by Megan Derr
"Marvelous," Sule said, scowling. "Get me up." Cemal carefully helped him stand, then Sule pushed him away—and swayed so suddenly on his feet he nearly toppled, saved only by colliding against Cemal's chest.
Another arm slid around his waist and dragged his good arm up to rest across shoulders. He looked up at Mahzan, who settled him as comfortably as possible even as he once more gained control of Sule's pain. He looked paler than ever, but Sule did not mention it. "This Oath is going to be the death of me," he said instead.
"I feel there will be four corpses by the end of it all," Mahzan agreed as they began slowly to walk, Cemal in front of them, Binhadi behind. More quietly, he added, "I am sorry."
"Dragon eat you," Sule said wearily. "Learn to stay out of the way, even when fighting other mages. Non-combative mages stay in the rear, that's one of the first rules of combat."
Mahzan rolled his eyes. "I am not a soldier. How would I know your stupid rules? And I told you, I tried."
"Shut up," Binhadi said, "Or I swear I will knock the both of you out and tie you to your saddles indefinitely."
"Yes, mother," Sule and Mahzan said together, then frowned at each other.
Ahead of them, Cemal laughed and looked over his shoulder, "Be good, children."
"If I had a hand free, I would be making a very crude gesture at you right now," Sule retorted. He sighed and added, "I would give anything for a good ale right now."
"I will buy you one when next we stop in a town," Mahzan said, looking increasingly exhausted as they slowly trekked through the woods. Minutes felt like hours, and it felt like an eternity before they finally emerged from the woods and stepped back onto the road.
Their horses stood in a loose circle, well away from the seven bodies. Sule noted dispassionately that the mind mage had finally ceased twitching. For all intents and purposes he was dead, though it was possible his heart still beat.
Beside him, Mahzan made a rough sound. "I did not mean to break him."
"If you had not broken him, they would have killed us," Sule said sharply. "You will face worse as we go on. First rule of combat: kill when necessary, accept it was necessary, and move on. No good comes from dwelling."
Mahzan said nothing, and Sule was too exhausted to keep at him. Dragon spare him from ever getting Oathbound to non-combatants ever again.
They finally stopped in front of Sule's horse. "That saddle looks very far away," Mahzan said.
Sule grunted in agreement, but slowly pulled from Mahzan's hold and made to climb into the saddle, bracing himself for the agony that would ensue. He paused as he caught Binhadi's frown. "I'll be fine."
"I'll ride with him," Mahzan said, and Sule realized they all thought he could not stay in the saddle.
"I do not require—"
"You require a beating," Binhadi snapped. "I will not tolerate this obnoxious bravado. Neither one of you is fit to so much as feed yourself."
Mahzan bristled beside Sule. "I am perfectly fine—I had more trouble when I brought down half the castle on that fearmonger!"
"You got into a battle with a mind mage and broke him, you were dragged through the woods, you are bleeding and possibly concussed, and you lifted Sule out of that well. Not to mention you've been blocking his pain all this time," Cemal interjected. "You are not fit to ride alone, never mind ride with Sule."
"Exactly," Binhadi said. "I will ride with Sule. Cemal will ride with Mahzan. Cemal, the horses." He did not give anyone a chance to argue with him, only strode off to examine all the bodies, relieving them of anything small and useful, tucking it all away in his robes and pack. Then he strode to where Sule stood by his horse and slowly helped him mount.
When Sule was secured, Binhadi swung up behind him. For a man who seemed so frigid, he was remarkably warm. They waited, Sule not entirely awake, as Cemal finished securing the rider-less horses to the other two.
Finished, Cemal helped Mahzan up and then mounted behind him. When they all seemed settled, Binhadi nodded and they rode off.
Silence reigned for several long minutes before Sule finally said, "Weren't you the one who said we could handle a few bandits, shadow mage?"
"I said we could handle them so long as we worked together," Binhadi said, voice level but with all the force of a dragon behind it.
Sule grunted, and said nothing more.
