by Elí Freysson
There were sounds outside. Sounds of voices and feet and metal.
“Ah, here they are,” Tallin said. “We’re in here!”
Irina stood up, as did her comrades. She kept a hand propped up on her club as if it was a walking stick.
This new group was much bigger. A quick guess put them at somewhere around twenty. They seemed to be spreading around a bit, but a few sets of feet came towards the door.
The man who entered was flanked by men in mail shirts with swords at their hips. The man himself wore a large fur cape, had a dark beard to match his hair, and had a sword of his own in a fine sheath.
“Good evening, all,” the new arrival said, and took Irina’s four-man group in with a questioning look.
“Camdyn,” Tallin said as he got to his feet. “Good to see you. How many did you bring?”
“Twenty-three,” Camdyn replied. “The rest will join us shortly.”
The man kept his severe face on Irina’s group, with a look that demanded information.
“Oh, these folks were already here,” Tallin said. “Heading north, they say. Out of sight of the Bright Lords.”
“Funny that,” Camdyn said, though he didn’t look amused.
Then he just stood still, with his gaze fixed on them. There was a hardness to the man and Irina sensed a test in the way he just kept them waiting. She kept track of the sounds outside, trying to place the rest of his men. She also went over the general village layout.
“I’ve met a few people who called themselves ‘adventurers’,” Camdyn finally said. “Mostly they were idiot runaways or outlaws who couldn’t be honest about themselves. But you lot look seasoned. You have that air.”
“We do,” Jon replied simply.
“So what brings you to Mid-Melgen?” Camdyn asked, and Irina felt it was no casual question. “The Bright Lords have almost the entire land under firm control. Anywhere south of here is no place for people who want to make their own rules.”
“You might say it was a personal errand,” Jon replied. “We’ve tended to it and now we are indeed hurrying away.”
There was danger in the air. Irina didn’t understand why, but the instincts she’d had to develop were clear.
“Ah, personal,” Camdyn said. “That is what gets one killed, isn’t it? Because anything else one can walk away from.”
“And what did you walk away from?” Jon asked.
“Oh, nothing, in fact. But I’m not here to talk about my past. I’m concerned with the future. See... I’m here to lead a group to the border myself. What do you say to joining us? There is strength in numbers, after all.”
“But visibility as well,” Irina interjected.
“A lot can be hidden in these parts,” Camdyn said. “But I am not fleeing. We have work to do, us stout fellows with iron in the right places. And the more the better.”
“Is this a recruitment attempt?” Jon asked.
“It is. I won’t lie: There will be bloodshed. But also a guaranteed reward. Enough to keep anyone fed for months. What do you say?”
The group looked at one another.
“Let’s discuss this outside,” Jon said and took a step towards the door.
“No,” Camdyn said, and intercepted him. “Let’s discuss this right here, right now.”
“Is there some rush?” Jon asked.
There was some sort of tightening around Camdyn’s mouth that might have been his idea of a smile.
“Well... if you aren’t allies, then you’re witnesses.”
He took a step back, putting himself more firmly between them and the doorway.
“Now, what do you say?”
“I say flash,” Irina replied.
“What?”
“Flash,” Elseth repeated.
Irina squeezed her eyes shut and saw the blinding light of Elseth’s spell through her eyelids. The group sprang into action.
Camdyn, Tallin and the others were momentarily blinded and reacted with typical momentary panic. Irina swung her club into Tallin’s head and the man went down as the cut she’d opened spewed blood. Jon drew his sword and slashed a man open before taking a swing at Camdyn. But though blinded the man flung himself backwards and the blow missed. Kent drove his spear into the gut of one of the other new arrivals. Irina couldn’t tell whether it made it through the mail but the man did fall.
The men drew weapons, stumbled, reached out and shouted. The group rushed towards the doorway and Irina swung at one of the men who’d eaten their pork. She was the last one out into the night air. The rest of Camdyn’s company were already coming for them, drawn by the shouts.
“Down!” Kent told them. “This way!”
They ran for one of the gaps in the northern wall. Irina looked back just as she did so, catching a glimpse of figures backlit by fire, wielding weapons and moving with murderous intent. Then she jumped.
The slope beneath the village was rough and sparsely grown. Her feet slipped in dislodged earth as she traversed downwards with one great, jarring leap after another. She put all her focus into simply keeping her footing as gravity drew her down into the little valley below.
Something flew past her, drawing a faint whistling sound from the air. She did not dare look; spotting obstructions and reacting to them required her full attention. But they were coming.
The four of them reached even ground and before them was the forest. They ran in, fighting their way through low-hanging branches.
Again her heart was pounding. Again she was having an awful adventure that would be funny later if all of them lived.
“Don’t lose them!” a voice shouted from behind.
They pushed in, further and further. If there was a path here they were not fortunate enough to chance upon it. It was all a big fight, against the darkness, against the branches and roots and bushes that pulled on their limbs and clothes, beating and scratching them in passing.
