Narro, B.T. [Jon Oklar 04] The Roots of Wrath

by B. T. Narro

  Entering Rohaer’s camp felt like entering a small city. Defined paths, almost wide enough to be called roads, divided the entire encampment. And on every path, at least one horse could be found pulling a wagon. There were huts where smelters worked, the smell of burning wood in the air. Corralled livestock took up a massive corner toward the back end, deeper south. On the other side, to the north, a large group of men seemed intent on building up a palisade as if expecting an attack.

  Are they really planning to stay here for a while? Hopefully what I was going to accomplish here would change that.

  At the far corner from where I was awaited the siege weapons. I counted three catapults and two trebuchets. There might’ve been others. I couldn’t see well from here. The demigods had already taken note of these siege weapons during their scouting. What we couldn’t tell was when they planned to use them. Now that we had shown that many more of them were likely to die if they tried to get past us on the road, would they hit our fortress with everything they had? If so, the demigods and I would probably be able to take out their siege weapons if Valinox attempted to use them without much of a distraction at the same time.

  They might opt for a siege, instead, and attempt to block us from receiving food, but I welcomed that, as I was sure many of my allies did. I was confident we could break through their lines in that scenario. It was the all-out attack to our fort that worried me the most, but at least then they wouldn’t be able to utilize their siege weapons without risk of destroying their own troops.

  I noticed the area for the sick before I found the healer. Hundreds of beds sat in rows, stretching even past the siege weapons and almost out of the camp entirely. Not every bed was occupied, as if Valinox anticipated more would fall ill soon.

  Many people stared at the arrow jutting out of my shoulder, some stopping as if to help, but I trudged past them. There was nothing they could do for me, and I think they realized this. The arrow shouldn’t be pulled out until someone was ready to patch me up. Some asked who shot me.

  I told the same thing to each one who asked: “Someone from Lycast. I didn’t see who.”

  I needed someone to direct me to the healer, but asking where he or she was would be too suspicious. As time went on, however, I became impatient.

  I figured I was used to pain more than most men. I could probably walk a while longer before the arrow embedded in my shoulder did anything to my mind, but I was now very tired of looking for the other injured, where I expected the healer to be. I made my way to one of the busier walkways between the tents. I collapsed to my knees and let out a groan.

  A small group of soldiers came to my aid. One helped me up as he asked what happened.

  “I was shot in the back while foraging a mile west,” I said. “I didn’t see who did it. Will you help me to the healer? I’ve got to get this arrow out of me.”

  “Do you have any idea who shot you?” The man led me off the busy path while the other two soldiers went with us.

  “It has to be someone from Lycast. I thought it might be a trap when they didn’t chase me. There could be a group of them waiting.”

  “Sounds like it,” agreed the soldier.

  He led me toward the infected people. As I got closer, I saw that there were injured here, but they were separated from the bedridden sick by a wide berth. There weren’t many injured lying in beds. Most sat with wrapped limbs or their torsos partially covered by bandages, as I was sure mine would be soon. I would probably also soon have the same bored look on my face.

  The soldiers left me on my own there. A blonde woman in her thirties seemed to be the only healer. I watched her cast a spell of water, forming a tiny sphere of the clear liquid that she stuck a cloth into and used to clean a gash on a man’s arm.

  I staggered over to the both of them. “I’ve been shot in the back,” I said with some alarm.

  “Mercy, come with me.”

  She led me to a table covered by a cloth, where she instructed me to lie on my stomach.

  I turned toward the sick. The first row of their beds seemed about ten yards from here. I couldn’t see anything on their bodies, like a pox or any other visible infection. I thought about projecting my mana to see if it could reach one of them and tell me something, but I feared a powerful spell like that might be sensed by this water mage or someone else in the vicinity.

  She pulled the arrow from my shoulder as I squirmed in pain. “I’m sorry,” she told me a few times during the process and then once more when it was done.

  “It’s fine,” I said as I turned toward her.

  She suddenly stood and walked away from me as she took out a handkerchief and coughed into it, all the while gesturing for me to turn away. I did so to keep up appearances.

  “Are you sick?” I asked when she returned.

  She stuffed her handkerchief back in her pocket “I am. They’ve sent for another water mage, but it’s up to me to take care of the injured until then.” Her voice verged on breaking as she spoke, tears welling in her eyes. “I’ll take care of your wound as quickly as I can and step away if I need to cough,” she said apologetically. “Take off your tunic and lie back down.”

  “I’m not worried about being sick,” I told her as I took off my tunic. “No one in my family ever falls ill. You can take your time.”

  “You shouldn’t think like that. This sickness is not like any other. I’ve seen it kill a man as strong as an ox who was completely fine just three days before he died.”

  “How do you know you have the sickness going around and not something else?”

  She pulled down the collar of her shirt to reveal white pox making their way up toward her neck. She blinked away tears as she put her collar back in place.

  This woman clearly thought she was going to die, and that might be true.

  I pitied her.

