“It’s bad,” Tovak said. “He saved my life. I’d be dead without him.”
“Aye,” Thegdol said, “that’s what comrades do.”
Tovak felt tears brimming in his eyes. He wiped them angrily away and cleared his throat.
Thegdol said nothing more for a long moment. Then, the sergeant glanced around the darkened camp.
“Corporals,” Thegdol called, “see to the wounded. I want a head count as soon as possible.”
“Yes, Sergeant,” came a response.
“On it, Sarge,” Karn said from across the camp.
“Shrike?” Thegdol called.
“What do you need?” came Shrike’s voice from the far side of the camp.
“You survived, you old bastard,” Thegdol said.
“It’s becoming a habit, Sergeant.”
“Get the fire going, will you?” Thegdol asked. “We’ll be needing hot iron to cauterize wounds.”
“On it, Sergeant.”
“Are they going to attack again?” Tovak asked the sergeant.
“I doubt it,” Thegdol said. “The last I saw of them buggars, they were legging it across the field and into the forest. We gave them a real drubbing tonight, a real drubbing. They should have known better than to tangle with us.”
Tovak looked about the camp. Besides a good number of skirmishers that were down, there were even more orc and goblin bodies. Some were still moving. Lok walked up to one that was trying to crawl its way back to the wall. Sword raised, he stood over the creature a moment, with a look of loathing and disgust. Then he stabbed downward into the back of the neck. The creature stiffened and then fell still.
Tovak suddenly found his hands shaking uncontrollably. He gazed at them, wondering why they would not stop trembling. The sergeant noticed.
“That’s normal,” Thegdol said. “It’s just your nerves. Give it time, son. The shaking will pass.”
“Sergeant,” a voice called. “You are needed over here.”
Thegdol reached down and patted Tovak on the shoulder. With that, the sergeant straightened and walked away, leaving Tovak with Jodin and the lieutenant.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“We’ve double-checked,” Logath said to Thegdol. The sergeant was standing by the fire, just a few feet away from Tovak. He was speaking with Logath, Karn, and Gamok. They had been taking stock after the fight. “We can’t find Dagmar, Gorabor, or Staggen.”
Tovak’s head came up and around. He’d just donned his armor. The enemy attack had finished less than a half hour before. His hands had stopped shaking but his nerves were still on edge. All around, those who hadn’t been injured were readying themselves in the event there was another attack. Even the walking wounded, those who could, were preparing themselves.
“To be certain, we checked the dead again. We even searched through the bodies in the trench.” Logath gave a tiny shake of his head. “No luck. We think they may have been taken.”
“Gorabor?” Tovak breathed in horror, glancing around, searching. He hadn’t seen Gorabor since before bedding down for the night. The camp was well-lit, as several fires had been set. His eyes passed over Shrike, who was busy stitching up a skirmisher from Third Section. Tovak did not know him, but he’d taken a nasty cut to the leg. He was grunting as the teamster threaded the needle, but he did not cry out.
Tovak’s eyes went to the wounded, who had been lined up in order of need and severity. One of the archers, Tovak believed her name to be Aggatha, was working on an arm wound of an unconscious skirmisher from Third Section, scrubbing it clean with a blood-soaked rag. Behind her, in the fire, rested the tips of several swords and spear points. The metal wasn’t hot enough yet, so the cauterizing of any wounds that needed it had not begun. Jodin likely would be one of the first candidates.
Tovak’s eyes moved from the wounded and scanned the camp. He saw neither Staggen nor Gorabor. His heart twisted in fear for his friend. Why had he not thought to search for him until now? Why? Tovak cursed himself and glanced once more around the camp, hoping beyond hope it was all a mistake. How could he have let his only friend in this world be taken? He knew such thinking was irrational, but the sense of loss tugged hard on his heart and so too did the guilt.
“Staggen and Gorabor had sentry duty,” Gamok said. “They were probably the first overcome.”
“Dagmar did not have sentry duty,” Logath said. “However, his bedroll was near where Staggen had been posted.”
“The enemy came to grab prisoners,” Thegdol said, and spat on the ground. “There was never any real intention of overrunning our camp. The bastards only wanted intelligence. Bloody gods.”
