Some Sort of Glitch

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Some Sort of Glitch Page 17

by Wade Adrian


  The debuff was removed and her health swelled to full.

  Tom released her, practically throwing her arm. "No wounded in this squad. We have too much to do, and I'd like to be done before spring. If you want to pout, go pout." He pointed at the other scouts, squarely at a young woman with dark curly hair in the front. "Give this place a once over. If you find anyone, make it so you didn't find anyone."

  The scouts saluted and dispersed, moving away into the fort.

  Tom shook his head and grumbled as he wandered into the fort as well. The words "stubborn" and "idiot" were loud enough to be heard.

  Eira was shaking, her left hand clutched to where the arrow had been in her right arm, which was perfectly fine. Her right hand was clenched tight around the crow skull hanging around her neck.

  Max gently laid a hand on her shoulder.

  She flinched, her left hand moving to draw a dagger. She stopped with the blade half free.

  "He's not the best at making friends." Max shrugged. "But he means well. Honestly."

  "A crass brute."

  Max chuckled. "Quite."

  "It's not funny. To be touched by the nameless..." She shivered.

  "He isn't... the nameless." He had almost said Yar. Probably a bad idea. "Just a guy who can throw some magic. Helpful magic."

  "The nameless is the font from which that power springs."

  "Yeah, well, it's diluted on the way through, then. I mean, I'm fine. Not crazy." He held his hands up with a shrug. "You don't look crazy either."

  She still had the crow skull clutched tight. "Mother protect me."

  Max tilted his head at that. "Mother? Tovi said something like that. How many kids does Corvi have?" He'd meant it as something of a joke, trying to lighten the mood...

  Eira didn't seem amused. She shook her head. "A common euphemism. It is not true in my case as it is in Lady Tovi's, but it is how we speak of Corvi." She let out a relieved sigh. "She says I am safe from the nameless. I have nothing to fear on this errand, for she ordained it." She pointed her chin at Max. "What does she say to you?"

  "She doesn't, and I am absolutely fine with that." Max's face twisted with distaste. "Silence is golden when it comes to that noise."

  Eira frowned slightly. "You have no gods?"

  "I have one. Sort of. Not really by choice. She seems nice and quiet though. Probably doesn't know I exist. At least, I like to think so."

  Bunch of wackos talking to themselves. It was bad enough when Tom was doing it, he didn't need help being weird.

  Eira tilted her head slightly, her eyes shut.

  She reached out a hand...

  It rested gently against Max's cheek.

  Weird wackos, the lot of them.

  "Ah... there you are."

  The voice echoed in his mind.

  He blinked a few times. "The hell was that?"

  Eira opened her eyes, a smile blossoming on her face. "She couldn't find you."

  Oh bloody hell.

  Tom kicked a dead bandit as he wandered in from the gate. Stupid viking morons and their stupid nonsense.

  Power is power.

  Useful is useful.

  "No wonder they lost all their forts." He stopped beside a broken crate that was a bit singed. It looked to be full of bottles. He knelt down and plucked one out.

  Hmm. Eh, day was done. He pulled the cork with his teeth and spit it out.

  The smoldering remnants of a bonfire gave off some light and welcome warmth. He took a swig and sat on an old log bench that was smoldering a bit.

  One battle down, one fort won. Not bad for the first day. All this nonsense might be worth it if things kept up like this. Armor, weapons, horses, money... knocking over a few forts was a small price for all that.

  These people no doubt saw this as earth shattering change, but they'd cleared a dozen quest hubs larger than this one, and without all the help.

  Granted... they had used game tactics then; pulling, line of sight, timing respawns, etc. Still, they had done it.

  He watched as soldiers started to appear inside. A few were walking horses up the ramp.

  The horses were the real prize. It would halve their travel time. Halve the time they were stuck like this.

  A bit of noise brought him out of his thoughts. A pair of his soldiers were building the fire back up into something presentable.

  Others were leading in the last of the horses, weighed down with all their camping equipment.

