by Jon Bender
Half sitting, half leaning on an arm to stay upright. Keller released the last bit of magic flowing through him, knowing as he did so that he would not again be able to summon it back. The loss of power, hours of fighting, and now the wound in his side left him feeling drained, but he could not yet stop. Prasil had rolled to his knees and was trying to stand. Keller could hear him struggling for breath which only came in wheezing gasps. Unable to wield magic, he reached out for the lord’s lost sword and slowly stood. Walking unsteadily to the man, he put a boot on the man’s side and pushed. There was no resistance as Prasil rolled to his side still gripping his chest. His face was pale and coated with a sheen of sweat, the vessels in his neck standing out as he tried to breathe, each forced exhale creating bloody froth at the corner of his lips. He had done more harm to the man then he had originally thought.
Using the sword to support his weight, Keller kneeled down next to him holding his side. “Be thankful that you will die here. The Dark God would not have given you such mercy,” he said softly.
Even suffocating, Prasil managed a grim smile. “We still won the night,” he said between gasps and then was gone.
There was no point arguing with a dead man, especially when he was right. Hundreds if not thousands of Or’Keer’s soldiers dead, the wall breached and weakened in several sections, and the majority of those responsible fleeing to safety. They had won, and he had failed. Standing, he moved to the door knowing that even if he was able to catch up to those who had ran, he would never be able to stop them. Still he had to try. His god would demand nothing less. Those responsible for the catastrophe must be brought to justice. It was even likely that Keller would be punished as well for letting it happen.
In the hall, he heard shouting echoing down the walls. He could also feel that Hailey was in that direction. Unable to manage much more than a tumbling walk, each jolting step sending waves of pain up through his side, he moved back toward the undercity entrance. Prasil’s sword was heavy and he considered dropping it to move faster. It was a brutish weapon, but at the moment the only form of defense he had. Coming around the corner, the scene that was laid out before him was not what he had expected. Hailey stood blocking Marish, Fulvia, and the unknown man’s path. Her curved blade was held out easily before her, though she made no move to advance further. Marish stood closest to her, brandishing his own stolen blade. Unable to help, all Keller could do was place a hand on the wall for support and watch the traitors receive the rightful justice.
“I can’t let you go,” Hailey hissed, her voice now fully holding the dark undertone of the faithful.
“I know who you are, and you know Fulvia,” the unknown man said. “She respected you. Are you willing to let them continue what has already been done and then execute her publicly?”
“Because of her, I had no choice but to become this,” Hailey spat, the anger and disgust in her voice reflected through the bond.
“Please. It’s already over. What are three more lives on the mound of all those Or’Keer has already slaughtered. Let us go,” he begged, even as he leaned the woman he carried against the wall and freed his blade.
Even without his magically enhanced vision, he could see Hailey look upon Fulvia. A wash of regret and sorrow flowed across the bond, the sight of her friend, now a husk of her former self, swaying her determination and loyalty. He could see that he was losing her and had to act.
“Kill them now,” he shouted.
Marish spun about, and the man’s face visibly paled at seeing Keller. The unknown man looked over his shoulder to meet Keller’s eyes. He must have determined that Keller was no longer a threat. Why else would they still be alive?
“We didn’t do this to you. He and his god did. We are the ones trying to stop them. Can’t you see that?” the man said.
The regret she felt changed to doubt with the man’s words. Keller couldn’t let this person sway her. He was no longer concerned about the fate of the traitors, but Hailey’s. For a faithful to betray their god meant a lifetime of torment that not even her former friend had experienced.
“You have your sworn yourself to Or’Keer. Your life is his,” he said, instantly knowing it was not what she needed to hear. The bond was soon awash in anger, helplessness, and humiliation.
Hailey looked at him with resolve, and he knew he had lost her. She slid her blade back into its sheath and stood straight. “My life has always been my own, and I will not surrender it to one who cares nothing for it.”
“Thank you,” the unknown traitor said, then turned to face Keller. Keller pushed off from the wall and tried to raise the sword. His arms would not respond and the blade hit the stone floor with a clang. He prepared himself for death, knowing he would not be able to stop the man. He thought it nothing less than he deserved.
“No!” Hailey shouted. “He lives or I will not help you.”
The man continued to stare at Keller with his blade held low. “If we don’t, he will recover and come after us. It is better to end the threat now while we can.”
“I will not allow it,” Hailey replied slowly, her voice laced with threat.
Keller did not know if her refusal to let the man kill him was because it would also mean her death, or because she did feel something for him. Or’Keer’s own words had told them that her life was tied to him, his death would be her death. He hoped it was the latter, but suspected it was likely a combination of both.
The man stood still for a second longer before sheathing his blade and returning to Fulvia. Pulling her arm over his shoulder, he started down the hall and past Hailey. Marish still faced Keller and backed away slowly. When they disappeared around the corner, Keller looked at Hailey hoping that she would come to understand what she was doing and stop. Before she turned away from him, the bond told him all he needed to know – she was sorry. Then she too was gone.