The landscape had started to slope gently upwards when Irina ran into Jon’s broad back. Elseth had drawn the group to a halt.
“Wait, wait,” the woman whispered.
Irina understood and crouched low even as her animal instinct was to keep running. Elseth took a moment to focus her magic, then pointed off into the forest.
“This way!” her voice sounded from that direction.
Their pursuers shouted over one another, then their general momentum seemed to shift towards the false voice.
The four of them waited a few breaths before they dared move again. The gentle slope continued and the river got ever louder. The forest played its usual tricks, obscuring sound and hindering their progress at every step. But they made it. They crested a low ridge and before them was the river, wider than before.
“Where’s that bridge?!” Jon said under his breath. “If they reach it before we do...”
Kent kept on going, to the west. All Irina could do was follow and hope he wasn’t simply choosing a direction at random.
A shout from down below turned that hope into a prayer.
Her body was tired from a full day of travel, its efforts now rewarded with more efforts in place of sleep. She knew perfectly well that her fuel was running low. She’d done enough running in her time.
The bridge came into view. It was a crude old thing, consisting of wooded planks suspended about ten metres above the river by ropes affixed to pillars on each end.
Kent was first, followed by Elseth. Jon waved for Irina to go on ahead of him and she did.
The bridge swayed with their movements and with the club in her right hand she only had the left to grip the rope handrail. A plank broke beneath her foot and her leg almost plunged through. But she stopped herself with the club and kept on going.
Irina was truly wheezing by the time she made it back onto ground. Finally she dared turn and the light Elseth activated above the other end illuminated the group as it reached the bridge.
Oh, how she wished for Lady Lumiara’s power in her veins.
“Like a
t Crow’s Rest!” Jon said to them and took up position by their end of the bridge. “Kent, support me!”
Yes. Crow’s Rest.
Elseth handed her sling and bullet bag over to Irina, then visibly fought to control her breathing and focus her will. Irina had only ever considered herself a mediocre slinger, but then she wasn’t expected to carry the day here. She fit a clay bullet into the cradle and started swinging.
The first man in line reached Jon, only to fall back as Kent thrust his spear at him. Irina let the bullet fly at the line of men and heard a yelp.
Backup made the man in the lead bolder and he attacked again. Steel audibly met steel. There was groaning and shouting and the shifting of feet, and Irina had to ignore it all and focus on her next shot. It seemed to hit a man in the torso and he fell to one knee. It wasn’t a lethal hit but did slow down the ones behind him as well.
Elseth held out her empty hands, saying nothing, just focusing.
A javelin flew from the dark crowd on the bridge and pure instinct threw Irina away from it. She had no idea whether she’d dodged or if the throw had been bad. She plucked the javelin from the ground and threw it back. Elseth then finished her spell.
The woman generally preferred calling them “tricks”, reflecting her awareness that as magic users went she was low down on the pole. But with enough will and need on the scales she could occasionally manage more than a “trick”.
The bridge ropes on the opposite side all came loose at once, sending the bridge into the river. The men went with it.
Elseth fell to her knees with a gasp.
Irina leaned up against one of the pillars. She stared down into the river. The sounds of shouting made it through the din of the water, fading into the distance as the waterway carried the bandits away. Hoping they would drown was probably overly optimistic.
“Elseth... can you manage a light?” Jon asked.
“No. I don’t think I can.”
“We left our packs behind,” Kent pointed out.
“Well, we will just have to manage,” Jon said.
He took out a rag and cleaned his sword before sheathing it.
“What do you think that was all about?”
4.
“I think it’s safe to stop now,” Elseth said, and did nothing to hide her exhaustion.
“Let’s go a little further,” Jon insisted. “Just to be on the safe side.”
“We are on the safe side,” the woman complained. “Of the river.”
Still, she kept on going.
“Those armoured men,” Irina said as they shuffled along. “They looked like hall warriors from the middle of the land. And what I saw of some of those others... the axes made me think of the western coast.”
“So, warriors who lost their status when their lord did and turned to banditry,” Kent said. “Working with Dale scum and coastmen. That’s hardly usual.”
“I’m rather surprised to see that bandits are still an issue here at all,” Elseth said.
“They barely are,” Irina said. “They are even more broken and scattered than the demons. As that man said himself, they can’t really dare go any further south than this.”
“That begs the question of what they’re even doing this side of the border.”
“And being led by that Camdyn,” Elseth said. “His accent wasn’t the strongest I’ve heard, but he is definitely from East-Melgen. And did you notice his boots?”
“What was wrong with them?” Irina asked.
“Absolutely nothing. They were masterfully crafted.”
Irina thought about it.
“Some merchant or lesser nobleman,” she suggested. “Cast out and now trying to gather the bandit fragments into some half-effective whole. It doesn’t matter. They will lose, as the Bright Lords spread order. Everyone loses against them.”
“I did hear about that coastal raid from two years ago,” Kent commented.