“Which means,” Logath said, “this group that attacked us is part of an organized force. I don’t, for one moment, believe we’re dealing with a lone tribe. The attack on Third may have been an attempt to gather information as well. Sergeant Kelloth’s timely counterattack likely foiled any attempt at taking prisoners.”
Thegdol rubbed his jaw as he considered Logath’s words.
“If I am correct,” Logath continued, “Karach needs to be warned. There could be an enemy army shadowing the warband in these very hills.”
Thegdol remained silent, running his hand through his beard, which was spattered with green blood.
“What we need to do is go after them,” Karn said to Thegdol, “before it is too late. You know what they will do to our boys.”
“We’re in no condition to go anywhere,” Logath said, aghast. “What would you have us do? Leave the wounded unprotected?”
“We don’t need to take everyone,” Karn snapped, then looked back at Thegdol. “All I need are a handful of our best. We follow them back to their camp, sneak in, free our people, and then leg it back here.”
“You make it sound so easy,” Logath said and then pointed out into the darkness beyond the camp. “It won’t be a stroll across the meadow.”
“I am inclined to agree with Karn,” Gamok said. “Leaving our people in their hands doesn’t sit well with me. We should go get them. In the doing of it, we may learn the size and composition of this enemy force that Logath thinks is out there. Headquarters would find such information invaluable.”
“You both are out of your mind,” Logath said. “Thegdol, talk some sense into them.”
“Logath,” Karn said, “you are too cautious. It’s time for you to grow a pair.”
Logath stiffened and went red in the face. He balled his fists and opened his mouth to respond.
“Cease this bickering,” Thegdol said. “I will not have us fighting amongst ourselves. Everyone is upset. I get that. Let’s not take it out on each other.”
The sergeant looked meaningfully at Karn, who gave a nod of agreement, and after a moment, so too did Logath. Thegdol turned away towards the nearest fire, staring into its depths for several heartbeats, clearly considering their words.
“Curse all orcs,” Thegdol said to the fire.
The corporals waited. Then, the sergeant turned back.
“There’s nothing we can do for them now . . . not in the shape we’re in. Half our boys are down or injured in some way.”
“Thegdol, please,” Karn said. “I’ve done this before. Let me—”
“Hear me out.” Thegdol held up a hand. The sergeant sounded suddenly very weary. “When the captain arrives with Second Section, I am confident he will go after them. I want to go after them too, but I cannot. I have a greater responsibility. We simply have too many wounded who are unable to care for themselves. Though I doubt it, the enemy could come back and hit us a second time.” Thegdol paused a heartbeat. “Karn, I don’t feel comfortable stripping what little strength we have left, even if it’s a small team. No. Any rescue attempt will have to wait until morning and the captain’s arrival.”
“Thegdol,” Karn said, becoming heated, “they may not live ‘til morning. You very well know that. If you were in their hands and I in your boots, I wouldn’t leave you. I would come for you. We don’t leav
e anyone behind, ever.”
“You’re not me,” Thegdol said, a hard edge creeping into his tone. “With the lieutenant down, I am in command. No matter how distasteful, this is my decision to make. My mind on the matter is made up. There will be no rescue attempt tonight. We will wait for the captain or the lieutenant to regain his senses. Until then, this discussion is over. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Sergeant,” Karn said.
“It is,” Gamok said.
“Now,” Thegdol said, “half our able-bodied strength is to be on the wall. The rest are to stand down. Logath, you have command of the wall. Gamok, since you’re good with the needle, go help Shrike with the wounded. Karn, after we get our armor on, you and I will make the rounds.”
Tovak could not believe what he was hearing. His friend was out there, in the hands of the enemy, and Thegdol was just going to abandon him. He glanced towards the forest at the edge of the field. In the darkness, it looked like nothing more than a black, ominous wall.
The enemy had gone in that direction and he wanted to as well. He felt an urge tugging him onward, encouraging him to go after them. The feeling intensified, until it was almost a physical need tugging him forward. Tovak took an involuntary step towards the forest, then stopped, restraining himself. He glanced back at Thegdol, who had moved over to his bedroll and was putting his armor on. The corporals had gone their separate ways.
