Soldiers of Avarice
Page 31
Erag was suddenly engulfed in Sayana’s flames, blinding him momentarily as his howls of agony echoed through the caves. It was at this moment that an enraged Pacian appeared behind the blinded savage and drove both of his daggers into Erag’s back, finally dropping the hulking warrior.
“Insolent upstart!” Tald cried out, dismayed at the loss of his powerful ally, and raised his staff in retaliation. Aiden cringed in anticipation of another stroke of lighting, but aside from a few sparks crackling from the tip, nothing happened.
An arrow sank into the shaman’s shoulder, staggering the old man backwards momentarily as Colt, armed with his longbow, limped into the battle.
Nellise was behind him, clad once more in her breastplate. With tears streaming from her blackened eyes, she clutched at her crystal and whispered her prayers, holding back Tald’s attempts at summoning the elemental forces of nature. This seemed to enrage the shaman even further, and he slammed his staff onto the ground once more in an attempt to overpower Nellise’s efforts.
“No, you shall not,” she uttered with determination, again dispersing the build-up of power that threatened to end their lives, a nimbus of white light surrounding her. Colt loosed arrow after arrow at the shaman, who fell to his knees, bleeding profusely from the assault.
It was Sayana who finished him off once and for all, embedding her thrown axe in his chest. The near-silence of the cave was broken only by the sounds of their heavy breathing, the fight having taken all they could muster.
Aiden grimaced as the adrenaline began to dissipate, and the pain from his wounds became more noticeable. Then, overwhelmed by the sudden realization of how many people he’d slain, he fell to his knees and vomited.
When he was done, Aiden was trembling like a leaf, feeling weak and mortal once again. This wasn’t the time to dwell on what he’d just done, however; they were still in danger, and somehow had to find a way out of here.
After wiping his mouth, Aiden threaded the scepter into his belt and staggered over to Morik, who was lying against the wall, his breath coming in shallow gasps.
“Don’t you dare die on us,” Aiden cautioned him.
“I wouldn’t dream of going back on my word,” Morik replied, a half-smile on his lips. “If you would be so kind as to put my blood back inside me, I would be very grateful.”
“We’ll see what we can do,” Aiden muttered, hiding his true feelings as he looked down at the wounded man. Colt made his way over to Morik and began wrapping a tourniquet around him to staunch the bleeding. Turning to look over at Nellise, Aiden could see that she was sitting on the floor, her face covered by her hands as she continued to weep. He had no idea what sort of strength it had taken for her to join in the fight after what she had witnessed.
Aiden limped over and crouched down beside her, wanting to give comfort, and feeling awkward about having to ask for more from her.
“Nel, I know you’re hurting right now, but we’re in pretty bad shape,” Aiden whispered soothingly, not sure if she was even hearing his words. “I think Morik may be dying, and we need him to pull his people back from the brink of war. We need you to heal him — do you think you can do that?”
Nellise didn’t respond immediately, but sat clutching at the symbol of her faith with all her strength. Slowly, she nodded, sniffling back her tears and wiping her face with a piece of her robe. She held the crystal in her hand and began whispering her prayers. Aiden picked himself up and limped over to check on Pacian, who was sitting with his back against the wall.
“I don’t think I can do any more killing today, Aiden,” he remarked absently, sounding strange through a broken nose. “Can we go home now?”
“That’s the plan,” Aiden mumbled, practically collapsing next to him while they awaited Nellise’s healing prayer. The faintest hint of a summer breeze wafted through the air, and everyone present took stock of what they had survived. Aiden stared at nothing, watching the images of himself during the fight flit through his mind as if he were an outsider to his own actions.
A few minutes passed, and Nellise finally slumped as the healing was completed. Aiden hoped it was enough, for they could ask no more of her this day.
“We’ve really got to get Nel back to town,” Pacian said, truly concerned about her. “She’s been through hell down here.”