“The attempted one, yes.”
“Everyone loses?” Jon said. “Is that what you intend to tell the prince?”
“I feel I had best tell him the truth, as I see it.”
“I think that is precisely what he is worried about.”
“Right, now we can stop!” Elseth said.
Irina looked up ahead and noticed the outlines of buildings. Or rather, their skeletons. They’d found another dead village.
Elseth managed a weak light and it painted a depressing picture. Very little remained that could be called shelter, and as fatigued as everyone was they settled for the first semi-intact cabin they found.
Elseth kept the light going long enough for them to clear away debris, and then let it go out. Before lying down Irina gave her a hug.
“You saved us. Yet again.”
“It was just an application of my will,” Elseth replied. “Bending the rules a bit.”
“A bit tends to go a long way with you.”
Their blankets had been left behind along with the bags, so they huddled together again.
“Are you still bored, Elseth?” Jon asked.
“Quiet, you.”
All Irina had to do was close her eyes and sleep took her.
# # #
They slept well past sunrise and Irina felt they had every right to. Perhaps her body had simply been in no rush to wake to all its aches. She didn’t consider herself one for complaining, but rising was still a slow process that elicited groans every step of the way.
“Oof, oof, oof.”
She leaned up against a wall as the others shook off sleep as well.
“Good morning, everyone.”
“Good morning,” Jon replied. “So, who is hungry?”
“We all are,” Kent said. “But I’m going to see if I can’t quench my thirst first.”
He left their shelter and Irina shook herself to get some warmth and flexibility back into her body.
“So what do you have?” she asked.
“The usual,” Jon said. He loosened his small waistbag and opened it.
Surviving the adventuring life for a little while taught one to have backup plans. Hence the waistbags each of them typically carried, with a bit of food in it. It was just bits of hard bread and with three or four days until the border they would have to ration it. There would be hunger, but they would have the strength to make it.
“I found the well!” Kent called, just as Irina’s throat desperately called out for water.
They found the man and the well. The skin the villagers had used in place of a bucket was somehow still intact and each drank their fill.
“This place has been dead longer than the other,” Irina observed as she took the ruins in properly. They really had found the only standing structure. Everything else was merging with the wild.
She walked over to a doorway that was the only still-erect part of its house.
“There was a fire.”
“A fire, and worse,” Kent said darkly.
They watched as he walked over to a particular spot in the tall grass. He reached down and picked up a wooden pole that was clearly every bit as old as the devastation around them. Impaled on the end of it was a heavily decayed human skull.
“There are more around,” the man said. “Many more, if you care to look.”
“This wasn’t the demons,” Irina said.
“No,” Kent agreed and stared into the skull’s eye sockets. “This was the invasion from the East.”
“Prince Kalgan,” Irina said under her breath and turned in a slow circle, taking the village in with a different mindset.
“I was a girl when it happened,” Elseth said, and looked about much like Irina. “We only heard what the king wanted us to hear about the war. About getting ‘our’ lands back. It wasn’t until I started travelling that I... well...”
“That you learned that the king’s brother is a monster,” Kent finished for her.
He carefully put the pole back down.
“Discipline, Prince Kalgan called it. Discipline throu
gh fear. And fear requires displays. Places like this one paid the price for general resistance to the invaders.”
He stood in silence, lost in thought for some time.
“I once heard a theologian say that mortal men are the true evil in the world. Because true evil requires choice. Devils lack it and men have it.”
“By that reasoning men are also the true good of the world,” Irina said. “Just to... look at the other side of that statement.”
“I wish I’d thought to mention that to him,” Kent said. “It would have been interesting to hear what he said.”
He again looked over this ghost of a village.
“Some blame Kalgan for the Demon War, coming in his wake as it did. Some say he summoned them and simply could not control them. Others say his sorcery merely served to draw the demons to us. And yet others say his wickedness alone sufficed as a beacon.”
He turned to Irina.
“Tell me, did the Bright Lords ever offer you their own thoughts on it?”
“I’m afraid not.”
Kent shook his head.
“Well, enough of the past. Let’s tend to our future.”
“Yes, let’s,” Jon agreed.
Kent fetched his spear and that was it as packing went.
“If I remember correctly we ought to arrive at a ridge north-east of here,” he said. “It should make our journey easier.”
They found the overgrown outline of a cart trail leading north out of the village and followed it.
Irina put herself through mental preparations for what was to come. A hard march with little food tested the spirit as surely as the body. She knew perfectly well how it would tax her, and the resources she would have to draw on. And for three years she’d been able to draw on someone else’s strength.
Could she really just go back to being her old self? The question began to haunt her as they walked in silence. Her thoughts were no less chaotic than immediately after Jon cut away the collar, and this quiet made her acutely aware of it.
She touched her throat yet again. The bare skin still felt alien.
Had she simply forgotten normal human existence or was she out of practice in dealing with it all? Had Lady Lumiara simply tamed her?