Tovak’s gaze swept the camp again, settling on Jodin. Tovak felt an intense pang of guilt course through him. First Jodin, and now Dagmar, Staggen, and Gorabor. He looked back out into the darkness. Corporal Karn had had the right idea. They needed to rescue the prisoners and now, before it was too late. He understood it was the correct decision. Thegdol was being too cautious, too wary. The enemy were not coming back.
“That’s what comrades do,” Tovak said, looking once more over at Jodin again.
“What?” Morda asked, a few feet away. He had just tied off the straps on his armor and was putting on his helmet. “What did you say?”
“Nothing,” Tovak said and knelt by his pack, which he’d left open. He eyed the spirit deck. Secured in its case, it was sitting on top of his spare tunic. Without a doubt, he knew what it would tell him. There was simply no need to consult it. He understood what he must do. He hesitated a moment, then reached inside the pack, unwrapped Thulla’s Blessed Word, and placed his hand squarely on it.
“Grant me strength to do what’s needed,” Tovak prayed in a whisper, for he wanted no one to guess what he was about to attempt. He almost jumped, snatching away his hand, for the book had become warm, scalding hot even. Astonished, he looked at his hand. He wasn’t burned.
What was going on here?
Tovak reached down and tentatively felt the book again. The leather binding was cool to the touch. Had it been a sign? Or had he just imagined it?
He felt the intense urge tug at him again, pulling him to go after the orcs. He stared down at the book. No, he decided. It had been a sign from his god. He was about to risk everything, even his own life, and Thulla had given his blessing. The thought of what he was about to attempt terrified him to his core. Tovak took a breath, and as he let it out, a sense of calm determination stole over him, cementing his resolve.
So be it.
Tovak tightened his helmet straps and then secured his waterskin to his belt. He checked his sword, which was nestled into the scabbard and the dagger in its sheath. He tied his sling and half-full pouch of lead shot to his belt.
Satisfied all was ready, he looked around to make sure no one was watching, particularly Morda, who was nearest to him. While bending down to retrieve his spear, Morda had turned his back on him. There was no one between him and the wall, no one to stop him at any rate.
It was time.
Tovak stood and broke into a run for the wall, sprinting for all he was worth.
“Hey,” Morda called after him as he straightened. “Where are you going?”
Tovak ignored him, charging as fast as he could run, towards and then up the smooth slope of the berm. At the precipice, he leapt out into the darkness, praying he would clear the trench. He landed hard, just beyond, stumbled, and almost fell. He managed to keep his feet and felt a momentary thrill of exhilaration, like nothing he’d ever experienced. The die had been cast. He was going after his friend.
He glanced back at the trench and saw that it had been filled in at the spot where he’d jumped. The orcs had used bundles of tightly tied sticks to fill and bridge the trench. He could have just walked across it. It almost made him want to laugh. Shaking his head, he started for the forest at a jog. Behind him, the camp was a riot of shouting and commotion.
“Quiet,” Thegdol roared and the camp fell still. “Tovak,” Thegdol called after him. “I can’t bloody see him. Can you?” There was a slight pause. “Tovak, answer me, son.”
Already halfway across the field and by the ruins of the old farmhouse, Tovak stopped. He turned back. Silhouetted by the firelight, Thegdol was standing on the wall, along with most everyone else who was able to move under their own power.
“Sergeant,” Tovak called back.
“What do you think you are doing, son?”
“I am going to get our people,” Tovak called back.
“No,” Thegdol said, a firm note entering his voice, “you’re not.”
“Yes, Sergeant,” Tovak said, turning away, “I am.”
“Of all the stupid things to do,” Thegdol exploded. “You Academy-trained are all the same. You think you bloody well know everything. Going alone is suicide. I am ordering you to stay.”
Tovak stopped. He’d just been given an order and it gave him pause for thought. There was no doubt in his mind violating it would have consequences. All he had achieved was about to be cast aside. That was, if he survived.
