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The Chained Maiden: Bound by Hope

Page 11

by Ian Rodgers


  “Besides bringing enough supplies to last us a month, not really,” Dora said dryly. “From here to the edge of the Sprawling Jungle would take us at least three weeks on horseback. I tacked on an extra week though due to the fact that we will have to go the long way around, rather than taking a straight shot south.”

  “Why?” Ain inquired.

  “To avoid Annod Bol,” Dora said with a dark look in her eyes. Rindel shivered and even Reed looked disquieted by the mention of the City of Slaves.

  “If you say so,” Enrai said with a confused tone. Ain nodded slowly in acceptance as well. It was clear neither of the foreigners believed their concerns about the dread citadel and its depravities. Dora merely shook her head at their naiveté.

  “Anyways, since we’re avoiding that wretched place, first we’ll head to the Lake of Tears. From there we’ll follow the trade routes south along the Salt March, and that will eventually take us to the border of the Sprawling Jungle,” Dora explained, finishing up with the plans for the Cracked Land side of their trip.

  “Hang on, there’s something I’m confused about,” Enrai stated, causing the group to look his way.

  “What’s that?” Reed asked, sipping a goblet of wine.

  “The Sprawling Jungle is a jungle, right?”

  “Yes, the name rather says it all,” Dora said, a confusion laced in her voice, unsure of where Enrai was going with this question.

  “How are we going to get horses through the thick undergrowth? Qwan has a few dense forests, but nothing like an actual jungle. Even so, it’s hard to get horses through thickly overgrown forests without set roads. And I doubt there are any roads in the Sprawling Jungle. At least, none that are suitable for a horse.”

  There was a pause as everyone thought the Monk’s words over. As they did so, Enrai spoke up again.

  “And then there’s the question of what we’ll do to keep the horses safe when we travel into the Lost City. I highly doubt that demons will leave them alone if they come with us. As such, I believe it is best if we don’t take horses with us when we travel out of the Cracked Land.”

  Slowly, the group turned their attention to Dora, whose face paled as she realized what this meant.

  “I-I don’t… Starspot has to stay with me! She’s, she’s my partner! I can’t leave her behind! We have to rescue the Menagerie together!” Dora protested, even as her mind filled with the truth: Starspot would have to be left behind one way or another.

  “I can loan you three some horses to take you south to the border. I know of a horse trading station down there. Oldwell Outpost has a decent horse market for travelers seeking to get rid of their rides. And, it’s close to where you’ll be aiming to go to reach the Kolwine River,” Reed said, wiping his lips with a napkin like a classy gentleman. “And, I’m more than willing to keep an eye on Starspot for you while you’re off on your mission.”

  “B-but, Reed, she’s, she’s…” Dora stammered, trailing off, before clenching her fists. “No! She has to come with me! I won’t let her stay behind!”

  “Enrai has a point,” Rindel said hesitantly. “The demons won’t care that Starspot’s a horse. They’ll attack and kill her if they find her. And you don’t have any training with fighting on horseback, so she’ll be a liability to your efforts.”

  “I’m not going to abandon her!” the half-orc shouted angrily.

  “Ah, I see, now. You’re projecting,” Ain spoke out loudly, giving Dora a stern look. “You’re moving your insecurities about abandonment onto the object you’re closest with.”

  The Grand Elf shrugged. “It’s understandable, I suppose. Everyone else you’ve gotten close to has either died or left you behind, so you’ve developed severe attachment issues.” He then stroked his ears in thought. “I guess that also explains the insane lengths you’re going to in order to save your ‘family.’”

  Utter silence fell on the room, the occupants all stunned by the elf’s accurate, but incredibly insensitive, analysis.

  Dora shot to her feet, tears sparkling in her eyes, and she rushed out of the room with a choked sob. Ain frowned, only for Enrai to smack him upside the head.

  “You insensitive moron! What in the Hells was that?!” the Monk demanded.

  “We all knew that she had some… issues about family and being left alone by those she cares for, but it’s considered polite not to bring that up in front of them. Or at all,” Reed muttered dryly as Ain rubbed that back of his head.