  Two men stood in front of him, both saluting.

  "Yes?" He tilted his head up.

  The man to the left spoke first. "The path is clear enough to allow travel. We have the prisoners continuing to work, and will keep them under guard overnight. Tired men don't fight back. It should be cleared by morning."

  Tom mulled that over before nodding. "Good thinking."

  The second man saluted again. "We've broken our old camp and the last of our supplies are moving in now. The gate will need repairs before we can call this fort secure. How shall we proceed?"

  Huh. Had it been that long already?

  "Uhh..." Tom leaned back, pointing with his bottle. "Gate is borked? Okay, then keep everyone in close tonight. Make..." He glanced around and pointed. "These two close buildings safe, set us up to sleep there. Got walls and roofs, might as well use them. We'll make sure the rest of it and the other side of the fort is secure in the morning. We'll send a pair of fast riders first thing to let Brynjar know he can restaff here."

  "Sir!" Both saluted and left.

  Super good at this.

  Max wandered into the light of the fire before sitting down next to Tom. He looked downright somber. Like someone had beaten his dog to death with his dead cat. "Sup?"

  The rogue noticed the broken crate, leaned towards it, and retrieved his own bottle. He pulled the cork and tossed it into the fire.

  He held the bottle... but he didn't drink any of it.

  "I'm sorry."

  Tom took another swig. "You certainly are." He nodded a few times. "Umm... about what, exactly?"

  "I thought you were a little crazy. Talking to... your friend all the time."

  He shrugged. "Maybe I am."

  "I don't think so."

  "Whyssat?"

  Max hooked a thumb under the leather string around his neck, lifting up the oh so fashionable bird skull.

  "Okay." Tom lifted an eyebrow. "What about it?"

  "Corvi said hi." Max took a drink.

  Yeah, pretty rattled.

  He'd been actively avoiding upping his tolerance.

  Tom scoffed. Corvi was a name these people had mentioned more than once. Seemed like a local thing. "Corvi going to help?"

  "Directly? Kind of doubt it. Disembodied voice so far."

  "Hmph. And they badmouth... my friend. She shows up in person."

  "Not sure if that's better or worse."

  Tom shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Three more forts and we're home free with gear, horses, and money."

  "If we make it that long."

  "Let us not forget our good friends here have orders to ensure we do not make it that long if we try and leave early."

  "Good times."

  Tom clinked his bottle against the one Max was ignoring again. "It's what you make of it. We did good today. We'll do good tomorrow. When we're done, we'll find someone to get us the hell out of here."

  "You seem to have more faith than I do."

  "Duh. I'm a priest."

  Max smirked at that.

  Soldiers had continued to pile up around the fire. There were no empty seats left, aside from the rest of the log bench Tom and Max shared. Seemed like they got their own. More than a few people were just sitting on the ground.

  He'd have to be a bit more careful what he said. Fair weather friends and all.

  Tom leaned a bit closer to Max. "She still talking to you?"

  "No. Thankfully. Seemed like she could only do it while Eira was touching me. Only lasted a second or two."

  "Huh
. Where's Eira?"

  "At the gate. Which is why I am not there."

  Tom grinned and took another swig. "Chicken-shit."

  "I didn't care for it. I don't like the very idea."

  "Hmph. But Eira, true believer?"

  "Absolutely." Max nodded. "If they've got a crow skull, they're on team Corvi."

  "And if they don't?"

  "I'm not up on the competition. Still probably don't like your friend."

  "Only the cool kids like... my friend."

  "Well then I think it's hip to be square." Max set his bottle down, staring at the fire. "Personally, I'd like all of them to leave me alone."

  "Good luck with that." Tom's bottle ran dry.

  He took Max's.

  "Go get some sleep. You're not in the watch rotation. Injury sideline."

  Max nodded a bit. "Probably smart."

  He did no such thing, continuing to stare at the fire. Not that the two were mutually exclusive. Max's head dipped a few times before he was out.