DEBT
Cemal could have wept with relief when he heard voices—laughing, talking, making merry, fellow travelers who could hopefully provide assistance. Sule was in a bad way, and Mahzan was little better, no matter how loudly he protested.
They were all a mess, really. What should have been an easy fight had instead proven to be a disaster, and there was no point in denying it. How were they going to face a traitorous prince, never mind the fires-cursed fearmonger, when they could not even stop a small group of bandits?
He grimaced at the blood staining his gloves; he would never enjoy the sight of blood. Shield he may be, but he was a priest first—at least, he had always tried to be one, to the best of his abilities, while he used the priesthood to travel the kingdom in search of his prey. Violence was a necessary evil in life, even killing could be necessary, but he preferred to avoid doing either if he could avoid, especially in the aftermath of the only murder he'd ever wanted to commit.
Today made three lives in total that he had taken. He wished he was not so certain he would be taking many more before the journey ended.
Cemal shook the gloomy thoughts off as they drew closer to the voices, sharing a look with Binhadi, who only nodded that it was probably safe to approach. They were still a couple of days from the next city, but campgrounds abounded, set up to make traveling a bit easier for those who had no choice but to brave the roads.
The conversation lapsed as the men gathered around the fire saw them and turned wary. There appeared to be half a dozen or so, another figure out of the immediate circle of the fire who seemed to be tending their horses. Mercenaries, by the look of them, the sort often hired by merchants, and other sufficiently wealthy travelers, to protect their costly cargo from one city to another.
One of the men rose and stepped forward, extending one hand out, palm up, in greeting. "Hail, travelers."
Cemal returned the gesture. "Hail, travelers. Might we share your fire?"
"Be welcome," the man replied, and motioned for the others to make room. As they drew close, Cemal neatly dismounted, then reached up and helped Mahzan down. "Try to behave for a little while, hmm?"
Mahzan grumbled something indistinct but unmistakably rude, making Cemal smile briefly. He settled Mahzan at the fire, then went to help Binhadi with Sule, who had fallen unconscious almost immediately after they had started riding and had drifted in and out throughout their too-slow journey.
They had just settled Sule as best they could when a soft, husky voice from behind them said, "The road has not been kind to you." Cemal turned, startled to hear a woman's voice. He was further surprised to see how young she was—young women did not travel, not without good cause, and usually that cause was dire or depressing.
There were lines in her face, shadows in her eyes that no young woman should possess—except those eyes were indigo, and those who possessed indigo eyes aged quickly, for the burden of healing was not a light one.
She was beautiful, with black-brown skin, a thick and heavy build, dressed in brown leather breeches and a dull green tunic embroidered with white flowers. Her hair was a vibrant red, pulled back in a tidy knot—but one strip of it, on the right side of her head, was silver. It was the oddest thing Cemal had ever seen. Her nose had the look of having been broken at least once before, and a bruise marred her left jaw.
Her smile was stunning as she knelt beside him and Sule. "I'm a healer. Do you mind if I examine them?"
"My lady, you're a gift from the Dragon," Binhadi said.
Her mouth quirked at the words, but she didn't reply, only set to work examining first Sule, and then Mahzan.
"
Do you think you'll be able to help them?" Cemal asked.
She nodded, and Cemal slumped in relief. Even Binhadi, reserved as ever, seemed relieved at her words.
"Build up that fire," she said over her shoulder to the group of men. "Here, get all this off him, I need the arm bare." She did not wait for them to act, but drew her own dagger and neatly cut away Sule's clothes and Cemal's dressing to free his arm. "Impressive break. Whatever happened to the lot of you?"
"Bandits," Binhadi said, "and an old well we didn't know was there until he fell down it."
The woman made a noise of sympathy. "Can you help me lay him down?"
Binhadi nodded, and together he and Cemal lay Sule down, using Sule's torn and dirty cloak to cushion his head. Cemal reached out and absently rubbed away a smudge of dirt on Sule's cheek, hating the ashy pallor of his face when normally Sule was remarkably vibrant and expressive for someone who had become a Compass Captain at so young an age. "Need you additional energy?" Binhadi asked, dragging Cemal from his strange thoughts.