  Rindel shook his head in disbelief. “See, this is why people don’t like elves. They have the emotional awareness of a wet sponge, and a sense of tact befitting a deranged chicken farmer.”

  “In the Domain, it’s common to point out problems so they can be addressed…” Ain began, only to be cut off by a snort from Enrai.

  “In the Domain, yes, but everywhere else, common sense actually has a hold,” the Monk scoffed. “Personal problems are, by their very name, ‘personal.’ It’s the height of rudeness to talk about them in the open like that.”

  Enrai stood. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, someone with empathy should go find Dora. I volunteer myself for that.”

  “Oh, no you don’t!” Rindel exclaimed, hopping out of his seat. “I’m the one who is going to find her and comfort her! Not someone who, if I recall, flirted with her the first time they met.”

  Enrai coughed in embarrassment, before trying to look affronted. “Do you think so lowly of me to take advantage of a woman while they’re upset?”

  “If I’m honest, no,” the gnome declared, giving the Qwanese man a moment of surprise. “You were just being playful back then, and given the fact you tried nothing with Dora when you traveled alongside her, I’m inclined to give a tiny bit of trust in that regard.”

  “However!” he said loudly, “I still have to be the one to do this because first off, I’m the only other member of the Menagerie around, and she needs familiarity right now. And secondly, Ain, while being rude about it, was correct in his statement she has attachment issues. I’d rather not have her latch onto you and try to cling to some notion of affection while she’s in this state. That would only lead to troubles later on.”

  ‘Troubles that go by the names of Scarrot, Holt, Uldo and Reesh if they think someone took advantage of Dora while she was suffering from grief,’ the gnome thought to himself as he made his way out of the dining room in search of the runaway half-orc.

  He shivered at the thought of the rest of the Healer’s family finding out about her being hurt, emotionally or otherwise, by someone. It was bad enough she’d traveled alone with two young men, one of which had already stated an interest in her. Caravans looked after their own. The Yellowmoon Menagerie was no exception.

  Rindel did not have to look too hard to locate Dora. He knew where she’d head. He’d found her there several times over the past few weeks.

  The musty smell of hay assailed his nostrils, and the blue-haired gnome coughed as the tang of horses, sweat, and fecal matter joined in on the olfactory assault. Though most of his nose was gone, torn off and replaced by long healed scar tissue, the scents were still able to penetrate what was left of that sense.

  He’d never enjoyed the rancid stench of beasts of burden, or the stink that hung around the captured beasts and their cages. It was one of the parts of the job working in the Menagerie the former scholar had never gotten used to.

  In contrast, however, Dora had loved them. Or rather, she loved the causes of the smells and stinks. The half-orc loved animals. Perhaps it was her nature as a Healer, but Dora had always gotten along with the various beasts that crossed the Menagerie’s path. Starspot was just one of the animals she had bonded with over the years. All of the pack horses in the caravan loved her, and she loved them in turn. It’d broken her heart in the early days of her work with the Menagerie to let go of the animals and monsters she’d cared for.

  Rindel’s musings were interrupted by sniffles. He sighed, knowing his assumption about where she’d run off
to had been correct, and approached a stall in the stables whose door was ajar. Dora was curled up on a bed of hay, latched onto Starspot’s side and crying into the mare’s brown coat.

  There was a concerned air about Starspot as the horse softly nuzzled her rider, trying to comfort her. Rindel unnerved by how emotional Dora’s steed was. And how emotive she was, as well. As if they were sharing each other’s minds.

  He’d long assumed that Dora had created an accidental Familiar bond with the former warhorse, and this certainly clinched it. The gnome continued to watch for a few moments, then sighed, running a hand through spiky azure hair.

  “Dora?” he whispered, not wanting to make too much noise. The half-orc stiffened as she heard his voice, but relaxed when she recognized it as his.

  “I can’t leave her, Rindel,” she sobbed, clinging tighter to Starspot. “I can’t. I won’t.”

  “You have to,” the Menagerie’s quartermaster said softly. She shook her head violently at his words.

