"What happened?"
Balthus sighed and nodded towards the tavern. "We killed three of those inside. Four escaped us."
"Escaped?"
"One of them did this" Balthus pointed to his scar. "Your soldiers were of no use. They allowed them to escape."
"Where are my soldiers?" asked Draliak.
"I sent them after those four Rotians."
Draliak shook his head. "What will Sephonis say to you when he sees that wound?"
"He will say I was foolish for engaging in combat, but this wound proves nothing. It was a lucky strike from one who will soon be dead and is of no consequence."
Draliak took a deep breath. "The first stage is completed, Balthus. Let's hope they fared as well in Boraila."
"With Sephonis there, they will not fail."
"I know they will not fail, but Boraila is a city, not a town. By now, our ships should have docked there. We will hear from Sephonis soon enough I expect."
Balthus looked down at one of the dead Barentin guardsmen lying in the mud. "Do we return to camp?"
"We return to camp tonight with the captured Rotians, then at first light tomorrow we leave for Tamriel."
"Tamriel? Another town?" Balthus was less than enthusiastic.
"To the west, yes." Draliak moved away towards his waiting steed. "We will repeat this victory there and take more Rotians. Eventually, when we continue west, we join up with Sephonis and the rest of the men in Boraila. Then he can put these Rotians on ships and sail them back to Shada-Kaviel for…whatever purpose he has in mind." He swung up into the saddle with ease and wheeled his horse around.
"Where are you going now, commander?" called Balthus. "The battle is won."
Draliak smiled. "I said I wanted to look down on this town after we were victorious. I'm riding back to the hill overlooking Barentin."
As he rode away, Balthus put one hand up to his face and traced the line of his wound with one finger. He did not react to the discomfort it caused. He cursed his arrogance in underestimating these Rotians. After all, they were like trapped animals, more dangerous when cornered. In Tamriel, he would not make the same mistake again.
Chapter 9
Two days and two nights passed by agonizingly slowly.
The rain fell for nearly the entire day after the destruction of Barentin, causing the Ulmerien to swell. If the weather had not cleared on the second morning, then the banks would surely have burst and flooded the land nearby. For this, the four rotians who had hidden so close to the great river were thankful.
They were cold, hungry and completely confused by the events that had transpired in Barentin. The invading force had struck so quickly and so precisely that hardly any of the townsfolk had escaped. Several joined these four, but had left their company on the second afternoon to get away from what was left of the trade town of Barentin.
It seemed so surreal now.
"We need to move away from the river," exclaimed Varayan, sweeping his hand outwards towards the eerily quiet Ulmerien.
Gorric stood staring back to the east, his thoughts plagued with images of what fate had befallen his father. He had hardly uttered two words since they left the town.
After their encounter with the attackers behind the tavern, they had fled through the dark alleys until they neared the docks. From there, they moved unseen in the shadows, avoiding patrols of the foreign soldiers. They had found two families shivering in fright, clutching food and any possessions they could grab before the invaders arrived, and had taken them along. Eventually, they had escaped the town and made their way along the edge of the Ulmerien, aiming to find the shelter of woods. They had left the town behind, occasionally looking back at the burning buildings sending plumes of black smoke into the air.
Now, the four men rested in a secluded copse just east of where the river forked.
"It's dangerous here," said Varayan to the others. "Those riders we saw yesterday were moving south. I'd be willing to wager that they were heading to the bridge."
"What if they were?" asked Rynn, sighing. It had taken most of the first day for Rynn to regain the feeling in his limbs properly after being struck by the strange dagger wielded by the foreign magic-user. However, he had not forgotten that Varayan had, for some reason, saved his life. Rynn was bemused by the fact that he owed his life to a thief.
Varayan glanced back at Rynn, who sat against a narrow tree. "These men that attacked Barentin obviously didn't want people escaping across the river."
"So the riders were going to watch that nobody tried to do so," nodded the acolyte, looking out at the flowing waters nearby.
Khir looked across at his quiet friend and felt the pain that Gorric must have been experiencing, leaving his father in Barentin fighting a battle which could not be won. He doubted that Celestius was alive now, but it was not something he intended mentioning. "Gorric?"
"What is it?" Gorric asked, his voice distant.
"What do you say? Shall we leave the river's edge?"
Gorric slowly turned and the others could see the dark rings beneath his eyes. He looked almost ready to drop where he stood. "Varayan's right," he mumbled. "They could have riders looking up and down the Ulmerien at this very moment. We are in no fit state to face them, so it's best if we head northwest."
At this, Varayan frowned. "Northwest? What would be the point? There is only another bridge in that direction, probably guarded also."
Gorric nodded. "Yes, I know. We have to head back to Tamriel."
"I agree," said Khir, liking the sound of returning home after such an ordeal. "But how do we get across the bridge if it's guarded."
"We wait until nightfall and then go under it." Gorric swayed slightly.
"Under it?" cried Varayan. "Swim the Ulmerien? Are you insane? The current would sweep us away and we'd drown. Wonderful plan, Gorric."
"I don't hear you coming up with one," Khir snapped.