Shaking her head, the woman replied, "No. The break is bad, but it's work I'm familiar with, so my own should be more than sufficient. But I thank you for the offer." She smiled warmly at them, then asked, "What is his name?"
"Sule," Cemal answered.
Looking down at him, the woman rested a hand on his cheek and said, "Sule, sweet boy, when you wake you will be as good as you were." Falling silent, she focused on her healing, shifting to lay one hand on his chest over his heart, and the other on his broken arm. Her eyes glowed brilliant indigo, eerie and beautiful in the growing dark.
Cemal watched her in fascination. Healing was a rare gift, and all healers were overworked because of it. Finding one was hard, which made the chance to see one at work even rarer. It was also a dangerous art, more so than most other forms of magic, because healers literally poured their life energy into others to repair a wound or cure illness. When someone was grievously injured or sick, it was too easy for a healer to lose track of their own life energy.
History was rife with tragic tales of healers who had sacrificed themselves to save others, or healers forced to let loved ones die because the healer's life was considered more important. There were also tales of healers who had taken the energy of others in order to save someone. The third King of Orhanis had been fatally wounded in battle; in order to save him, the royal healer used the life energies of two soldiers, and a large measure of her own.
But the king had lived and gone on to be one of the greatest monarchs in the country. Some said it was because he had the vitality of three other people inside him. It reminded Cemal of the royal healer they had found dead in the woods. Who would be so desperate, so cruel, to kill such a valuable resource, on top of being despicable enough to murder to begin with?
Murder solved nothing; he knew that better than anyone.
"There," the woman said, drawing Cemal from his thoughts. She smiled warmly, though she looked far more tired than she already had. "His arm will be sore for a few days, and always a little stiff, but he will be able to use it fully."
Binhadi reached out and lightly touched her shoulder. "Thank you. We are grateful to have come across you, and appreciate your help."
"La la la," the woman said, dismissing his words. "I am happy I could help. My name is Malea. I have met the fine Sule, now who are the rest of you handsome fellows? This one looks rather the worse for wear himself."
"I am Binhadi, he is Cemal," Binhadi replied, and then pointed, "and that is Mahzan. He was the one who got Sule out of the well, but at great cost."
Mahzan looked up briefly, and managed to smile the barest bit. Malea clucked her tongue and moved over to him. She touched the back of her hand to his forehead, clucking again. "You've been overtaxed, Mahzan. What happened to you lot? Bandits, you said? Bandits and a well would certainly tax even a good mind mage, but he seems strained past even that."
"The bandits were nastier than anticipated," Cemal replied. "They had a mind mage, a water mage… and to be honest, there was a third, but I do not know that I caught his powers. Mahzan expended most of his energy taking care of the other mind mage. Then one of the remaining bandits grabbed Mahzan and bolted, and Sule chased after them. Mahzan was knocked out, and Sule and the bandit went down the well."
The mercenaries laughed, sneering at them. "Disgraceful. Have you never left the walls of the Heart, to be so easily routed by mere bandits?"
"I know how to use my sword," Cemal replied, in the tone of a priest punishing unruly acolytes. "I have blood on my hands, and it was blood I spilled on purpose. Not even the Great Dragon won every battle. Arrogance and assumption are the purview of fools. Hold your tongues unless you want to lose them."
Startled by his vehemence, the mercenaries fell silent—but then one finally scowled and made to speak. He was stopped by Malea's tinkling laughter. "Only old men and priests rattle off proverbs," she said, winking. "You are clearly no old man, but you do have the feel of a priest."
"He is a Shield," Binhadi said. "We travel in the name of the king."
Malea looked at him reprovingly. "You will not be traveling in his name, or at all, if you do not take better care of one another. You should rest here a couple of days, and rest for a few days more when you reach a proper town. Mahzan is dangerously depleted, though I will help him as best I can. Falling down a well… I would need a few days to recover from that, even if I had not broken my arm."
Cemal smiled. "I will do my best to see your advice is followed, milady, but it is the injured parties who will staunchly refuse to follow it."