  Tom called over the man tending the fire. "This thing have fuel to last the night?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Good. Thanks."

  It would keep him warm. Max was far from the first to simply crash beside it.

  Slightly insubordinate... but he let it slide. They'd done well today, and he liked to think he was the cool district manager.

  Tom wondered how long it would take Brynjar to get reinforcements out here. They had to come from somewhere else. Probably mobile patrols. Replacements would have to be trained and outfitted...

  Or, you know, just spawn a few more.

  Did that work anymore?

  He had no idea. The world seemed to think it had suddenly flipped a switch and now it wanted to be treated like reality, despite him still seeing plenty of mechanics at work.

  Oddly... Yar had been rather quiet. He hadn't heard a peep since the prison cell. She had seemed... different. Distracted.

  Tom took a swig from his new bottle.

  Not his problem right now. He had plenty of other things to worry about.

  Max grunted as he lifted his head.

  This was no time or place to sleep.

  Unfortunately, healing magic or not, he was weary to his bones. It seemed like almost dying took a lot out of him.

  Maybe more than he realized... it took a second for him to notice how much was wrong.

  The camp was abandoned. Just him sitting on a log beside the bonfire in front of the guard house. The gate stood open a few feet away. Everything just as it was... minus the people.

  Well, that and the bonfire was pure white. At that heat this close it should have been melting him into a puddle.

  His hand found its way to the hilt of his estoc.

  "That won't be necessary."

  He knew that voice.

  He didn't care for it.

  A woman walked around the fire, a hand held out to the flames. She wore a gown that seemed to be a deep red, dark enough it was black unless the light hit it just right. Her hair seemed to be the same color.

  Tovi's face looked out from behind the locks.

  Well... not exactly. Tovi was a young woman, still having hints of childish youth about her. This version was Tovi plus a few years. All the childish elements removed, the grown woman beneath in her prime.

  The smile was eerily similar. "Good evening, Max." She stepped closer, bare feet on the frozen dirt.

  He frowned.

  That wasn't his name here.

  "No reason to be alarmed, dear." She stopped, standing beside the fire. "I'm just here to talk."

  "Why?"

  "Because it was so difficult to reach you. You have no idea." She laughed softly. "You're fascinating. I'm not sure what you are, exactly, but you're not like everyone else. Yet you're not like me, either." She sat on the log, a few feet away.

  Out of reach of his sword.

  "Your mind is... closed to me. I didn't think it was possible for someone wearing my symbol. Even those who do not are often open books."

  "Yeah, well, you probably wouldn't like my mind."

  Her eyes grew a touch wider, and she leaned closer. "You're wrong. The unknown fascinates me. I live for secrets, yet you can keep them from me. Only you. It's intoxicating."

  He pulled the estoc from its scabbard.

  She was still slightly beyond its reach.

  "Pretty sure I'm spoken for in the god department, lady."

  Irritation and disappointment washed over her face for a moment, but her neutral expression returned. "Umbra? Hardly. She has no use for you." Her smile crept back into place. "We could have so much more fun."

  "I hate fun."

  Her smile widened as she pushed his sword away with one finger. "My dear daughter never removes her symbol. I am privy to her mind at all times. So, though you are closed to me, I know that simply isn't true, dear."

  "She talked you up, lady, but she didn't say you were a pervert."

  "Knowledge is power, dear. No knowledge is without use." She flicked the sword away... on his end it was hard enough he dropped it.

  And his wrist ached for trying to keep it.

  The blade clattered against a bench on the opposite side of the fire.

  "You seem... hesitant to speak. Most are honored to meet a god. Why is it that you are not?"

  He wondered if a dagger might work better. "I don't like the idea. I make my own destiny, have my own goals, and I don't need you or anyone else mucking with them. I do what I do because it is right. I'm not a game piece for you to move about."

  She laughed. A beautiful, melodious sound... that cut him like a knife.

  It wasn't mirthful.

  It was scornful.