"No, he's right, Khir," sighed Gorric, putting one hand to his head. "I'm not thinking clearly. That would be suicide." For a moment, he stood silent, listening to the river running alongside him, then he continued. "We need to judge what we're dealing with. We'll make our way to the bridge and arrive at nightfall, so as to get a good view of the defenses there."
Varayan shrugged. "I don't like the idea of crossing any bridge, but you can try if you like."
Rynn looked up at the thief. "What do you intend to do then?"
"On my own, I reckon I can reach Naskador…or even go across the border into Morassia." He glanced at the others, to see their reaction.
"It would be foolish to split up now," said Gorric. "We need to be able to help each other, at least until we reach Tamriel. Once there, you can go one way" - He pointed a finger at Varayan - "and we can go another."
"I need to return to Boraila," Rynn stated. "I must tell Ranesch of Forven's death." Images of Forven's murdered body flashed into his head and he groaned, wishing that they would stop tormenting him.
"Then you need to come with us," Gorric told the acolyte. He turned to face Varayan. "So do you. We had our differences back in Barentin, but now we need each other to survive."
"You were ready to turn me into the guards," Varayan reminded him. "Why should I help you?"
Gorric's shoulders sagged. "Please yourself, but you know that I'm right about this."
Khir walked to the edge of the copse and peered out across the grassland to the east. In the distance, he spotted movement along the horizon line. "Gorric, there are riders."
Gorric spun on his heel, nearly overbalancing, and moved to his friend's side. "Where?"
"They are moving west at a fair speed. I can't tell how many. At this distance, they appear and disappear too frequently for me to judge."
"Then we should head for the bridge now." Gorric turned again and the whole world suddenly slid sideways.
Khir heard his friend fall and was immediately at his side. "Gorric?" he cried, worried that the large man had sustained some in
jury they had not noticed before.
Rynn moved to crouch next to him and leant down close. "He sleeps," said the acolyte. "I think the trauma of the last few days has finally caught up with him. We should make him comfortable, or at least as well as we can."
As Rynn began dragging Gorric nearer to a tree, Khir moved to help. He glanced at Rynn and smiled slightly. He did not know the acolyte, but the encounter with the attackers had left Rynn troubled. Seeing Forven killed and being wounded by the magic-user were two experiences that no other Rotian had endured, yet Rynn's mind seemed focused now on helping Gorric and he set about it with great enthusiasm.
"Do you plan on helping?" Khir asked Varayan, seeing the thief watching them struggle to move Gorric's heavy frame.
For a moment, Varayan continued to watch. Then, with a soft groan, he moved to help them.
Saroth glanced to the northwest, along the narrow road that led to Boraila. The road ran in a relatively straight path to the port city, splitting at the base of the distant hill. One trail ran around the base of the hill, reaching the southern gate to the city, whilst the other trail was much narrower and wound it's way up the hillside, eventually arriving at a place where one could look down over the entire port.
Two days ago, he had sighted three rotians on the road, fleeing their homes after the sudden invasion from Shada-Kaviel. His orders were very clear. He was to watch this road and prevent any Rotians who had escaped the invasion from reaching the fortress, Turambar. His position was such that he could easily see along the road and the surrounding countryside, giving him the ability to spot anyone before the lookouts at Turambar did.
In a few more days, Commander Draliak and his contingent would arrive at Boraila from the east and would join forces with those in the port. With him would be a number of Rotian prisoners, who would be placed on ships and sent back to Shada-Kaviel. Never again would they see their homeland.
The next stage would then be the taking of Turambar. This would give them a firm grip on the northern lands of the kingdom and would mean that their ships could sail up the river and along to the city of Naskador. Saroth could not see the city being a major problem, as it seemed to have its own internal issues also to distract them from outside attack. The information Talgan Akalla had given Saroth on Naskador had been limited, but useful.
Drawing in a deep breath of cold morning air, Saroth turned back to face his makeshift campsite within the woods that ran alongside the road. He could see his horse through the thin foliage, tied to a low branch of a sturdy tree. He traveled light and his possessions were usually on his person, so anyone who had been walking through the woods would not have even realised he had been camped there.
Past experience had taught Saroth to use his surroundings to great effect and he had also learnt how to be patient in extreme conditions. In fact, many times his life had depended on waiting and remaining silent for days. Unlike most, lack of sleep was something he shrugged off and he had learnt how to focus his mind to keep his wits sharp and his reactions quick. The cold woodlands of the Rotian Kingdom were nothing compared to some of the places he had been required to visit.
His eyes stared deeper into the woods and he thought of those three rotians he had intercepted before; two men and a woman. They had believed themselves clear of the danger. One of the men - an older rotian - had an injury to the shoulder and seemed ready to drop on the road where he had stood. The woman was middle-aged and slow in her step, lagging behind.
Saroth turned his gaze back to the road. He had learnt not to linger on thoughts of those no longer of this world. No Rotians would reach Turambar, be they men, women or children. Having not seen any more Rotians of late, he was beginning to understand that those three had been the only ones able to flee in time this way.
The attack on Boraila was the key to their success and it was important that he ensured no alarm was raised with the soldiers at the fortress.
