of pirates prey on small ships. We’re going to need to find a well-armed and large crew to get us across the water.” Mic shook his head.
“We’re going to have to travel to Port Sarim to find one of those.” Rysh studied the map. “But that’s a long way from here.”
“We need to cross almost all of Ansaroth.” Bors put it blatantly for the group.
Julia spoke up for the first time in a while. “You don’t have to do this. Too many people have already died because of me. I don’t want more deaths.”
“No way,” Gant protested. “There’s no way we’re going to let them take you away! We’re your friends, Julia, and friends help each other no matter what.” The fire in Gant’s eyes made Rysh see Gant’s mother more than ever before in his son. Gant and Julia exchanged a quick look.
Rysh continued. “We need to avoid Andarok and Vendos. They house the largest garrison of the Royal Army and pose the biggest threat to us.” Rysh was a natural leader, but strategies were not his strong point. Bors stepped in to help.
“If we make for Rushton, we can find a ferry that should be able take us downriver. Once in the Sapphire Lake, we should try and make our way to Crestbrooke.” Bors’s experience with strategic planning showed.
“That’s going to put us dangerously close to Andarok,” Mic protested.
“Arbor Gold flows east of Andarok along the Ocean Road, with nothing to stop us from reaching Port Sarim. This is the safest, most direct route for us to take.”
“I’m not sure I like being that close to our enemies.” Rysh had his doubts. He needed to keep Julia and Gant out of harm’s way.
Gant looked at his father. “Dad, I think we should do it.” Rysh began to protest, but Gant stopped him. “They would never expect that we’d be that close. As they always say, ‘keep your friends close and your enemies closer.’”
Rysh had to admit, his son had a good point. He was wise for his age, more than Rysh would have guessed. “This isn’t a decision for one of us to make,” he finally said. “It affects us all. Let’s take a vote.” He looked around the group. “Those in favor of Bors’s plan to take a ferry down Rush River and Arbor Gold?” Bors, Gant, Lori, Gayle, and Julia all raised their hands. “Well, it looks like that has been decided.”
The group began to break camp as thunder rumbled in the distance, and Rysh set the others to work. “Gant, can you help Mic make up a stretcher for Gayle? We’re going to have to carry him. Bors, help me and Julia take stock of our supplies. Lori, can you get Gayle ready to travel?”
The group didn’t have much with them. Lori had a small pack with some medical supplies, Gant and Gayle both had basic hunting packs, Mic carried nothing but his axe and his hammer, and Bors had a larger satchel with some basic supplies. Both Julia and Rysh had only what they had on them when the attack started
Mic and Gant made a stretcher in no time, and as the group finished packing up, the storm was closer than Rysh wanted. “We need to get moving. Rushton is three days from here, and this storm could really slow us down.” Rysh and Mi
c carefully transferred Gayle from the ground to the stretcher, and then lifted the stretcher, taking a moment to balance themselves. Gant and Ros led the group, Lori and Julia following close behind. Rysh and Mic with the stretcher were next, with Bors taking up the rear. Five minutes into their journey, the rain started.
They traveled for only a few hours before the downpour forced them to halt for the day. Gant found a small alcove in a rock outcropping where they decided to take shelter. Wet and hungry, Rysh could sense that tension was high among the group and spirits were low.
“Bors, can you get a fire started?” Halfway through their journey Bors had pulled a bottle of rum out of his satchel; with it half gone, he was back to his old self.
“If I had dry wood I could do it, but in case you haven’t noticed, it’s raining outside. Everything is wet!” Bors spat as he spoke.
“I can help you,” Julia volunteered. “I’m sure if we looked under some bushes or larger trees we could find enough dry wood to get a fire going.” She had a smile on her face as she spoke to the drunk.
Out of the corner of his mouth, Rysh could see that Bors was trying to hide a smile. “So be it. C’mon, my lady.” He rose and swayed out of the alcove with Julia.
“Mic, can you keep watch over the others?” Mic nodded. “Gant, come with me.”
