by Paul Yoder
She tumbled to a stop, pushing up quickly to spot her opponent, jumping to her feet, fighting through the pain in her chest that was telling her to stay still.
She had to move now, or die. She knew she had to retreat, but looking for Bede’s body kept her attention back towards her foe instead of to the exit.
“You would make a determined champion,” a voice spoke, seeming to come from beyond the walking wall of armor that strode towards her, springing forth from the very bowels of hell.
“And only days before we walk upon the Plainstate. Such convenient timing. The countryside villages stand no chance against our forces and will only add to our numbers. The Capital will fall effortlessly, and you will be there not only to witness it, but partake in its decimation.”
Frantically looking to the approaching knight and the surrounding battlefield, Reza finally spotted Bede’s body again, but it was far behind the brute that stood in her way.
She leapt to the side, attempting to get around the knight, but its massive warhammer came up just in time to bat Reza down once more, Reza managing to scurry out of the way just before the hammer side of its weapon came down, shattering the stone floor that had been beneath her.
A rune inscribed banner burned off from the thing’s helmet, wax that once held it in place melting like blood, dripping down over its face slits.
Dark energy tentacles burst forth from the arisen’s hand. The tendrils licked out at Reza, latching on to her limbs as she struggled, gasping through the pain as she attempted to get to her feet again, holding her in place.
Stepping up to Reza’s bound body, the thing reached out slowly with an open hand, gathering a swirl of darkness in its clutch. Reza began to feel her heat and life starting to drift away into the palm of the death bringer that stood before her.
The blackness within the knight’s helmet echoed out its hollow voice once more.
“Have you ever felt the pleasure of slaughtering innocents—torturing those that know love—or will I be the first to show you the resounding sedation of suffering?”
Reza’s jaw went slack, her eyes wandered up into her lids as she started losing her hold on her mortal body, her soul being whisked away as the hellspawn spoke.
Amber light coruscated out from the ring Reza still wore, disintegrating the tendrils that bound her, shielding her from the whirl of death along the knight’s hand.
Landing on her feet, her muscles once again responding to her command, though greatly weakened from the life-sucking assault she had been subjugated to, Reza heard Isis’ faint voice.
“Go—”
Reza ran, the tendrils licking at the fast fading golden aura that encircled her, the warding effect wearing off just as Reza passed through the threshold she had sent her comrades through, delivering her out of the reach of the molesting tendrils.
As she perfunctorily staggered down dark corridors searching for the city’s exit, an empty sob escaping her from time to time, she could think of nothing other than her fallen friend she was leaving further behind with every step she took in fleeing that damned city.
30
The Broken Band
Reza stumbled down a windswept street just outside of the city’s gates. She had made it past the gates with little resistance, bolting past the fifteen guards that were posted there before the troop could mobilize to stop her from leaving.
The warning call had been sounded though by the gate guard at the top of the watchtower which now stood lit by the morning sun, and the distant clopping of hooves could be heard within the city walls, rushing towards her.
Just as she was about to turn down a side street to attempt to lose her pursuers, around the sun-basked street ahead of her appeared four horses, Fin, with an unconscious Nomad tied to Fin’s back, leading the other three horses which carried Zaren and Jadu on one horse, and Cavok lashed like luggage across his own horse.
Rushing now towards her mounted comrades, she could tell by their expressions that not too far behind her approached mounted pursuers.
Risking being speared in the back by a charging lance, she kept looking ahead, sprinting, making it to the vacant horse that Fin held the bridle to, jumping up onto the saddle just as Fin began tossing dagger after dagger behind her at the thundering sound of hooves.
Turning around in her saddle, she could see Fin had taken the closest foe down with two, well-placed daggers now stuck into the skeletal knight’s head.
The blow from the daggers having tipped the knight off the mount, it spilled out onto the causeway, rattling apart as it was trampled under hoof as the other mounted skeletal knight came rushing in, charging Fin, lance leading the way.