“Why don’t you go and take care of her,” Aiden advised. “I’ll check on Morik.” Pacian nodded and went to Nellise, while Aiden hoped their ally was ready to take over the leadership of his people.
The chief, however, had more pressing concerns. “You and your people need to leave as soon as possible, for I cannot guarantee your safety until I have solidified my position as chief.”
“Will they even accept you, considering you helped kill Erag?” Aiden inquired.
The chief answered this by moving over to Erag’s burned corpse. He shifted the head with the toe of his boot, then swung his axe to cleanly sever Erag’s head from his body. “Yes,” Morik said flatly, placing the head on the ground for the time being.
“Don’t forget this one, too,” Pacian remarked, pointing down at Tald’s prone form.
“I don’t think we’re going to make it out past the camps outside,” Colt grunted as Morik did his grisly work. “Could you talk to them before we leave?”
“No, but there is another exit you can take in the rear of the caves. Come, I will show you.”
They followed him down the corridor and through to the next chamber, a smaller area than the storage room, and with many chairs strewn around the floor. Inside was a large wooden table, on which was a platter of meat and ale, along with piles of equipment taken from the Aielish forces.
A fireplace with a metal pipe funneled smoke from the roaring fire through a square hole in the ceiling. Visible behind the smoke was a metal ladder embedded into the wall itself.
“That ladder leads to a hidden entrance, above us, on the side of the hill,” Morik explained to Aiden as Colt gathered up some essential gear from the pile. “From there, you can travel northwest, avoiding contact with my people and returning you to safety.”
“What is all this?” Sayana asked, leafing through papers upon the table. Aiden leaned forward and saw what appeared to be a crude map, drawn in charcoal, with scrawled notes written in Aielish on accompanying sheaves of parchment. It was clearly a battle plan to take over the region, complete with supply drops and withdraw locations so extensive hit-and-run tactics could be employed.
The mountains they were currently in were on the southern part, with a large circle around what would be the Akoran encampment. A simple drawing of a house was sketched in where Coldstream would be, and to the left of it, another representing Bracksford.
A large arrow pointed from the Akoran base to both towns, clearly depicting their planned path of attack. From what he could discern in the notes, the battle was going to start in only a few days’ time, after another tribe of warriors arrived to support the effort from the north.
“If we’d left this much longer, they’d have stormed through the entire region,” Aiden muttered to himself, rolling up the battle plans and tucking them in under his tunic. “I think we’re done here. I hope you can settle your people down, because we really don’t need another war right now.”
“I will convince them of my legitimacy, I can assure you of that,” Morik said, giving Aiden an appraising glance. “For a warlock, you seem honorable enough, though I would one day like to see your prowess without the aid of spectral forces. My people have no love for your kind, but I thank you for your aid this day, and hope that our paths may cross again in the future.”
“Warlock? I’m not a...” Aiden started to protest, and then considered how he looked striking down their enemies with beams of light. “Okay, maybe I dabble in the arcane arts a little, but as Tald mentioned, it is borrowed power. The only real sorcerer here is Sayana, and you should be thanking her as well, particularly since she was once one of your people.”
M
orik look startled and gave the red-headed girl another shrewd look, then spoke a few words to her in his native language. “Kerik White-wolf,” she replied to his question in Aielish, “though I’m sure he believes I am dead. Do you remember the elven lady he took as a wife?”
Morik looked at her with disbelief. “You are the child who was lost to us years ago?” he breathed. “I heard you had wandered off on a hunting expedition.”
A tear trickled down Sayana’s cheek as her emotional dam burst. Moments later, a chill wind filled the room as Colt scaled the ladder above the fireplace and found the trapdoor Morik had spoken of.
“One of the hunters saw me performing some minor sorcery, and he struck me over the head and left me to die,” Sayana sobbed. “He said something about having kept an eye on me in case I turned out like my mother.”
Morik nodded slowly, then turned his head at the sounds of approaching warriors. “You must go, now, but we will meet again. That, I can promise.
