by Wade Adrian
22
Max groaned as he moved.
He was sore after being still for so long... stupid game figuring out pain. Really, what was the use of that?
Well, probably the normal use. Danger and damage alert.
He was still on top of the wall, the lantern now lit. A small pool of light against the darkness, a sea of stars high above.
The fact that he was lying down was a bit of a surprise. The cushion he had been seated on was under his shoulder... but the big surprise was that his head was resting in Eira's lap. The girl was still seated on her own cushion, leaning against the wall, her chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm.
So, she had stayed with him even after Corvi had said she didn't need to. Nice of her... unless she was trying to earn bonus point with her god.
Ugh. He was starting to think like Tom. That was the last thing he needed.
She had expressed some reservations about this plan of action, even that she wouldn't act for Corvi mindlessly.
Of course, mindless people probably thought themselves brilliant.
Ugh. That one had almost sounded like Tom in his head.
He hadn't moved yet. It was nice here, comfy. Cold, but comfy.
Max stared up at her for a moment... she really was quite pretty.
A pang of guilt hit him.
He'd seen Tovi only a few minutes ago. Not that there was much there, really. She was a princess after all, and he was just a murder-hobo. Not even Bill Shakespeare could make that work.
Then again his romances tended to end with dead people, so maybe the old bard would be down to try.
At any rate, he had enough problems he didn't need to be dragging poor Eira into. She'd been straight with him so far. She deserved better.
He sat up, careful not to jostle her.
Job done. Well... with some minor problems. This hadn't been about helping Corvi, but of course she had twisted it that way.
And yet... he'd learned something. She might be a god in this world, but she wasn't omnipresent. She could only be in one place at a time. Could she jump around? Check on lots of things? Probably. But if she was focused somewhere else... she was somewhere else, and he was free of her.
Not much, perhaps, but it was something.
He didn't want to disturb Eira, but it was cold. He dug in his inventory for a blanket. He had a few after those first nights slumming in caves.
But he thought better of it. It was too cold to leave her up here.
He knelt down and gently shook her shoulder. "Hey."
Eira's eyes shot open, her hands flying to the daggers at her sides.
He just chuckled. "Nothing to worry about here."
She blinked a few times. "You're done?"
He nodded. "Just now, yes. The message got through."
"Huh." She rolled stiff shoulders. "Ugh. Remind me not to volunteer next time."
"Yeah, me neither."
"Still..." she looked up at the stars overhead. "I dreamed... of flying. It was amazing."
Maybe she had tagged along after all.
He smiled. "It was pretty great. Not that I'm eager to try it again. The desire to eat worms was... unsettling."
"I'll try to find you some for breakfast." She nodded.
"How kind, but some mysteries are best left unsolved." He stood, offering his hand. "Come on. You need to eat and then sleep somewhere more hospitable. I have a sneaking suspicion we won't be staying here long."
"Pity. This one is kind of nice."
"Maybe after the bandit stink gets washed out."
"I think that's you."
He looked down at his clothes. "You're probably right."
Max left Eira at a cook fire in the courtyard. Plenty of soldiers were still up and about, the pot still bubbling. They directed him to the building where Tom had set up their command post on the second floor of a guard house.
Eira frowned. "You need to eat."
"I'll be back. Just need to let him know it all worked out."
She nodded a few times... but she didn't seem convinced as she sat and watched him walk away.
He didn't like keeping things from her, but anything he said to her might as well be said directly to Corvi.
All too recent events made that still feel like a bad idea.
There was a guard posted at the door to the guard house. As it should be. He held open the door and waved Max inside.
The lack of a salute was... noticeable.
The inside of the guard house looked like a storage unit had thrown up. It was packed with saddle bags and camping gear.
The second floor was basically one large room, the walls lined with bunks around a central dining area.
Tom was leaning over the table, looking at the map.
Einar paced on the opposite side. "It can't be taken."
Tom rolled his eyes. "I'm sure they said the same about this place."
"Well... yes. Sort of. But we had an angle of attack here."
"You said approach from the sea, that was not even a bare bones version of the strategy we used."
The prince frowned. "It was a start."
Tom scoffed. He gave Max a nod. "You didn't die? Awesome. Course that means I lost the betting pool."
Max gave a little bow. "We live to disappoint."
Tom stood up from the table. "How did it go?"
"Well, Corvi managed to turn it into a win for her... but the message got through in a timely fashion. That's all we wanted out of this."
Einar stared at the map. "You are a fool to trust in her."
"I don't." Max shrugged. "But sometimes you just have to throw the bones."
"Bones?"
Tom sighed. "Dice, you dink. It means dice. Gamble." He shook his head. "We got what we wanted, even if she got something too. Honestly, I'm fine with that. Means she's less likely to call in a favor later, and more likely to help again next time."
Max fell into one of the chairs around the table. "I think she considers everything we are doing a favor for her."
Einar nodded a few times. "No doubt."
Tom shrugged. "Whatever. Let her think whatever she likes. It needs doing, we do it, however we can get it done."
The prince rubbed at his chin. "We should avoid the Spider. Ride around. Hit the Rock. Come back with more men, or... some strategy."