Fin held out his hands, maneuvering his horse with his knees to trot to face the oncoming attack. Kicking the horse to sidestep, his horse moved him and Nomad out of the way of the spear point at the last second, gripping the shaft as the knight dashed by, forcing it to the stone street. The spear point caught along a crack in the road, jolting the rider enough to become unseated from its skeletal mount, landing on the ground in a heap of steel with a clatter.
Clapping his hands together, a puff of dust showing in the morning light, quite pleased with himself of the risky maneuver that had paid off, Fin called to Reza, “Two down, but looks like there’s more on their way. They’re not too fast or nimble on those wretched mounts, but we had better be going now if we don’t want to get overran. You lead the way, Reza.”
Reza, trying to catch her breath after the lengthy sprint through the city with injured ribs, nodded to Fin, kicking her horse hard, bolting it forward, turning the group down a side street that led around the city towards the highway to the Plainstate.
The road did not favor them that day. Luckily, they had not been trailed far by the arisen riders, but Cavok had been unconscious the bulk of the day, causing Fin to have to stop multiple times to adjust him on his horse’s back before continuing on. Even when he awoke in the afternoon, he was unresponsive for hours later. Nomad too remained unconscious, but did not awaken until they stopped that evening to give the lathered horses a rest, some of the mounts’ gasps for air starting to sound dire.
As the night drew near, the oppressive desert sun began to set on the group perched on the side of a knoll surrounded by low-hanging, scraggly ironwood trees. Fin handled the horses, giving them what little water they had brought with them from the farmhouse they had quickly raided before snatching up the steeds and rushing off to pick Reza up in the streets.
Reza helped situate Nomad who was just now coming around for the first time since the previous night’s battle while Jadu helped as best he could to dress the camp, getting bedrolls set up, rummaging through the group’s remaining dry victuals for everyone to snack on before bed.
The group silently worried over Cavok and Zaren, both out of camp, though still within sight.
Cavok stood, looking blankly the direction of Brigganden and Zaren sat on a large rock, looking unbelievably old and drained, shivering, mumbling to himself almost in a hysteria, turning over an odd, oblong marbled stone in his hands.
Reza and Fin, the only two in the group that had the awareness to notice, exchanged worried expressions as Cavok lumbered out of the camp and into the low mountains rising up behind their camp.
“He’ll be back,” Fin mused, going back to patting down the horses, sounding as though he was trying to convince himself of that more so than he was to Reza, adding, “Just needs to sort some stuff out alone.”
Behind them, Nomad’s voice brought their attention back to the camp. Sitting up, Nomad thanked Jadu for his offering of water.
Looking as if every muscle or bone in his body was either bruised or broken, Nomad attempted to take off his armor, not getting very far before Reza started to assist him, taking over the process while Nomad simply attempted to not cry out in pain as she peeled off battered and abused sections of armor.
“Wow,” Reza murmured, taking note of the
multiple complete breaches along almost every piece of equipment she took off.
“You’ll more than likely need to acquire new gear after that beating you took.”
Nomad just grunted, suppressing as best he could the urge to shout the pain off as Reza ripped out a side plate in which punctured metal had stapled the plate to his torso.
“Fin, where’s that high-proof liquor you said might be suitable for treating wounds?”
Fin turned to consider the question and hesitantly answered, “Gave that…to Bede.”
Reza looked down for a moment, having put off the thought of her fallen friend the whole day, then looked back up, putting the subject aside again, ordering, “Give me the best stuff you’ve got for cleaning wounds.”
Fin slowly got up, rummaged through his horse’s side pouch, uncorked the dark-brown bottle and whiffed it.
“Rum’s best we got. It’s no pure grain, but it’ll work. Hurt like the dickens and probably won’t completely disinfect, but Nomad can take the pain, and it’s better than not treating it at all,” Fin said, replugging the bottle and tossing it to Reza.