  I would heal her. I just didn’t know how yet. This was a kind woman, not one warped by dteria. In addition to her good heart was a skill with water, a rarity among sorcerers because most opted for fire, which required the same range as water.

  There were probably two hundred others just in my field of view who were sick and dying, and who I could save. Not all of them were kindhearted like this woman, but at least some of them had to be. It was depressing to think that they would die. We didn’t have to fight each other. If Rohaer gave up and turned around, they would survive.

  I had to push the thought out of my mind. Such was war. At least I could probably manage to save this woman’s life without ruining everything.

  “What are the symptoms?” I asked between groans of pain.

  She seemed confused for a moment, and I wondered if I had revealed myself with a stupid question.

  “What are your symptoms, I mean,” I corrected myself to sound a bit more casual and less like a healer. It was difficult to think clearly as she cleaned my wound. I felt like I would barely have to concentrate for more than a few seconds to heal it, the urge similar to wanting to swallow food at the back of my throat, which was something Eden had told me when it came to her struggles to resist dteria. Apparently it had stuck with me.

  “I’ll tell you in a moment. This is going to sting,” she warned me. I couldn’t see what she was doing as I felt a burning liquid being poured into my wound.

  I muffled my scream with my closed mouth.

  When it was done, she answered my earlier question. “I don’t have the fever yet, but I feel like one’s coming. I’m coughing and sneezing and finding it more difficult to breathe.”

  “You’re going to get better,” I told her with confidence.

  “Yes, I’ll be fine,” she answered absentmindedly. “Hush and be still.”

  I wondered if there was a way for me to heal her without her feeling it, but even the process of directing my mana into her body might be sensed by her or someone nearby.

  “How did you end up here?” I asked. “It doesn’t seem like you joined looking for glory and riches.”

  “
Am I that obvious? No, I was given a choice. I could either go with the army or hang for treason. So I went. I left behind my husband and child.”

  Rohaer must have been in desperate need of water mages.

  “I’m sorry that happened to you,” I told her.

  She dried my wound with a towel and had me tilt to get a bandage around my torso.

  “From how you look, I would’ve thought you’d be just as bad as most of the others. You’re not, though. I can tell you have a kind soul.”

  “You’re right,” I answered, knowing it might be a prelude to introducing the real Jon later.

  “You’re not a sorcerer?”

  “No, just a swordsman.”

  “You must have some skill, especially with one eye, for them not to eliminate you with the others.”

  Eliminate the others? I had to ponder that a moment to figure out what she meant. I assumed the army had sent off many of their troops, no doubt unable to pay all of them. There had to be some sort of test, maybe even a competition of sorts, to find out who was worth keeping. That meant we really were facing the best they had, as we’d expected.

  I could only agree with the water mage so as not to give myself away. “I have a way with a sword.”

  She gave a hum of agreement.

  “What’s your name?” I asked. “I’m Peter Welldigger.” It was the name on my papers, the name of the dead man who I hoped didn’t have many friends able to pick up his name out of the air.

  “Sondra,” she said. “Sondra Gills.”

  “Sondra!” yelled someone.

  We both looked over. My heart jumped when I saw Davon with a bunch of men around him. He screamed at Sondra again.

  “Get over here! Hurry up!”

  “Yes, sir. What is it?”

  “I told you to fill these barrels before the afternoon! I only see one of them full.” He gestured at three barrels.

  “Yes, sir,” she said in a weak voice.

  “Hurry up about it.” He turned and walked off.

  She looked back at me apologetically, for she had left my bandage loose and dangling.

  It’s all right, I tried to tell her with a wave for her to go on.

  I wrapped the bandage around me as every movement sent the feeling of splinters deeper into my back. I could barely take the pain, especially as I felt blood soaking the bandage already.

  I gave myself a quick heal, just one second of the powerful spell. It closed the wound just enough for the bandage to stop the bleeding.

  Much better.

  Over the next hour, Sondra exhausted herself trying to fill a barrel of water—something I’d seen Kataleya do in a matter of minutes. I figured Sondra probably would’ve finished by now if she wasn’t so ill, but she was looking worse with each passing moment as she broke out in a sweat and grew pale.

  As I became used to the pain in my shoulder, I began wondering why Sondra hadn’t told Davon she was too sick. She shouldn’t be anywhere near the water. Wouldn’t that lead to more infections?

  Then I realized that perhaps that’s what she intended. She must hate this army even more than I did. They had taken her away from her family, and now she was likely to die without seeing her loved ones again.

  I could see her attempting to hide her cough from here, always muffling her face with a rag that she stuffed back into her pocket immediately after. Unfortunately, she wasn’t aware that Davon had returned and saw her cough the next time. He took out his sword as he rushed at her.

  “Get away from the water, bitch! Why didn’t you tell me you’re sick?”

  I couldn’t hear what she murmured. I had to stop myself from running over to protect her. No one else was going, so I couldn’t either. I could only hope that Davon wouldn’t kill her on the spot.