Chapter 10
The bridge over the Ulmerien was clear.
Khir looked across at Gorric, who still seemed too pale. It had taken a long while for Gorric to come to after passing out before in the copse of trees. Since then, with only water and some meager pieces of food - mainly a single small loaf of bread which had been given to them by one of the Barentin women as they fled the town together - the four of them were beginning to suffer. Gorric was strong-willed but his body was crying out for food and sleep, as were the others.
They had moved northwest from the copse and had reached the bridge later than they had originally planned, due to Gorric falling unconscious. Now, it was early morning and they could see the bridge just ahead of them. None of the invading soldiers stood guard there and the way across seemed clear.
"I don't understand," frowned Varayan. "Why are there no men stationed here?"
"Let's take a look," said Gorric, moving toward the bridge.
Khir noticed that Gorric's hand rested on the hilt of his sword. Apart from his hunting knife, Khir had no real means of defending himself and realised that in a fight, Gorric was their only hope of survival. With his friend not being well, if they were attacked, they would have no chance of getting out alive.
They jogged to the bridge and Gorric began walking across, his pace broken by occasional staggering.
"Wait," called Khir, crouching down.
Gorric turned and sighed. "What is it?"
Khir studied the ground for a moment, running his hand across it occasionally, then he looked up at the others. "Many horses and men have gone across this bridge recently."
"How many would you say?" asked Rynn.
Khir glanced at the acolyte and shrugged. "I can't tell, but I'd say that a large number of those soldiers came this way."
"We don't even know how many there were in Barentin that night," said Gorric quietly. "We saw many in the square, plus others at the docks. Are you saying that they all came this way?"
Khir could see the concerned expression on his friend's ashen face and realised that it matched his own. "I think they did. I'm not as good at tracking as my father."
"So what you're saying is that it could have been tens or it could have been hundreds," said Varayan, sarcasm dripping from his words.
Khir chose to ignore the thief and set off across the bridge after Gorric. Rynn turned to Varayan and leant in close.
"You saved my life, Varayan, and I will always be in your debt for that, but why must you be so difficult all the time?"
Varayan regarded the acolyte coldly. "Don't forget that I also tried to steal your coins," he said.
Rynn shook his head. "I don't understand you. What made you help me that night anyway?"
"Instinct, I guess," Varayan shrugged. "Not a very smart move now that I think back on it." He grinned. "Then again, now you're in my debt as you say."
Rynn rolled his eyes and started across the bridge after Gorric and Khir. Varayan stood watching them for a moment. Truth be told, he still did not know why he had saved Rynn's life and that made him uneasy. He had never cared about people, so what had possessed him to risk his life that way. Gorric and Khir had been ready to turn him into the local guards in Barentin. They did not trust him and he did not trust them. Rynn however was not so judgmental and seemed to have a bizarre natural trust that appealed to Varayan. The acolyte was probably just naïve.
The thief shook his head. Soon, they could part ways and he could leave their company behind and begin again. He understood that travelling with them was wise at this time, but he longed to be on his own again. The thought that perhaps he had been on his own too long entered his mind. Reluctantly, he followed them across the bridge.
On the other side, they stopped to look around. The road to Tamriel stretched out to the northwest, whilst lesser trails ran off to the north and southwest. Khir examined the tracks again and pointed out that they continued towards his home town.
"There's a fishing village just southwest of here," stated Gorric. "We're all hungry, so hopefully we can f
ind some food there."
"Shouldn't we get to Tamriel as soon as possible?" asked Khir, anxious to return home.
Gorric stared northwest for a moment and then turned to face Khir. "You know as I do, that if these men continued on that road, they'll reach Tamriel. There's no way we can get there before them on foot, but if we can find some horses in the village then there's a chance. It's not far."
Khir nodded. "Let's go then." He headed southwest.
Varayan and Rynn glanced at each other, both understanding that it was more than likely these foreign invaders were on their way to Gorric and Khir's home. When the other two were out of earshot, Varayan sighed.
"What good could we do in Tamriel?" he asked Rynn. "We're hungry and tired. I don't look forward to another meeting with those soldiers."
Rynn scowled at him. "You're thinking of yourself again." He nodded his head at Khir and Gorric. "Their families are in Tamriel. Wouldn't you try to help your own kin?"
"My own kin aren't worth saving," spat Varayan. "I'd rather stay at this village anyway." He saw the troubled look on Rynn's face. "What?"
"If this army continues west, it would eventually reach Boraila, my home.”
Varayan found himself without a response. What could he possibly say to Rynn anyway? He watched the acolyte follow the other two. Perhaps he should just remain at this fishing village and let the three of them continue on. If their fears were justified, then Tamriel would fall just as Barentin did and Varayan did not want to see that sort of destruction again. As he moved off after the others, his mind was filled with the image of one particular foreigner waiting for him in Tamriel, eager to get his revenge on the young thief for scarring him across the face.
Traitor.
The word echoed in Talgan's mind as he awoke suddenly, sitting up in his bed. The dream had been so vivid and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest.
Severed Destinies Page 9