“Ros, stay here with Mic,” Gant said. He didn’t ask any questions of his father; he simply rose, grabbed his hunting pack, and followed Rysh into the pouring rain.
Rysh stopped outside to let the rain wash over him. “Dad, I’m scared.” Gant’s eyes were glued to the ground in front of him.
“It’s okay. I am, too.” Rysh patted his son’s shoulder as they made their way into the woods to begin their hunt.
“Are you sure this is the best option? Isn’t Dusseldorf the enemy?” Gant had his bow in hand with an arrow already nocked. He was focused on the hunt, but Rysh knew his mind was racing.
“I wish I could give you a good answer, but I have no idea what the right choice is.” Rysh hated letting his son down. How can I expect him to be strong when I am as lost as he is? “All I know for certain is that I made a promise to Darren and I am going to keep it.”
After a few minutes Gant’s arm flew back as he released an arrow, hitting a squirrel square in the chest. Rysh gathered up the kill as they continued on.
“What do you think of Bors?” Rysh trusted his son’s judgment.
“I don’t know.” Gant drew another arrow as they continued to hunt. “He seems different than he was before.”
So he had noticed it as well. “How so?”
Gant scanned the forest ahead of them. “Well, before, he liked telling stories and singing and he was just kind of rude, but now he seems a little more put together.” His arm released as he saw movement on a branch. Rysh picked up another squirrel as they continued on.
The two didn’t talk much after that, and brought back four squirrels and two rabbits from their hunt. By then, Julia and Bors were sitting around a fire, Bors dramatically telling a story of a white-haired queen who rode dragons. Lori was sitting by a sleeping Gayle, half listening and half lost in her thoughts. Mic was huddled at the edge of the alcove, keeping watch with Ros at his side.
Julia and Bors had managed to find some berries while gathering firewood, so the group enjoyed a meal of berries, squirrel, rabbit, and coffee. As the day turned into night, the rain fell harder and harder, dropping morale quickly. Mic, Bors, and Rysh took turns on watch as they slept fitfully through the night.
The sounds of birds chirping stirred Rysh from his slumber. He stretched as he stood, noticing the rest of the group was still asleep except for Mic. Making his way silently out of the alcove, he couldn’t help but contain his excitement. The sky was clear blue, with a still and calming wind. They could finally continue on their journey.
6
Captain Zaren Kosoth stood by the door, listening to Captain Carn Sharpe give his report of the attack on Wayton, now three days past, to the king. As the head of King Stowen’s Royal Guard, Zaren had learned how to be present without making his presence known.
“Their leader, Lord Briar, came out to meet us, but he denied knowing the girl and wouldn’t hand her over,” Carn said. Zaren grew up in Gold Pass with Carn and they had spent their childhood training together. In the Royal Army they both showed exceptional skill with a scimitar and prowess in battle. Generals in the Royal Army weren’t the best warriors, but were the best strategists, used to oversee the field of battle. The highest honor a skilled warrior could achieve was being elevated to the king’s Royal Guard. Zaren achieved this status, but unfortunately, Carn fell short, instead being promoted to captain and placed in Vendos, the second-largest city in Andarok. It was a position of high esteem, but Zaren knew Carn still held a grudge against his friend for besting him.
“So you thought the best course of action would be to sack the entire town?” General Dorian Tenue was a strategist at heart. He joined the Royal Army as an archer, and using his skills he rose to the rank of general, putting him at King Stowen’s right hand as head of the Royal Army. “That’s a typical mistake of a captain.” He threw his head back and guffawed at Captain Sharpe. Dorian was a slender man with light brown skin, and Zaren knew even if his size was misleading, he was a serious threat to anyone who crossed him.
Lord Winsor Redwind, a small, plump man and lord of Andarok, had a high-pitched voice that always drove Zaren mad. “It seems your feeble mistake has cost us our plan. We can’t move forward without the girl.”
“My Lord, I am sorry for the confusion, but we did not fail in our mission. The girl still lives.” Captain Sharpe stood at attention as he addressed the group sitting around the table.