"I'm fine," Mahzan said irritably. "I am no child to need several days rest simply because I overtaxed myself."
"La la la," Malea replied tartly, and cradled his head in her hands, eyes glowing as she healed him. "Isn't that always the way with men. Hush, now."
To Cemal's surprise, Mahzan obeyed, eyes slipping shut as the healing energies washed over him. When Malea finally finished, he slumped over, dead asleep. Cemal moved forward and caught him, dragging him over to lay him down next to Sule.
"Come, have some tea," Malea said. "Tell us some news of the Heart. We passed through Tooth two weeks ago, but did not have time to travel to the Heart. I would have liked to see it, but we could only leave our representatives behind for the census before heading out."
Anguish swept through Cemal, sharp and cold. He shared a look with Binhadi.
"What's wrong?" Malea asked, and around her the other men had fallen silent. Cemal took the cups of tea she held out and handed one to Binhadi.
It was finally Binhadi who broke the awful silence by saying, "I am sorry, milady, good fellows, to be the bearer of bad tidings. A week and a half ago, a fearmonger attacked the Heart and left it in ruins."
Malea gasped and covered her mouth with both hands, tears spilling down her cheeks.
"Fires!" one of the mercenaries exclaimed. "That isn't possible! No fearmonger could just destroy all of the Heart! Not just one!"
"The king?" another asked. "You said you were traveling in his name, so I hope that means he is alive?"
"His Majesty is safe," Cemal replied, "and secreted away until the fearmonger is destroyed and the one who commanded it killed."
Malea wiped tears from her face. "That's your king's business, isn't it? Oh, mercy of the Dragon, the Heart…. My mother's family lived there! My cousins! The people we sent for the census were old friends." She knelt on the ground and quietly wept. Binhadi gave his tea back to Cemal, so abruptly that Cemal almost dropped it. He strode to Malea and knelt beside her, pulling her close.
Dumbfounded, Cemal could only stare. He had only known Binhadi a short time, and it was true that none of them was at their best under the trying circumstances—but still he was certain such a display of kindness was unusual.
He sat amongst the mercenaries and drank his tea. The band rippled with magic, though not with much strength. They seemed only to be token wielders, rather than true battle mag
es as he and Sule were… well, were meant to be. Sule had certainly handled himself well, once the mind mage had been taken care of by Mahzan.
Cemal played over the fight as best he could remember it, from the moment they had engaged—to the very next moment when everything had gone wrong. They had fought like four separate people, not like a team, and he was not certain if they could ever change that. The only thing they seemed to have in common was that each preferred to work alone.
He looked at Sule and Mahzan stretched out next to each other, dead to the world, and frowned pensively. They were not a team, but… Mahzan had risked his own mental well-being to pull Sule from the well. Sule had run after him. When it had mattered most…
And they were all old enough they should be acting like adults. Cemal sighed. Maybe they would eventually learn to cooperate; only the Great Dragon knew for certain.
"So the Heart really is gone?" one the mercenaries asked, the rough edges of his voice making it clear he wanted badly to cry himself but would not.
Cemal drew himself from his own selfish thoughts and focused on what he should be doing—comforting. "Yes, I am sorry. I was there when it attacked. The four of us, we drove the fearmonger back, but too late. I do not know if there are other survivors."
"We had wanted to go the Heart, but bad weather slowed us down, so…" another mercenary said. "That means…" He fell silent and drained his cup, and the already grim silence around the fire deepened as the realization sunk in.
"So where are you traveling?" Cemal asked, trying to take their minds off it for a time.
The one who seemed to be in charge grunted and threw a twig into the fire. "The woman hired us to help her expel some criminals from her town. Easy enough work, especially for what she is paying."
"Criminals?" Cemal asked sharply. "What town? How bad is it that she would travel months to obtain mercenaries to deal with them?"
It was Malea who replied, "If I did not go farther afield for help, then I could not be certain the help I hired was not in Dree's pocket. He is the one in charge of the bastards poisoning my home, and I swear he has the blood of monsters, the odious bastard. I hired these men to kill him and his crew once and for all."