by R C Gray
“Don’t worry...” Faine said, looking over at Braig with a puzzled look. “I didn’t get your name.”
“Braig.”
“Well, Braig, I’m Faine. This is Renna and Skara. And you don’t have to worry, me and Ren will help you look for the stone. And you too, Skara, if you wanna come along,” he said, looking down at the goblin.
Braig shook his head. “I can’t see why you’d want to get mixed up in all this. Whatever that stone is, it’s not just about coin, and it involves me more than it does you. I may not be able to make much sense of my visions, but I get the feeling that something is changing out there. It’s as if everything started happening at once. It wasn’t all good, but it brought me here, and I mean to see it through. But having someone to travel with might help me find it and not be killed along the way. Besides, I don’t think you’ll have much of a chance without me. So if you’re wanting to find out what’s going on, it looks like we’ll be traveling together.”
Skara raised his head and looked over to Braig. Sitting up, he glanced around the tent. “You’re right, something is changing. It’s like the charge in the air that you feel before a storm. And since I can’t stay here anymore, I might as well take my chances with all of you.”
“That’s the spirit, Skara. Now I don’t know about everyone else,” Faine said, stretching his arms, “but I don’t think anyone is coming into camp in the next few hours, and it’s been a long night. I say we stay here and get some sleep.”
“And then what?” Braig said.
“Then we take the horses and carts out front, drop some supplies in town, pack our things and head south to Mivara,” Renna said, leaning back onto the mattress, her feet resting on the ground. “Then we take a ship to the Grey Wastes in Aerith and find the mage stone. If the mage tower is interested, who knows what kind of magic it holds.”
Nodding his head, Faine tossed a sack of clothing to Braig and put one under his head as he stretched out on one of the ornate rugs and covered himself with tunics. “We’re heading to see the Sanguine Gulf, Skara. And then away from Uthrea to a new land.”
A tingling sensation washed over Skara as he pulled the clothing up over his face. The thought of leaving Banrielle for new places made him excited, but it also filled him with a vague feeling of unease.
SEVERAL HOURS PASSED before Skara awoke to find Renna and Faine gone. Braig was lying on his back with a black cloth draped over his eyes, snoring softly. Pushing the pile of tunics off his chest, he slid off the cot and made his way outside. The sun was at its zenith, and the bright blue of the sky stung his eyes as he emerged from the tent. Squinting as he looked around the camp, he could see Faine and Renna down by the wagons, looking through the supplies.
Picking through the pouches of several of the men lying on the ground, Skara made his way through the camp towards the carts. In the light of the sun, the bodies scattered across the ground looked even more gruesome. Biting flies had begun to hover over several of the dead and flew close to Skara’s face as he dug through their pockets. Taking several more coins and small trinkets, he climbed up on the wagon and looked at the goods stacked in the back.
“It’s getting bad here with the flies. We should leave soon before the smell draws out something else,” Skara said, opening up a crate and looking at the bottles inside.
“Black rum,” Faine said, lifting out a bottle and taking a sip. “It’s strong but good. You want some?” he said, holding the bottle out to Skara.
Skara shook his head, and Faine shrugged and put the bottle back in the crate. “Save that for later,” he said, his voice low. “What else could the smell draw?”
“Spiders, wisps, wolves, the myrrow,” Skara said, looking out into the forest.
“What’s a myrrow?”
“It’s something that eats anything, even the dead. It gorges itself on flesh until it can’t hold anymore. Sometimes I could hear it, out there in the dark. Its howls would carry across the hillside as it hunted.”
Faine followed Skara’s eyes towards the forest, scanning the woodline before looking back at the goblin. “You’re just making that up. There’s no myrrow out there.”
Pulling a piece of jerky out of her mouth, Renna walked up behind Faine and slammed her hand on the wooden planks of the cart, causing Faine to jump slightly. “Oh, they’re out there, alright. You better hope that they’ve already eaten their fill if you ever see one—and that all the extra weight in their stomach slows them down enough so you can get away.”