He could pursue them, but would never be able to make it through the undercity without her guidance. Not that he would even be able to keep up as exhausted as he was. Instead, he fell back against the wall and slid to the floor. Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes. He side was aflame and all he wanted was to sleep. There was no point in receiving Or’Keer’s judgment tired. As he drifted, the cold of the stone seeped into him, or maybe it was the heat of his body that was soaking into the stone. Either way, he no longer cared.
Chapter 13
There was no need for them to continue following behind the shade. Harlow knew his way through the undercity as well as anyone, but did not like the idea of having the Dark God’s deadly weapon behind them while he still carried Fulvia. She had not spoken a word since they had retrieved her from that cell, her eyes did not even seem to recognize what was happening. It was like the essence of who she was had been stripped away. He only hoped they could find some way to bring her back.
Every so often he would catch sight of the multitude of scars through her tattered clothing, and his grip on her would tighten, as if he could somehow undo what she had endured if he held her close enough. Again, he regretted not killing the shadow mage, and again he considered handing Fulvia to Marish and going back to finish the job. The bastard was obviously in no condition to fight and would be taken easily. For the third time, he suppressed the urge. Fulvia’s former leader would not allow it, and might even kill them should he try. He did not understand why she had not ended the mage herself after siding with them. Whatever her reasoning, he had to accept getting away with their lives, even if it was only a half victory. Their almost complete failure this night was more than he could bear. With so many of their people dead and the wall not destroyed beyond repair, all their careful planning had been for nothing. If he had been able to kill the shadow mage, it would have at least balanced the scales somewhat.
Looking over his shoulder, he saw Marish doing the same, the merchant peering into the gloom beyond the light of the torch he carried. The man was afraid that the mage would be following them, but Harlow knew better from what he h
ad seen in the hall. Turning back, he looked ahead to see the familiar carved tunnels that would lead them well beyond the city.
“What are you going to do now?” he called out to the shade. He could barely make out her cloaked form, but saw her jerk at the question.
“I don’t know,” she said.
The sound of her voice made the small hairs on his arm stand up. “Why didn’t you kill him? You know what he is and what he does to those who won’t worship his god, otherwise you would never have helped us. Why not end his life to save hundreds if not thousands of others?”
She waited many seconds before responding, her voice softer and sounding almost human. “He is not what you think, at least not completely.”
Harlow didn’t believe a word of it and stared hard into her back. Even with everything he had lost, he could not allow his anger to override good sense. She may not be willing to kill the mage, but could still make a valuable ally. Antagonizing her on a subject he didn’t think she would change her mind about was not a wise idea. Especially when they still had to outrun the pursuit that was sure to follow.
He let the matter go and continued the rest of the trek in silence. It wasn’t much longer until they emerged in to a small wooded area. The moon was low in the sky and the cool evening wind washed over him. The smell of earth and grass helped to wash away the smell of blood and smoke that seemed to cling to his clothes. Through the trees he could see the breach in the wall and the orange glow of the fires that still burned in the city.
Adjusting Fulvia’s arm into a more comfortable position, Harlow froze and looked at her. She was staring up the star filled sky. It was the first sign of life from her that he had seen. He used his hand to guide her face back to his. For a moment he saw something there, then it was gone. Still, it was enough for him to hope that she could come back to him.
He took the lead as they walked into the night. If the shade was going to kill them, she already had had ample opportunity to do so. He was not so trusting of her that he hadn’t considered the possibility she was there to track down the others using Harlow. It could be that she and the shadow mage had planned the whole thing, but there was nothing he could do to test that theory at the moment. For now, he would let her tag along until he could find help. If it turned out she was there to cause them further harm, he would deal with it then.
Dawn was creeping up over the horizon to their left, the light making it easier to see where he was going. He had kept them over a mile away from the road, traveling through fields of uncut grain and staying hidden in trees where they could. The shade had pulled her hood lower to hide her face from the growing light. By now he had expected to see patrols of calvary searching for them, but none had shown themselves. Not about to question their good luck, he took them to the road where they made better time. By the afternoon he could see a walled town and took them well out of its path. Soon they were traveling along a path cut by decades of wagon wheels from farmers bringing their harvest to markets. It was the second farm they came to that he headed for the stand of buildings in the distance.
Coming up to the main house, they were greeted by an older man with short, white hair and a face lined with wrinkles. The man’s name was Kobin, and Harlow had recruited the farmer himself to hide their people or supplies. The old farmer was joined by three of his men paid to work the land. They approached them openly until seeing the shade for what she was. Kobin pulled a small hatchet from his belt as his men hefted other farm implements defensively. Harlow knew he was putting these people at risk if the shade turned out to be a spy, but he had no other option if was going to get Fulvia safely away.
“Master Harlow,” Kobin said, his voice quavering slightly. “We got word that there was fighting in the city, but didn’t know what to do.”