“I will somehow make this right with you, Sayana, when things are peaceful again. Please, leave before you’re discovered.”
Aiden hastened over to Nellise, who was still lying barely coherent on the cushions. “I will take her up through the secret passage,” Sayana declared, wiping tears from her eyes as she stepped forward to lift the exhausted cleric over her shoulder.
She struggled with the weight, but with Pacian’s help, managed to lift her over to the base of the shaft, where the wild girl somehow found a hidden reserve of strength and simply levitated them both upward through the opening.
Although it had been cold down in the cave, the freezing air was still a slap in the face as Aiden emerged from the top of the shaft into the bleak, frigid wasteland of the High Plains. The wind had died down a great deal, and stars shone through the clouds as the foul weather slowly broke up.
Colt pressed ahead silently, with Sayana leading them out through the rocky hillside they had used to approach the camp in the first place.
They traveled for well over an hour before Aiden felt they had left the Akoran camp far enough behind them, feeling fortunate they had encountered no more patrols on their way out. Colt called for a quick break, and they gathered under the sparse trees that provided a modicum of shelter on the plain.
“I think we should cut across land to Bracksford,” he advised breathlessly, leaning on his greatsword as one would a staff. “It’ll save time, and Olaf and Sergeant Tara should know what’s happened as soon as possible. We’ll send word to Coldstream from there.”
“A fair point,” Aiden agreed. “All right, northwest it is, then. We’ll find a place to rest in a couple of hours.”
With his adrenaline rush gone and the incantations dispelled, Aiden felt very, very ordinary as they continued onward. Soon, the ordeal of the past day began to catch up with him, each step forward becoming a struggle to stay upright.
They found a small clearing in amongst the trees to set up their camp, and everyone except Aiden collapsed as soon as it was decided this was where they’d rest. Thanks to the goggles, he was able to quickly gather kindling and build a campfire by the faint moonlight above. After nearly a minute of unsuccessfully trying to light it with flint and steel, flames suddenly sprang forth from the tinder, startling Aiden, who was quite certain it wasn’t his doing.
“You might have warned me,” he admonished Sayana, who was lying on a bedroll a couple of yards away, barely visible from underneath her heavy winter cloak, with one hand extended towards the fire.
She didn’t reply, instead closing her eyes and taking a deep breath as she drifted off to sleep, leaving Aiden to stand watch alone until morning.
* * *
It was a testament to how worn out the others were that they slept right through the most beautiful sunrise Aiden had seen in months. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and the faint heat of the winter sun was enough to warm his face as he closed his eyes and bathed in the light.
It had been a quiet night, without any sign of patrolling Akorans or wild animals, and Aiden was looking forward to getting some rest once they arrived at Bracksford. As the dawn brightened, he noticed they had made camp next to an old graveyard, now overgrown with vines and almost unrecognizable, save for the entrance to a mausoleum in amongst the foliage.
It was made of stone, and despite its cracked and weathered exterior seemed to be mostly intact. The clearing was a curious place to camp, and given the choice, not the location Aiden would have chosen.
He noticed Nellise was awake and peering at him with an inscrutable expression. Aiden suspected that questions concerning his apparent return from the dead would be forthcoming, and he was not disappointed.
“I saw you die,” Nellise said quietly, the first words she had spoken since they left Akoran lands.
“You saw me injured and knocked out, perhaps,” Aiden conceded, unwilling to tell anyone about his otherworldly experience.
“You were struck right in the head, Aiden,” Nellise pressed. “Nobody survives something like that.”
“I’m not going to contest that point,” he shrugged, poking at the fire with a large stick. “But I have a perfectly reasonable explanation for my reappearance.”
“There’s no need to explain it; I already know the answer.”
“You do?”
“Yes, God sent you back to save us.”
Aiden blinked, caught off guard by her answer and unsure if he should attempt to correct her. Then he realized what the look had been about — absolute faith. She thought she was looking upon an angel, or something similar, sent by God to pull them out of hell, and it was this knowledge that was allowing her to deal with the ordeal she’d endured.