Faine looked around the camp and batted away several of the flies before taking another drink of the black rum. “So, let’s get the, uh, wagons hitched up and get moving,” he said, tapping the lid of the crate closed and grabbing a piece of dried meat. “You think the townfolk’ll be ok if something comes up here?”
“It should be fine,” Skara said, jumping off the wagon and looking up at Faine. “It’s far enough from town, and whatever comes will move on when it’s done.”
“Right,” Faine said, clearing his throat and adjusting the leather straps holding the supplies in place on the wagon.
Moving off towards the horses, Faine hitched up two of the wagons, each with two horses to pull, the rest tied to a rope attached to the back of the cart. Splitting up and moving around the camp, Skara, Faine, and Renna gathered the blankets and extra clothing from the tents and stacked them on the wagon to take to town. Keeping several blankets and bedrolls for their trip, Renna looked through the clothes to find something warm to wear as they traveled to the coast. Pulling out a thick, grey wool shirt, she slid it over her head and looked over at Faine.
“How does it look?” she asked, holding out her arms.
Looking at the thick shirt hanging over the waist of her dirty brown pants and the spots of mud on her green skin, he turned his head at an angle and frowned. “Here, hold this,” he said, picking up a metal cup and sticking it in her hand.
“What’s this for?” Renna said, looking down at the cup.
Pulling out a few copper coins, he dropped them into the cup and smiled. “There, the beggar look is complete.”
Dumping the coins out into her hand, she threw them at Faine before dropping the cup and glaring at him. “I don’t care that you think I look like a vagrant. I’m warm. Maybe you should go wake up Braig and get some clothes and weapons and load them into the cart.”
Picking up the coins, he laughed as he turned and made his way back towards Gregor’s tent. Walking up the path, he picked up several of the swords and hammers and began stacking them in a pile. Opening the flap, he kicked at Braig’s foot, “Are you awake?”
“I am now,” he said with a gruff voice. Pulling the black cloth of his eyes, he sat up and looked at Faine, his eyes bleary.
“We have some dried meats fruits if you’re hungry, and water in a few skins out here.” Moving inside the tent, Faine picked up a large sack and began stuffing it with pants and tunics. “You should grab some before you go, too. It’s a long way down to Mivara, and a few changes of clothes can make the trip a little better.”
Stretching his back, Braig stood and began looking through the clothing strewn around the tent before shoving a few shirts and pants into a bag. “I know it’s a long road. I was in a cage all the way here not far from Mivara.”
“Right,” Faine said. “Sorry.” Looking around for a smaller bag, Faine stuck his head out of the tent flap and yelled for Skara. “Skara, come get some clothes!”
Coming out from behind a tent, Skara struggled to carry a large round wooden shield painted dark blue with a red bear head painted in the center and circled by a blackened metal rim.
“That’s a nice shield,” Braig said.
Faine let out a small laugh. “Maybe a bit big for you, though.”
“It’s not for me. I like my daggers. But it looked too nice to leave here.”
“If you don’t have a use for it, I could find one,” Braig said, looking at Faine and Skara.
Handing over t
he shield, Braig slid his arm through the leather strap and gripped the wooden handle, moving it up and down and punching out, feeling the weight. “This’ll do just fine,” he said, nodding his head to Skara. “But you found it, and if you want to keep it, it’s yours.”
“You keep it,” Skara said, “I’ve found enough here to last me while. I’ll be fine after I get some clothes.”
“Don’t forget your dress,” Faine said, grabbing his bag and stepping out of the tent. “Braig, can you help me load up a few these weapons on the wagons?”
Grabbing as many weapons as he could carry, he walked with Faine down to the loaded carts. Setting several in the back of their wagon, they loaded the rest onto the cart they were dropping off at Banrielle. Renna watched them as she pulled at the string of a finely carved bow.