“How didn’t you fail? The girl isn’t standing before us.” General Tenue threw his arms up in frustration. “Show me the girl and then you will prove you didn’t fail. It’s as simple as that.”
“General, please give him a chance to speak.” Master Udo Puck had lost most of his hair. He had been in service of the king’s family for forty-seven years and had a lot of wisdom to offer. General Tenue didn’t like the older man because he often lost his train of thought and was slow to speak, causing Dorian to lose his patience.
Zaren glanced at Allister Stowen to gauge his reaction to the conversation at hand. King Stowen often let the members of his council converse and offer up their opinions, taking it all in before he came to a decision, a leadership style with which Zaren disagreed.
“If I might interrupt, I believe I can help explain the situation.” Of all the individuals in the meeting room, none was as intimidating as Lady Allison Velmar. Her husband, Lord Rowan had died fourteen years prior in the battle of the Skirling Pass, and since then she had ruled the city of Vendos. It was said she had no fears and that death had tried many times to take her but could not succeed. “Captain Sharpe did not fail, because we know where the girl went. A group of individuals escaped Wayton, and the girl is among them. We have an informant in their midst and we are waiting for them to make contact.” She looked smug. The men in the room hadn’t expected to hear that. You’re never lacking in surprises, Lady Velmar, Zaren thought with reluctant admiration. “If they make contact at the nearest city, we should hear from them within the week.”
“I’ve heard enough.” Allister Stowen’s voice was a commanding one, loud and heavy. When he spoke, crowds grew silent. “Captain Sharpe, thank you for your information. You are dismissed.” Sharpe bowed, and as he left he gave Zaren a quick glance, showing his distaste for his former friend. Good to see you too, old friend. “Everything goes ahead as planned. Lady Velmar, I trust that your informant will deliver the girl to us in a timely manner?”
“We have soldiers throughout the Lakelands. As soon as we hear word, we will have one hundred men surrounding them before they are aware.” Lady Velmar smiled at her brilliant planning.
“Good, onto the next step in our plan.” King Stowen told Zaren, “Bring in our
guests.”
With a quick nod, Zaren exited the small council to a larger room where Lord Bryan Chett of Mohrr sat waiting with a man in a dark gray cloak, his hood up to conceal his face. “They’re ready for you,” Zaren said. The two men rose and entered the room. Zaren followed behind, closing the door after he entered.
“Your Majesty, may I present to you Brother Brandel of the Del Brotherhood,” Lord Chett introduced the guest. Brandel removed his hood, revealing his tattooed face. He was bald, but a dragon and fire were emblazoned upon his scalp. Lifting his arms in greeting revealed even more markings on his hands and arms.
“Your Majesty, I am honored to be in your presence.” Brother Brandel’s voice was smooth and peaceful, causing Zaren’s hair to stand on end.
“Thank you, Lord Chett, you may leave us.” Allister examined Brother Brandel, scrunching his face as he tried to read the man standing before him. “I was told that you received our offer and wanted to negotiate in person. Let’s hear what you have to say.”
“That is correct.” He gestured with his arms as he spoke. “We received your offer and we would like to come to an agreement. I believe we can both benefit from an alliance. However, the Del Brotherhood is not composed of fighters, so we will not be able to support you on that front.”
“Humph,” Dorian Tenue snorted. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Dorian, please refrain from interrupting our guest.” Allister gestured for Brandel to continue.
“As I was saying, we will not be able to help on the front lines, but we have many experienced healers in our midst, so we will be able to support you in other ways.”
“What of the other issue? Can you open your lands to our men?” Lord Redwind reminded Zaren of a squealing pig when he spoke.
“There is a way through the Lost Lands that I can use take a small party into Dusseldorf.” He spoke easily and fluidly. “I have to warn you, it is a treacherous path, so the group can be no more than twenty.”
“Twenty?” Dorian was outraged. “What good are twenty men going to do? We need to send at least two hundred to have the impact we want!”