"Strategy is what we do." Tom pointed at himself, then at Max. "Kind of our job."
"Yes. And I admit your unorthodox methods have seen some success."
Tom scoffed. "Some."
"But the Spider is beyond even you."
Max leaned closer to the table. "Why? What's so special about it?"
Tom rolled his eyes. "You mean besides the catchy name? Everyone loves spiders, don't you know." He pointed at the marked location. "It's basically less a fort and more a tower, built up rather than out. The kitchy thing is that it's on an island that more or less has a bottomless pit all the way around it. Used to be a volcano or something."
Einar shook his head. "It's not bottomless. There's water below. It's just fifteen or twenty stories down. And there are the jagged rocks to consider."
"Yes, thank you." Tom collapsed into a chair of his own. "Generally speaking it had a lot of bridges leading into it, hence the Spider title. Once these people took up residence they destroyed all but one of those."
Einar kept on staring, like the map was going to do a trick. "That path is the Mage's path. It is lit at all hours by globes we can't extinguish and some claim there's a strange noise that rises near the bridge. Sneaking up to the gate is out of the question."
Tom shrugged. "Like I said, we have them climb along the bottom."
"And as I told you, it's smooth stone."
"They'll think of something. Like, ropes all the way around. A loop, with them under."
"Even if that wouldn't be visible on the lit path, the top has crenelation for defensive purposes, how will they move a rope they hang from up and down over the merlons they can't see?
Not to mention a rope would be taut with their weight."
"Umm..." Tom lifted his feet to rest of the table. "I don't know?"
Einar pointed at the map. "It is more sensible to hit the Rock. It has stronger defenses against attack, but it has no such natural defenses."
Tom shook his head. "We're closer to the Spider. I don't want to waste days on back and forth travel."
Max could barely see the markings they were arguing over. "Tell me about the other entrances."
Einar scoffed. "Certainly. They all have one glaringly obvious flaw, which is that they lie at the bottom of the deep trench that encircles the tower."
Tom slapped a hand on the table. "Hey, don't talk to my boy like that. Dude just danced with a dark god for your sorry ass. Least you can do is be respectful."
Einar's back straightened, his arms crossed... but they slacked and fell to his side a moment later. "You... are right. My apologies, Master Talern."
Max shrugged. "Forget about it. What I meant was, the other doors. Do they bother to guard them? Keep them locked?"
"Certainly locked, doubtful they have guards. They can't be reached."
Tom pointed at Max. "Guy has birds at his beck and call."
Einar sighed. "Yes... but I doubt they can carry him that far."
Max rubbed at his increasingly bearded chin. "Ropes and grapples? Anything left to hook?"
"We lack such tools, and there is little left for them to find purchase on anyway. And assuming they did, the noise would likely draw defenders who would find it all too easy to stop the invasion attempt with nothing but a knife."
Tom shrugged. "Sounds like we charge up the path we've got. They won't break that one, they need it to get out. We'll shield wall up to avoid archers, and then get a battering ram or something."
Einar frowned. "The path is narrow. Two men abreast, at best. There's no room for a ram, at least not one large enough to be of use. They would also see such an approach coming and could meet us on the bridge. Even with smaller numbers, they could defend such a narrow bridge."
"Place made of stone?"
"Mostly, yes."
"Then we march up, shields high, and throw torches to burn the gate."
Einar shook his head. "While that might work, eventually, it won't work on the iron portcullis beyond the wooden gate."
Tom whistled. "Wow. You guys really went all out. Who did you build these things to keep out?"
"Honestly? Mostly the people that are in them."
Tom nodded. "That's got to sting the ego a bit, right?"
Einar was quiet for a few moments. "Indeed."
Max rubbed at his neck. The hours of stillness hadn't done him any favors. "Who is in this one?"
Tom leaned back in his chair. "No doubt more bandits. These with kitchy polka dot scarves."
Einar shook his head. "No. The last two forts are held by forces from our eastern neighbor. Namely members of the cult of Mehtan. No official affiliation to the country they hail from, of course."
"Of course."
"These renegade forces supposedly took up defensive positions in our lands for religious reasons."
Tom leaned forward again. "Really? That's interesting. Or is that just what they claim, but they really want the soil?"
"They don't often stray far from the structures, but the result is largely the same." Einar shrugged.
Max stared up at the ceiling. "So they're trying to expand their religion?"
"By all accounts? No. Not actively, anyway. But our hills hold many shrines... which you two are certainly aware of. A few are frequented by pilgrims from their lands, the Rock and Spider serve as safe havens along the path."
Tom tugged on his beard. "Really now..."
Max could practically hear the gears turning. "So, what, the pilgrims just waltz up and they open the doors to let them sleep? Just fancy inns?"
Einar pondered it a moment before nodding. "Fancy inns in hostile territory, but yes."
A smile grew on Tom's face. "See, that's the kind of information we can use." He leaned over the map. "So the people holding the fort fancy themselves defenders of these pilgrims."
"Essentially, yes."
"And that means they're going to protect any that happen by? Say, from local troops?"
Max frowned. "You're going to abuse not only their faith, but their honor?"