“That’s nice,” Faine said, raising his eyebrows. “Find any arrows?”
Holding up a quiver full of arrows, Renna smiled and set them with the supplies.
“Did you find any more of those bows?” Braig said.
Renna nodded. “I could only find two more. So, we only have three total.”
Skara walked down the hill and handed his bag to Faine as he climbed up on the wagon and covered himself with a wool blanket. “Are we leaving now?”
“We have one more thing to do before we go. We know that someone’s coming back here at some point, and I don’t want them to know what happened. The beasts will take care of the bodies for the most part, but let’s stack the tents and burn them. We have what we need, and we’re taking the supplies, so there’s no need to leave them standing,” Renna said as she began tearing down tents and moving them to the center of the clearing.
After taking anything they might need and breaking down the tents, Braig climbed onto one of the wagons and took hold of the reins. Looking back at the line of horses tied to the back, he whipped the reins and steered the cart down the narrow road leading through the forest that would take them to the front gate of Banrielle. Stopping just outside of the encampment, Braig pulled the reins and waited for the other cart. “We should get moving. We need to be miles away by the time we have to make camp.”
Climbing into the back of the second wagon, Skara watched Faine climb up onto his horse, with another being led behind him.
“I’ll meet you near the field at the top of the hill. I have to go back to the cottage to get our books and gear. Renna, is everything you want ready to go there?” Faine said, turning his horse towards the road.
“Most of it,” Renna said, raising her voice as Faine trotted away. “Make sure to grab my bag of herbs and tinctures and get my books!”
Waving his hand in the air, Faine trotted past Braig and moved out of sight around a bend in the trail. Stepping towards the tents, Renna stretched out her hand inches away from the canvas and focused her power down through her fingers. Feeling the heat begin to radiate from her hand, a flame sparked to life on her palm and fell onto the pile of cloth and wood. Walking around the outside of the stack of rubble, she set several fires that began to burn towards the center, growing as it consumed the canvas.
Smiling to herself, Renna could see the white flag with the red lion catching flame as she climbed onto the cart and looked from Skara to the pyre in the center of the camp. “Not too bad for just learning to control fire,” she said, making a clicking noise with her mouth to get the horses moving. As the cart rambled forward, Skara climbed onto the front seat next to her and wrapped himself tighter in his wool blanket.
“It’s a good fire. There shouldn’t be much left here after a few days of scavengers,” Skara said, turning around to look at the bonfire behind them.
Thick smoke billowed off the blaze and swirled in the wind as the wagons moved down the road towards town. The brightly colored leaves that remained on the trees around them shivered on their bright white or rough, brown branches, gently rustling as they blew in the breeze. The sunshine filtered through the canopy and dappled the moss-covered ground around them as they rode, glinting against the drops of dew clinging to the foliage.
Leaning back, Skara stared up at the billowy white clouds that floated across the deep blue of the sky, letting himself get lost in the sounds of the hooves clopping against the dirt as the wagon wheels squeaked and groaned over the bumpy path.
Turning the corner, the two wagons meandered down the long road before pulling through the gates of Banrielle. Renna pulled the blanket that rested on her shoulders up over her head and waited outside the gates, keeping the horses steady as Braig pulled the supply cart towards the square.
Reining the horses to a stop, Braig stood and looked at the townsfolk coming out of their houses to see what was happening. Glancing around, he could see that Gregor’s body had been cut down, and there were no signs of the noose hanging from the Greencap. “These are all the horses and supplies that are left from the camp of the Brothers of The Flame. I was traveling through the area on my way here to sell my wares and spotted a row of tents through the trees. I took my cart to their camp to see if they were in the market for anything, but they were all dead. It looks like they were attacked in the night by wolves, bandits, or some other manner of foul beasts and were all killed. There was a creature there skirting the forest, but I couldn’t get a clear look at what it was. I took this cart of supplies and the horses, packed up the weapons that were scattered, and burned the tents to stop anything else from heading back into the encampment.”