Thegdol was likely right. Going could see his death. Then again, Tovak knew he could not live with himself if he turned back. Gorabor, Staggen, and Dagmar were out there. The urge to continue tugged at him strongly. There had only ever been one choice.
“I’ve already made my decision.” Tovak started to turn away again.
Thegdol softened his tone a tad. “Son, I know you and Gorabor are friends. Once the captain gets here, we will go and get them. I promise you that.”
“I’m going, Sergeant,” Tovak said, resolve having firmly settled back over him. “I’d prefer your blessing, but if I don’t get it, I am going after them anyway. It needs to be done.”
“Karn,” Thegdol snapped, steel in his voice. Tovak could see the sergeant turn and point at the corporal a few feet away. Karn had begun to climb down off the wall and into the trench. “You bloody stay still. You’re not going and that’s final.” The sergeant looked around at those gathered on the wall. “Anyone who gets any half-brained ideas to go with him, know that I will order the archers to shoot you down before you can go ten feet. Don’t bloody try me.”
Silence greeted the sergeant’s words. Tovak knew he was almost out of the range of the archers. Even if they could see him, he truly doubted Thegdol would give the order to fire.
“You’re a fool,” Thegdol said. Tovak could hear the anger and frustration warring in the sergeant’s tone.
“Aye,” Tovak said, “probably. But I’m still going. I . . . I need to do this.”
“Fine,” Thegdol said. “Go, you damn fool. In fact, I give you my blessing. Risk your miserable Pariah ass, but don’t you come crying back to me if you end up dead, boy. Bloody damn fool. I am surrounded by bloody fools.”
“Thank you, Sergeant,” Tovak said. “I will mark my trail. Look for Thulla’s sign.”
In apparent disgust, Thegdol waved his hand vaguely in Tovak’s direction, then turned and climbed down the wall.
“Go get ’em,” Karn called. From those gathered at the wall, a cheer rose up.
Heartened by that, Tovak started jogging for the trees, following the swath of trampled grass left by the enemy. He had some catching up to
do.
Tovak finished carving Thulla’s symbol, a hand with two fingers up, into the tree trunk. He’d left a trail of blazes, every fifty yards, going back to the camp. When the company marched, they would be able to follow in his tracks to where he now kneeled behind a pine tree in front of the enemy camp. At least, he hoped they would.
From behind the tree Tovak looked over at the ruins of what appeared to be an old town on a hill to the north, about a quarter of a mile away. Between him and the town was a sloping field of grass, scattered over with trees.
Only the walls of the town remained, which told him that it had been abandoned some time ago. Trees had even grown up throughout the ruins. He could smell smoke drifting on the air, though he could not see any fires. This, he knew without a doubt, was the enemy camp.
Tovak counted fifteen tents within the old town. They were of varying sizes, with no sense of uniformity or organization. At least six of the tents were large, and that likely meant their purpose was communal. Tovak could see no defensive trench or wall. There were no sentries in view either. Were they sleeping off the raid? Or were they just arrogant and confident? Or had he simply, in the early morning gloom, missed them?
Tracking the enemy through a dark forest had not proven easy. Several times, he’d lost the trail and been forced to backtrack until locating it again. Worse, it had taken a lot longer than he’d expected to find the enemy camp.
He knew everything depended upon how soon the captain arrived with Second Section. When would the captain march? Would he even march? Or would he cut his losses and return to the warband? As Tovak had followed the enemy’s trail, these questions and more had dogged him. No matter what Thegdol had said about going after the prisoners, Tovak simply had no idea if Struugar would. In the end, he’d decided he couldn’t count on help. If he ran into trouble, he was effectively on his own.
He glanced up at the sky. It had begun to lighten considerably. At best, sunrise was perhaps an hour away. He took a sip of water, then returned the skin to his belt. He’d followed the tracks of the raiding party all the way to the canyon, past the monster murinok shell. The tracks had led him farther up the canyon, about a mile, to what looked like an ancient roadbed. This crumbling, rutted, and badly weathered road cut its way upward in a series of switchbacks along the canyon wall. Tovak had climbed the road to the top.
Reclaiming Honor Page 33