  Davon kicked over the barrel of water and called for a fire mage to burn the barrel. Meanwhile, he ordered Sondra to the sick ward. Tears streamed down her face as she stumbled over to one of the beds and collapsed into it. At least she was alive.

  Someone near me called out to Davon that he needed a healer, gesturing at the bandage around his leg that was soaked with blood. Davon turned and conversed with a group of men who seemed to be following him everywhere, many with decorated uniforms. It didn’t take long for one of them to walk off and come back with Valinox.

  I instinctively wanted to hide, worried he might be able to sense me even if I dared not use my mana. The demigods had told us this was impossible for him to do, but I still had my fears.

  He looked as if he had recovered completely from his fall. I didn’t get a chance to see what had happened to him, though I figured he had been knocked unconscious before he was carried off by his people.

  What is it going to take to kill him? I didn’t know if it was feasible, or if we would have to win this war without slaying him. How long would he keep fighting if we secured victory? Would he be vengeful and foolhardy, or would he fly off to start a life elsewhere?

  He pointed in the direction of me and the dozens of others who were injured, and Davon headed toward us, no doubt following the demigod’s command. Davon walked right past me without bothering to look at me or any of the other injured as he stopped among us.

  “I’ve been informed that another water mage will be here shortly,” Davon announced. “Tend to yourselves until then.”

  He walked back the way he had come, leaving a number of people murmuring in what sounded to be frustration and confusion.

  I didn’t know if it was because of their unexpected battle loss or because dteria had sapped their ability to reason, but I was pleasantly surprised at how disorganized our enemies seemed to be. I could only imagine what the camp would look like after I finished what I came here to do.

  To get away with it, I had to wait for nightfall, which was many hours away. I figured I should try to get some rest while I could, but I was too interested in finding out what else I might be able to see. I sat up and looked around the encampment for a long while.

  Sondra had stopped coughing and seemed to be asleep. The poor woman had clearly exhausted herself trying to fill a barrel of water in what had looked to be an attempt to infect others. I still had no idea how I was going to help her, but I needed to.

  Unfortunately, what I soon noticed was going to make everything even more difficult.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  There was one man among the sick who stood out from everyone else. He might’ve been the largest man I had ever seen, but there he lay in a bed, not moving, without the faintest hint of strength.

  I knew I should not go over there. I was supposed to remain unnoticed until night. There were greater things at stake.

  Evening came and went. Someone brought by a cart with bowls of cold barley soup and stale bread for the injured. It might’ve been the most unpleasant meal I’d had in the last year. Had I not closed my wound partially, I would’ve been in too much pain to eat by my own power. It seemed that many others were in this position, the injured beckoning each other for assistance in getting down their soup. However, most people wanted to keep their distance because of the sickness.

  The same meal was provided to the sick, but as the cart went around, hardly any sat up to partake. It seemed as if Valinox cared little about these people who might recover with a bit more assistance, and soon I saw why that was.

  A group of hundreds entered the encampment from the south, no doubt new recruits in fresh tabards of black. Among them was a man who turned out to be the new water mage, though I soon found he was even less experienced than Sondra as he spent the rest of the day clearly overwhelmed with the number of injured he had abruptly become responsible for.

  Valinox did not care if these people lived or died because he did not expect them to recover soon enough to be worthwhile. That told me something else. Whatever he had planned would likely happen in the near future. He did not want to draw this war on for long.

  At least I could relax somewhat while waiting for nightfall. It didn’t
seem like I would be found out. Through my hours of observation, I discovered that all food originated from northeast of my current location. I couldn’t see where it was stored, but I knew there had to a locked shed close to the mountains. Our spy had told us this.

  I waited a few more hours, until most everyone who could sleep was already out. There were a number of injured who were in too much pain to stay asleep for long stretches at a time, but I doubted they would care about one of us getting up and walking over to the sick ward.

  I completely healed the wound in my shoulder, then made my way over to the huge man. I knew I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t stop myself. A few torches burned around the camp, providing just enough light for me to locate him among the hundreds of sick who coughed and wheezed endlessly.

  I stood over his massive form. “Mr. Craw, I’m a friend of your son, Graham,” I whispered.

  He did not respond as he wheezed and struggled to breathe. I could faintly see the mark of pox on his neck. He looked and sounded like a monstrous beast in this dim light.

  “Mr. Craw,” I tried a little louder this time and gave his shoulder a little shake.

  He did not respond. Perhaps he was too far gone, but not for my mana.

  Somebody mumbled something nearby. I turned around to face him, but he was just someone else murmuring in his sleep, pain in his voice.

  I closed my eyes and put my hand over Graham’s father to let my mana investigate this sickness. It made one of Valinox’s curses look like child’s play. The infection ran deep. It had brought out a fight response from his body. A war still raged in his chest, but it was nearly over, his body weakened and on the brink of defeat. If I was going to bring him back, I needed to do more than get rid of his infection, as there was damage everywhere.

  The only reason I knew my mana was up to such a task was because I had healed that terrible sickness in the stomach of that young man in Kataleya’s town of Livea. I knew how to do it.