  The gnome bit back a sigh of frustration and chose to try a different approach. “Do you want Starspot to get hurt? There are a thousand and one ways for a horse to come to harm on this journey. I know you do not want to give up being with her, but it’s for the best. She can’t go with you on the final legs of this journey.”

  A whimper was Dora’s reply. Rindel groaned to himself. “Dora, please, listen to reason. I understand wholeheartedly about not wanting to leave behind your companions.”

  When she said nothing, he walked over and plopped himself down in the hay next to her.

  “I wake up some nights screaming. Begging those, those things! Those monsters, to take me instead,” Rindel revealed. Dora looked over at him, her eyes red and puffy from crying. He nodded sadly at her. “Oh, yes. Sometimes I beg to be taken with the rest, so I won’t be alone. Other times, the abominations force me to run after the group only for my legs to become severed, causing me to fall and be left behind. I wake up most nights screaming, Dora.”

  He turned to her, a fierce, determined gaze meeting wet, tear-stained orbs. “I can’t help you on this rescue mission, Dora. I’m a liability. And Starspot will be one as well. We can’t help you anymore. You have to do this alone.”

  “I don’t want to be alone anymore,” Dora whimpered. Rindel leaned over and gave her a quick hug.

  “I know. Trust me, I know.”

  The two stayed like that in the stables through the night, comforting each other with their presence.

  Chapter 8: Mermaids and tears

  Dora looked over the creature in front of her with a critical eye. She checked the teeth. The hooves. The mane and the tail. She carefully examined the legs and the muscles and the body.

  Enrai watched her with growing annoyance. “It’s just a horse, Dora! Four legs, long face, and a rump that can hold a saddle! It doesn’t need this level of scrutiny!”

  “You don’t know much about horses, do you, Enrai?” Dora said with an ‘I know something you don’t!’ tone in her voice. She continued to check the quadruped Reed had given her to use in place of Starspot. “If you don’t take care of your horse, it won’t take care of you. And if you don’t know your horse, from its hooves to its nose, then why even bother riding one? You have two feet. Use them.”

  “I could probably run faster than that horse anyways,” the Monk grumbled.

  “But then you’d be exhausted. And what good would you be to Ain and me in that case?” the Healer inquired.

  “Just leave her be, Enrai. If Dora wants to make sure her horse is fit to ride, then why make a fuss? It’d only be better for us in the long run to have good quality steeds for the trek through the Cracked Land,” Ain pointed out. He was busy securing a saddle onto the back of his own loaned steed, a beige draft horse.

  Enrai grumbled and turned back to his own horse, a sandy colored equine who was slightly older than the others Reed had provided. He began to attached a saddle of his own, when Dora bustled over, slapping his hands away from the leather.

  “No, no, no! You’re doing it wrong!” she admonished, taking control over the placing of the saddle. “Look, this is how you do it properly!”

  “What was wrong with the way I’d done it?” the Monk whined.

  “It was too tight! Poor thing would have gotten saddle sores from the way you were doing it,” Dora said exasperated. She glanced at Ain, “Does he always treat his rides so laxly?”

  “Pretty much,” the elf said, throwing his friend under the wagon. Dora turned harsh, angry eyes onto the Qwanese Monk who flinched.

  “You will tie the saddle properly, and I will watch. You will then undo, and redo it until I say you can stop. No one will be treating their horses poorly around me.”

  “Don’t know why you’re acting this way now. When we rode to Saluda, you didn’t care this much about the horses Ain and I were on,” he grumbled.

  “I was distracted with issues of my own then. Plus, I was under the assumption, foolishly its seems, that anyone who rides a horse for long distances would know how to take care of one,” the Healer said bitterly. “Now, do up the saddle properly! I’m watching!”

  Enrai dared not oppose her anymore and did as she asked. Reed and Rindel watched in amusement.

  “Glad to see she’s back to her chipper, upbeat self again,” Reed said, leaning on a cane for support.

  “Me, too,” Rindel replied, watching Dora interact with her companions with a smile on his face.

  After recovering from her much-needed session of shedding tears, Dora had agreed to leave Starspot behind. It hurt her to make that decision, but it was a necessary one. The mare would not survive in the jungles of the Dreadlands, let alone in a demon infested city.