  "You are tied to countless others, dear. A veritable web of cause and effect. Those who influence you and those who are influenced by you. Brynjar, Einar, Eira, even my dear Tovi. No one is free of it. No one."

  "Maybe. But I'm not dealing with you. You're not my type." He shrugged. "I'd talk to Yar before I helped you."

  The woman cringed, a crack in her composure. "Do not speak that name."

  Oh ho.

  "Why?" Max crossed his arms. Nuts to the weapons, this worked much better.

  "The nameless is nameless for a reason. I told you, knowledge is power. Power can be dangerous if misused. The nameless must not return. Best forgotten."

  "Well I'm thinking of converting. You want me to forget I know the name? Then bugger off. I don't need babysitting."

  She seemed frustrated for a moment... but it faded into another smile. "So fascinating. Fine. So be it. Rest well my dear, you've earned it. Dream of sweet things... but know you're not free of me so easily as this."

  The woman held up a hand and wiggled her fingers in a little wave.

  Max's head shot up, his hand flying to the hilt of his estoc... still sheathed at his side.

  A handful of soldiers around the fire looked at him like he was nuts before looking away and returning to a quiet conversation. Plenty of others were still sleeping soundly enough that he hadn't woke them.

  He rubbed at his eyes.

  Great.

  Super.

  A sigh escaped him as he moved his sore neck. Bad place to fall asleep...

  His left shoulder didn't move. He glanced aside to find Eira sound asleep, arm tucked under his, head on his shoulder.

  Well no wonder Corvi had shown up.

  Sneaky little...

  He held onto her as he slid away on the bench, gently lowering her to lie in front of the fire.

  By herself.

  Anywhere was better than here.

  Guards seemed to have a few other fires going. He wandered over to a burning brazier beside the gate.

  The soldiers standing watch barely looked at him as he sat and warmed his hands. He didn't know if he would get back to sleep.

  He didn't really want to.

  18

  The fort had some... unforeseen issues. Not the least of which was a small a
valanche leaving the bridge between the two forts in questionable condition.

  Tom let out a long sigh as he watched from the ramp. A few of the braver, and lighter, soldiers had forgone their gear and were wandering the bridge, checking its condition.

  Really not his problem. If it fell, hell with it. They had two forts here instead of one. Of course that was the defining defensive trait of this one... but they said get it back, they never said get it back in one piece.

  Besides, that was officially the bandit's fault as far as he was concerned. Somehow. He'd figure it out before he wrote up a report... or whatever he was supposed to do.

  More than few of his people were walking wounded. They could work, but they clearly were not at their best. They used bandages, splints, and the like to get people back up and about.

  He could fix it with a literal wave of his damned hand, but no.

  Idiots.

  It hadn't exactly started the morning off right.

  Their fastest pair of riders had taken off in the predawn light. They claimed they'd be back with word before nightfall. Tom had his doubts. If they turned out to be right he'd be pleasantly surprised. One of the perks of being a pessimist.

  There was, sadly, plenty here to occupy them for now, even if no one wanted to be patched up.

  Max waved as he walked down from the top of the ramp. "Gate's fixed."

  "Great."

  A few rocks tumbled down from the wall, everyone on the bridge stopping instantly...

  The entire place held a collective breath...

  They started moving again a few seconds later.

  Tom shook his head. "Yeah, fuck that thing."

  "Can't help but feel that's kind of my fault."

  "Don't be silly. That is entirely your fault."

  "Let's not tell Brynjar about that."

  "Nah. We got it back. Job done. Golden."

  Max ducked behind Tom, his eyes jutting about.

  Tom rolled his eyes. "Eira find you yet?"

  "No."

  "She's been looking. Asks every half hour or so."

  "Thanks for the warning."

  "Chicken-shit. She's just a girl."

  Max bit off a bitter laugh. "No she isn't. She's an assassin, like me, and in deep with her crazy god besides. She'd kick your ass."

  He let that slide. The poor man was clearly delirious. "So her god is crazy too, huh?"

 

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