Ripping off a strand of her tabard, Reza soaked the make do cleaning rag in rum, asking Nomad where his wounds were that he needed her to treat.
Flinging off his whole blood-soaked top smock, Nomad exposed a myriad of wounds. Most were sizable cuts and scrapes mingled with deep-colored bruises, but there were more than a few serious gouges.
Eyes widening in surprise, not thinking he harbored so many injuries beneath his broken armor, she took in a deep breath and handed the rum over to him to swig as she got ready to start in cleaning the superficial abrasions first.
Taking a few swigs of the potent rum, Nomad nodded for Reza to start in on his back, choking on some rum as Reza began smearing the liquor along his cuts.
“Better keep that stuff down—you’ll need every last drop of it,” Fin said, slightly losing interest as Zaren’s rock began to glow, then flash.
A sudden laugh turned everyone’s attention back towards Zaren who seemed to look back to his former age, seeming more of his slightly unhinged self.
Giving Zaren a confused look, Fin was in the middle of asking what had just happened when Zaren explained, “Weaving so much hexweave in my weakened state began to unravel my aging spell, and a lot of other essential spells might I add. Rarely will you see me risk so much for strangers, but I did, and I paid dearly for it. But I’m at least at a maintained state now. Won’t be able to weave even small spells for a while, but at least I’m out of the woods, so to speak.”
Zaren smacked his lips, adding that he was hungry, offhandedly mentioning to a still dumbfounded group of onlookers, “Where’s Jadu?”
Fin, Reza, and Nomad looked around, noticing for the first time the little praven’s absence.
It had not taken Jadu much effort to follow Cavok’s trail, his lumbering footsteps easily leaving prints in the thin crust of the high desert sandy loam.
Hopping up the last boulder, leading up to an overwatch across the steppe they had been traveling through, the last light of dusk casting its remaining light along the stretch of desert brush before them, Jadu quietly took a seat beside Cavok, who sat on a downed tree, looking out over the beautiful scene.
Jadu hadn’t actually seen Bede or knew of her fate, and since no one had spoken of her that whole day, he was only able to guess why they had left the city without her.
He guessed the truth of it; that she had probably died somewhere along that terrible battle the night before and that some in the group somehow knew the details of her demise, even though he and Zaren had been kept out of the loop, more than likely not purposefully, but rather due to the tenderness of the subject.
He had never been one to truly value personal connections, prizing his research and study more than his acquaintances. He admitted to himself that to truly sympathize with any of the group that knew Bede on a deep level was more than likely out of his ability; but, for Cavok, who he had, for the first time in a long time, felt something of a connection with, perhaps along with Nomad as well, he wanted to attempt to console the man that he considered to be a friend.
Pulling out a familiar bottle, offering it to Cavok, who after a moment, looked down to acknowledge Jadu’s special liquor flask, Cavok let out a small chuckle before saying in an unusually soft tone for the large man, “No, little one. Some losses and pains deserve a clear head to remember.”
Jadu lowered his offering, tracing the rim of the bottle idly as he silently considered Cavok’s words, tucking the drink back into his pouch as he looked back out into the, now dark, landscape, the stars coming out in full bloom.
“She was a mighty woman,” Cavok said, looking out into the heavens.
“More a mother to me than even my own ma. Fearless, kind, accepting, but exacting at the same time. Always expected more of you than you were, and helped to guide you to that better place. She will forever be with me in memory.”
Wrapping his arms around his knees, Jadu let out a soft sigh as he sat in silence next to his reflecting friend, both observing the flickering stars long into the night.
31
A Renewed Purpose
The morning sun woke the group from their uneasy sleep, Jadu being the only one to chipperly greet the new day.
Offering everyone a bit of worm jerky and the last of their water, he added that they should savor the meal as that was the last of their rations.
Reza had finished dressing Nomad’s wounds the night before as best she could, and Fin had helped Reza with hers, Reza having horrible abrasions along her sternum from her inwardly dented breastplate. Not much could be done about the broken bones and bruising for either of them, most of the damage being located along their torso, but neither of them murmured over the pain as they helped pack up camp.