The townsfolk poured from their houses at the loud bellow of the dwarf that stood near the square. Their eyes were wide with shock, and Braig could see that several of them nodded their heads to each other as if they felt a small measure of justice had been served. Setting down the reins, Braig pulled the canvas covering off the supplies and gestured to the crates loaded in the back.
“There’s food and drink here, along with blankets and weapons. And from the look of things here, the creature or people responsible may have caused trouble here before moving on to the camp, and the supplies here could help fend them off should they attack again. Most likely, someone will come to check on the camp and find it destroyed and come around here to ask questions. I would be sure to let them know about your bandit or creature issue so that they’ll be aware of the dangers in the hills around Banrielle. But for now, take these horses and supplies and use them to help farm or keep you safe.”
Jumping down from the wagon, Braig walked through the crowd of people gathered around and climbed up onto the seat next to Skara and Renna.
“That was a good spin you put on it,” Renna said, her eyes lighting up as she snapped the reins to get the cart moving. “Now, let’s get Faine and be on our way. If we make good time, we might be able to make it to Mivara in time to see some Wyldernacht performances.”
Meandering slowly up the hill, the wagon stopped next to the field to wait for Faine. Sitting on a rock, Renna watched Braig as he looked through the weapons stacked in the middle of crates. “So, how long were you in that cage before last night?”
Braig stopped digging and looked up at Renna, a scowl forming on his face. “I got caught up on the eastern side of Auren by some slavers. They sold me and stuck me in that cage and put me below decks of a ship. I don’t know how long I was there. The days and weeks blurred, and I lost track of time. The only time I could see the sunlight was when someone brought me food and water every few days. I had to sit in that dark hole for weeks before we reached land. The cargo around me shifted and slammed into the cage, keeping me awake. All I could think about was getting out of there. Then we reached the coast, and they put me on the wagon. After that, it was still weeks before you came.”
Braig’s eyes were dark as he held a sword, rubbing his thumb along the blade. His gaze looked back in the direction of the camp as his hand tightened around the hilt of a short sword, causing the cuts on his knuckles to crack open. A loud call from the woods caught his attention, and he set the sword down and looked towards the woodline beyond the field.
Faine was leading the second horse up to the cart, its back covered with several sacks loaded with their belongings. “I packed everything I could. I had to leave some of your books behind, though. I don’t think we could take ‘em all on the ship. But I made sure to grab your favorites. I also grabbed this,” Faine said, tossing a small bag to Skara. “It looks like your bones and runes. I thought you might want it.”
Catching the bag, Skara looked inside and gave a quick nod to Faine before he climbed back onto the cart and settled down on a small bundle of blankets he had made in the corner.
“Thank you for grabbing these,” Renna said, looking through the bag of books and herbs. I can sell what I don’t need when we get to Mivara.”
“Speaking of which,” Faine said, pulling out the map he had picked up in Javadi’s shop, “here we are, and here’s where we’re going. Cutting through the forest south will get us to Mivara, and when we find a ship, we can go east across the Sanjal Sea until we hit the Grey Wastes. From what I’ve heard, there were a few towns along the coast there, but they’re empty.”
“Not completely empty,” Renna said, looking up from the map.
“What do you mean, not completely?” Braig said.
“There are undead there.”
“I’d not call that empty then,” Braig said as he turned to look at Faine.
Faine scratched the back of his head and rested his hands on the wall of the cart. “So it’s not completely empty. It doesn’t have people in it. Well, living people. But from what I hear, the dead there are so scattered that you hardly see any. I don’t think we’ll have any trouble getting in and out.”
Skara laid on his bundle of blankets and listened to the three talk about the potential dangers and undead in the Wastes. Picking at a hole in the box beside him, he stuck his finger through and tapped at the bottle inside. “What choice is there?” he said quietly.
“What?” Faine said, leaning over the edge of the wagon.
“I said, what choice do we have?”