  With a trio of horses loaned to them by Reed, the group was now prepared to depart. They had their supplies loaded into bags and packs, some magical, others mundane, and were ready for the long, arduous journey south.

  After nodding her acceptance of Enrai’s latest attempt to bind a saddle properly, she returned to her own steed. A large chestnut stallion whose coat color reminded her of Starspot. Her new ride lacked the iconic white starshaped splotch, though, which was disconcerting in her opinion. Riding a horse other than her own felt wrong. But the half-orc gritted her teeth and got on, swinging into the saddle with practiced ease.

  “Alright, let’s get moving. We’ve wasted some time we didn’t have,” Dora declared, looking over at the elf and the human as they clambered with much less grace into their own saddles.

  “And whose fault is that?” Enrai muttered. Dora still heard him, though, and she shot him a look that caused him to quail.

  “We’ll see you soon, and with Scarrot, Holt, Uldo, Reesh, and the rest all in tow!” Dora announced. Reed nodded, while Rindel beamed at her with pride.

  “I know you will. Now go on, get! We’ll be waiting for your return!” the gnome shouted.

  Dora gave a jaunty wave in farewell before guiding her new steed towards the exit.

  “OK, you guys, from here it’s just a few days to the Lake of Tears. From there, it’s almost a direct shot south. So, let’s stop wasting time and get going!” Dora cheered.

  “Glad to see she’s feeling better,” Ain said softly to Enrai, who nodded in agreement.

  “Yeah, she’s far too bright and perky to stay sad.”

  The trio raced out of Creidor into the wide, open expanse of the Cracked Land. Grey lay before them as far as the eyes could see.

  Dora grinned. While she was focused on saving the caravan, a large part of her was excited to see the rest of the world. The trip into Saluda had been too short and marred by Undead, but this time she was determined to get as much as she could out of this venture.

  Not to mention it was a chance to learn about her greener half. The Healer wondered what life might have been like if she’d been born down south amongst the orcish side of her family.

  She shook her head. ‘Thoughts like that don’t matter right now. Pay attention to the
surroundings. Be prepared for anything. The Dreadlands are not to be underestimated.’

  Dora narrowed her eyes as she peered off into the distance. It was finally time to save her family. Her soul pulsed in anticipation.

  ∞.∞.∞

  “Here we are, the Lake of Tears!” Dora said grandly, swinging her arms wide to show off the scenery before the trio.

  Well, they weren’t at the lake quite yet. They still had a few miles to go. But they’d crested a hill which gave a decent view of the massive body of water.

  “You call that a lake?! It’s more like a sea!” Enrai exclaimed, staring at the water that stretched far beyond the range of sight. Ain whistled, impressed by the sheer size of it.

  “I suppose,” Dora shrugged. “Technically, it’s an inland sea, but everyone calls it a lake, and well, the name just stuck.”

  “And it’s all salt water, yes?” Ain asked.

  “Yup. Rindel thinks there might be underwater caverns and tunnels that connect the Lake of Tears to the ocean, but no one’s ever checked. The merfolk that live here don’t have anything to say on the matter, either,” the half-orc said as they approached the lakefront.

  “We’ll stop for the night along the banks of the lake. It’s a bit late in the afternoon, but I think we have another three hours before dusk sets in. We’ve made good time,” Dora said cheerfully.

  Traveling with the caravan, it had taken a full week to make the trip from Creidor to the edge of the lake. With just three people riding decently fast horses and carrying a minimum of baggage, it took them only two days to ride out to this point.

  As they rode they could see small settlements along the edge of the lake’s shore. They were shanty towns and poor fishing villages that had sprung up around the largest source of water in both the Cracked Land and Saluda. A few were close to actual town status in terms of size but served only as stopovers for the trading caravans that made their way through the wastes.

  “Hard to believe anyone can make a living out here,” Ain said, a hint of wonder in his voice as he observed the distant figures of villagers going about their business. Some were in boats, plying the waters for fish. Others were tilling the meagre soil, scratching out an acre or two of barely arable land. They were all working hard, though, dealing with the hand fate had dealt them.

 

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