Harlow passed Fulvia to Marish grateful to be relieved of her weight and moved closer. He stopped at seeing how truly on edge the shade had made the man. “There is no need to worry, Kobin. This one helped us to escape and won’t harm you. Now we need your help. We have attacked the city and weakened its defenses, but have to get away as quickly as possible.”
Kobin finally shifted his eyes to Harlow and nodded. “Well I hope you killed thousands of those swine, and of course we will help you. Let’s get you inside so Rishian can feed and tend to you. Eldin, go get a wagon and two horses ready, make sure they have enough supplies for a week. Quin, Delvin, help get the woman inside.”
As the farm hands moved to do as they were told, Kobin came up and offered his hand in friendship. “I knew that we had people within the ranks of Or’Keer’s worshipers, but I never imagined that one of her kind was with us.”
Harlow sighed in relief. He had no idea what he would have done if Kobin had refused to help. “It’s a long story, and not one I can share with you safely.”
Kobin nodded in understanding. “I know. Let’s get inside.”
The farmer had baths poured for them and simple clothes that would help them blend in as they traveled south. Kobin’s wife Rishian, a woman with long hair matching the color of her husband’s, offered to wash and dress Fulvia. She seemed genuinely concerned at discovering Harlow was not her husband, her sense of propriety bringing a small grin to Harlow’s lips. After all they had been through, he found it funny to be concerned over something as insignificant as nudity. When he had washed and dressed, he found Marish at the table eating. Fulvia was also sitting at the table staring off into nothing as Rishian gently poured broth into her mouth. The sight reminded him that he had not eaten for nearly a day himself. He also needed to sleep, but that would have to wait until they were further away.
Rishian stopped feeding Fulvia and placed a hot plate of food in front of him with a smile. “I don’t know what happened to her, but you will have to care for her… needs, once you leave here,” she said through an indignant moan.
Harlow smiled and nodded. He knew that having Fulvia along was not going to make their trip any easier, but he would not leave her. He was only half way through his food when the front door slammed closed. Harlow reached for his sword at the unexpected sound, releasing it only when Kobin walked into the dining room and sat down across from him.
“Everything is ready for you to go,” the older man said.
Harlow gave him a grateful look. “Thank you. Your help is likely saving our lives.”
“I wish I could do more. Is there anything you can tell me? So I know what to expect.”
Keller saw no harm in telling him some of what had happened. He would learn of most of it as word spread from Karadin. He laid out the attack, what the plan had been, and how successful they had been at accomplishing it. The last part Harlow was more reluctant in sharing. He even told the man about going into to the temple to rescue Fulvia, to which Kobin gave a low whistle of amazement.
“What about our people?” Kobin asked. “Do you know how many made it?”
Harlow set down his fork. “I don’t know, but Whisper is gone. He died fighting a shadow mage.”
He had not given Lord Prasil a thought since fleeing the temple. He had been so angry at him, thinking the man could have done so much more with his position. Harlow had wanted to kill him after he had demanded they leave Fulvia behind if she slowed them down. Then he had bought them time to escape by taking on a mage alone, a selfless and courageous act of sacrifice. The whole experience left Harlow conflicted. Perhaps Prasil could have done more as the lord of Karadin, or perhaps he had done all he could. All Harlow knew was that when the time came, he had given his life to save theirs.
Kobin’s eyes had gone wide at hearing their leader was dead, a man often idolized by those who obeyed him without ever knowing who he was. “Then it’s over,” he said.
“No, it’s not over. There are still hundreds of us, and the alliance from the west is on its way. It will never be over until Or’Keer and all those who follow him are wiped from the fifteen kingdoms.” He could feel that his features had hardened into a scowl matching the ton
e of his voice and regretted the harshness of his words once they had been spoken. Kobin was not at fault for his failings and the uncertainties of the future they had created.
The older man, however, did not take his words as a rebuke. He sat straighter and squared his shoulders. “You’re right. You are still here, as am I. What should I do now?”
Harlow had not expected the question. He hadn’t considered the fact that some of those dedicated to Or’Keer’s fall wouldn’t be leaving. People like Kobin and those on his farm would stay and be able to continue fighting back. What they needed was guidance on how to do so. “Do as you have been doing. There will be hundreds of our people and their families going south. Most will have already passed by here, but some may still be coming. Help them how you can, but you must be careful. Some may be spies trying to hunt us down.”
Kobin nodded firmly, his posture showing confidence now that he had a purpose. “We will. And I will be waiting for your return so that I can host you properly. For now, you should be on your way. There is still plenty of light left for you to put some distance behind you.”
He was right. Just because Karadin had yet to send out patrols, did not mean they wouldn’t do so. Standing, he offered his hand to Kobin who shook it firmly. The wagon was just outside the house with supplies already loaded in the back. The shade was standing in the deepest shadow of the house, her black cloak replaced with dark brown. As before, her hood was drawn low to hide her face. With Kobin’s help, they laid Fulvia in the back and Marish climbed up to keep an eye on her.