“I’m not really sure what happened,” he lied. “I woke up in the snow, and I knew I had to try and save you all. It was only with the aid of the relics I’d recovered from Ferrumgaard that I could pull off that rescue, though. I wonder what Clavis would have thought of it?”
“I can’t speak for the dead,” she mused, “but I think you certainly honored his memory. Thank you, Aiden. I don’t want to think about what would have become of us if you hadn’t...”
Nellise’s veneer of control crumbled, and she visibly recoiled from the memories of so many dead. A look of such pain twisted her face that Aiden didn’t know what to do.
Pacian had stirred during their conversation, and upon seeing her suffering, moved to comfort her. “Don’t touch me,” she gasped, pulling back from his outstretched hand, wrapping the cloak tightly around herself and stumbling off into the nearby bushes.
“This is exactly what I was talking about,” Pacian muttered, a dark expression on his face. “She went in there expecting tea and crumpets, and look what those bastards did to our people. Well, from now on, I’m doing things my way, whether she likes it or not. Excuse me, nature’s calling,” he added, stalking off into another part of the camp.
“That’s not gonna go well,” Colt remarked, unimpressed with Pacian’s attitude. “But enough about that. How the hell did you do all that fancy sorcery last night, anyway? And Nel’s right; you were stone dead after that axe hit you.”
“I ... met an old acquaintance,” Aiden replied evasively, glancing meaningfully at Sayana, who was watching the whole scene with interest from under her cloak. “He is a master of healing, and was able to get me back on my feet.
“As for the sorcery, well, as I told Nel, it all came from Ferrumgaard. That old wizard saved our lives with his little stash of scrolls, not to mention this thing,” he added, hefting the scepter.
“Show me that,” Sayana asked in her usual peremptory fashion. Aiden walked over and handed it to her, watching with interest as she stared at it for a long minute. “I thought as much,” she whispered to herself.
“What is it?” Aiden asked cautiously.
“Its power is depleted,” she answered, handing the scepter back to him. “You have been channeling power to it all along. Amazing.”
“I’d really l
ike to know how I’m managing to do this,” he replied. “Maybe I can ask the dragon.”
Sayana glanced over at Colt, who was starting to cook breakfast over the fire, then grabbed Aiden by the shoulder and pulled him closer. “Did it speak of me?” she whispered harshly, looking him straight in the face.
“I – yes, actually,” he sputtered, caught off guard by her sudden intensity. “I asked why it attacked you in the dream, and it seemed angry when I mentioned you, saying that you were not invited.”
Sayana continued looking at him for a long, searching moment, then reached up and touched the shard hanging around Aiden’s neck. She instantly flinched in pain, shaking her hand from what seemed to be a mild burn. He looked at her hand and indeed, saw a small red welt where she had touched the shard.
“Something is wrong,” she whispered, staring in to Aiden’s eyes. “You’re different, somehow. I don’t know what it is. Something is ... missing.”
The hairs on the back of Aiden’s neck stood on end at this, and he didn’t know how to respond. Sayana backed away from him a little, looking coiled and ready to run away at a moment’s notice.
“Sy, it’s me,” Aiden insisted, scarcely believing her reaction. “I don’t feel any different, I don’t think any different. I’m the same man I was yesterday.”
“That creature has taken a part of you as payment,” she hissed. “You may not feel it now, but eventually you will find out what it took. You have become its puppet, Aiden, and I’m not sure I can trust you.”
She turned and stormed out of the clearing, leaving Aiden to stand there confused. “What’s all that about?” Colt asked from nearby.
“I wish I knew,” Aiden replied, genuinely mystified as he looked off into the foliage where Sayana had vanished.
Chapter Twenty
As the morning wore on, the group breakfasted on some of the preserved meat Colt had taken from the Akoran supplies. They ate in silence, partly because they were hungry and exhausted, but also because recent events continued to drive them apart.