"I'm going to get us inside those walls. One thing on my plate, man."
Einar glanced back and forth, clearly confused. "Those within the walls do not often leave them, but they have been known to assist pilgrims, yes."
"Super." Tom leaned back in his chair, propping his feet on the table. "What do these pilgrims generally look like?"
"Simple clothing. Rough cheap materials. Robes, mostly. They wear and carry holy symbols. But it doesn't matter, it is incredibly unlikely we'll randomly run into some to hold hostage. Their comings and goings are sporadic at best. We can go months without seeing a single one."
"That's fine. I wasn't planning on waiting. Can you show me these holy symbols?"
Max nodded a few times. "I think I get where you're going."
Einar turned back and forth, unsure who to address. "It's frowned upon to reproduce such symbols in writing, but I suppose for the sake of the mission. Again, I don't see a point. The defenders won't meet with us to discuss terms, and surrendering their forts certainly won't be on the table even if they did. The lives of a few pilgrims don't outweigh the lives of all other pilgrims. They are a sensible if stubborn people."
Tom nodded. "That's fine. I don't plan on talking to them."
Einar leaned on the table with a sigh. "Okay... why?"
Eira was waiting just outside the door of the guard house, practically a second guard, when Max wandered back out.
He gave her a nod as he started toward the big fire pit. "Evening."
She nodded back as she matched his pace. "Productive meeting?"
"Hopefully. Didn't I tell you to get some food and find a place to sleep?"
"You did. Unfortunately I don't actually answer to you, so I decided to wait."
"Hold on, you don't?"
She shook her head. "Nope. Officially Einar is in charge. You are just... sort of an adviser? You don't have any actual authority."
"Huh. Well, believe it or not that's kind of a relief."
She scoffed. "I meant it as a bit of an insult. Not a mean spirited one, though."
"Hmm. And what have I done to earn your ire?"
"Ditching me, for one."
Max shrugged. "I figured you had better things to do. After all, I'm only an adviser."
"You turned that around in record time."
He smiled. "I told Tom his plan worked. He was talking to Einar about how to deal with the next fort. No definitive plan. I left when I started falling asleep at the table."
She walked beside him quietly for a moment before nodding. "Thanks. You didn't have to tell me."
"Why wouldn't I?"
"Because you think I'll tell Corvi."
He cut his eyes to the side. "Will you?"
"Believe it or not, she doesn't talk to me very often. Much more often since all of this started."
Conversation between them ceased when they approached the collection of soldiers at the central fire pit in the courtyard. A pot with hot stew was still cooking. Max grabbed a bowl of stew with a hunk of bread standing out and handed it off to Eira before getting another for himself.
He gave a nod to the man tending the pot.
Eira stepped out ahead and started walking.
He got the impression he was supposed to follow.
She stopped beside a small camp fire on the edge of the courtyard. One of the scouts was tending it.
"I'll handle this, you're relieved." She sat by the fire.
The scout saluted and picked up a pack and his bow before wandering away.
Max sat down by the fire. "Did we just take that guy's campfire?"
"No. He was already packin
g up, and about to put the fire out. We're just keeping it going."
She prodded the fire a bit before shifting how she sat. She ended up closer to Max. Her eyes cast to the sky above.
"What are your plans after this mission is done?"
For all her talk of not just being Corvi's ears... it was something Corvi might not know, and was probably curious about.
Well, it didn't matter.
"Caddrach and myself, we're not from around here. We'll be heading... home, as soon as we can."
She nodded a few times. "I figured it was something like that."
"Hmph. Brynjar knew that. He didn't bother to tell the people he sent about us?"
"We didn't need to know." She shrugged one shoulder. "We have our orders."
"And Tovi didn't tell you, either?"
"Now you're assuming Brynjar told her what he didn't tell us."
Max frowned. "She's his daughter."
"His daughter that is not to be involved in matters of state." Eira corrected, holding up a finger. "At least, not until she can be married off."
Well... that plan probably wasn't going to go as smoothly as he hoped.
He could certainly understand her... request better now. It had made sense before, sure, but it had sounded like what a spoiled child would want.
Now it seemed more reasonable.
It was still deplorable, but he didn't have a lot of room to talk, sitting there in clothes stained with blood.
He lifted his arm and took a sniff. He recoiled an instant later.
"Blegh." He shook is head a few times. "There a bath house around here?"
Eira stared at him for a moment. "That's your response to the situation playing out here? Affairs of state, lives in the balance, life and death... but lets table that because you smell bad?"
He squirmed a bit. "It's distracting."
She sighed. "It is. I don't know if there's a bathhouse, but I know of a few troughs."
23
As the sun rose Tom stood in a field of sparse tall grass fighting against the omnipresent snow. The stubborn grass found a way to grow in patches on the eastern side of the turtle, getting as much sun as possible.
He'd had enough of walls and buildings for a bit.
Einar's attitude was grating. He was no strategist, no warrior, not even a decent soldier since he couldn't hear an order without questioning it. Tom had tried to get him to understand nobody could do everything, and the way to deal with that wasn't to complain and whine, but to find people to help who did what you couldn't.