After having some time to mourn, rest, treat wounds, and have a bit to eat and drink, the group was ready to head out, but as to where they were headed, they hadn’t discussed yet.
Reza, knowing tension on the subject of their next move was heavy in the air, called everyone in for a huddle, the group congregating in a circle in the middle of their camp.
Reza hesitated, looking out across the warming sagebrush. Those in the group that knew her well, knew that whatever the subject was, was going to be a tough one for her to broach.
“Bede is dead. I don’t know how. Nomad, I would like to know the details of her passing and how you two came to be there later, but there is an even more important matter to bring up with the group—more important even than the passing of our comrade and friend.”
Her voice wavered on the last words. Clearing her throat, she pressed on.
“We got more than what we came for. Lashik’s overlord showed his face once everyone left. We cannot match them by ourselves. Though my heart begs me to rush back in to avenge Bede’s death and recover her body to put her at peace, we all know that would be suicide, especially with us in our current condition—so don’t plead that case. I will not hear it. Bede would not want us to throw ourselves away at her expense and over remains alone at that.”
Watching everyone’s expression as she preemptively closed the conversation on any rescue attempts others might suggest, paying close attention to the disappointed looks she garnered from Cavok and Fin, she continued.
“That doesn’t mean we won’t soon be back to rip those necromantic bastards to shreds. Lashik’s master let me in on their plans over the next few days. They will be marching on the Plainstate countryside, burning a path through smaller villages, gathering more to their arisen army until they assault Plainstate’s capital.
“Our mission has more urgency to it now than ever. Sultan Metus must be informed of this imminent threat or the people of the Plainstate will begin to pay a hefty toll.
“We’ll need to travel fast and light. No stops for rest until we’re in Sultan Metus’ hall—we’re out of food and drink anyways.
“We’ve been heading northeast, off the trail to make sure we evade any potential trackers sent out after us. We made great ground yesterday, so I’m assuming we’re just northwest of the town Warwick, and a good deal west of the trade city Viccarwood, which is a few hours south of the capital.
“We’ll run the horses all day until we hopefully hit Viccarwood. Without a map, and none here as to my knowledge knowing this wilderness well enough to act as guide, it’s going to be luck that we hit Viccarwood by nightfall, but that’s the plan. If we make it there in the night, we’ll pick up fresh mounts and head out to the capital and report immediately to Metus. Is everyone on board with this plan?”
Usually the quiet observer, Nomad now spoke up. “And then what? You said we would soon return for Bede, but you would lead us away from her—a great distance away. Retrieving her body is perhaps more important than you know. Lashik promised awful things—things I wish not to speak of. Even in death, he holds great sway over the fate of a soul. It is vital that we recover her remains.”
Fin and Cavok didn’t need to say it, but Reza knew from their unwavering glares that they felt the same way and demanded a good answer from Reza explaining how reporting to Metus was going to help them recover Bede’s body from the arisen city.
Reza doubled down on her authoritative tone, strongly replying, “You think I don’t know the risks that come with leaving Bede’s corpse to those beasts? We will return for her directly after informing Metus, and with his finest troops, but rushing back in now would be throwing ourselves to the afterlife.
“Perhaps we could take Lashik, though I doubt it, but you haven’t witnessed the power of his master. We stand no chance. We need reinforcements. We need a whole army because we’re up against the same. This is no task for a ragged group of scouts. Once we inform Metus of the danger and the threat of immanent march by the arisen on his lands, he’ll have to respond, sending forces to his borders, and I’ll plead the case to siege Brigganden before the army is mobile. We can lead a special unit and lead the attack since we best know the enemy. I know Metus. He’ll comply, and we’ll be back here within days to reclaim the city and Bede, and we’ll prevent a mass slaughter of countryside villages on top of that. It’s the only sensible solution.”