by Ryan Peter
The storm and Desert Spiders brought a great deal of calamity upon the Dernium brigade. Once morning broke, reports of casualties came to Cadell, now recovered. Thirty three of their men had been lost, a serious number in only a band of over three hundred. Garth was obviously one of them.
The rounding up of the men and the work in getting everything organised helped Gerald get his mind off things, but when the numbers were tallied up and Garth was mentioned, Gerald felt a fresh sting of shame. Cadell seemed to notice and gave him a reassuring look.
“I am happy to not have lost you as well,” he said. “Garth died like a true Knight and there is nothing that you or I or anyone could have done to save him.”
It helped Gerald only a little. He quickly tried to change the subject to help get his mind off things.
“I heard strange noises last night, like the booming of drums,” he muttered. “But Jeroni says he heard nothing. What say you?”
Cadell stretched his lips. “I don't know, Gerald. Tell the men to keep a sharp eye.”
While Gerald continued with preparations for their journey, which included gathering up as many of the horses they could find (a great deal had run away in the storm), Cadell began to plot their journey forward. Gerald found him on his haunches under a small shaded rock, surveying his map.
“What news of the horses?” Cadell asked as he approached.
“Many have disappeared, or were found buried in rock from the collapsing of the cave,” answered Gerald. “The rest seemed to have fled in the storm, or been taken by the storm. We have just a little less than half of our steeds. Our water supply is also greatly diminished; most of it buried in that infernal cave.”
“This is much too unfortunate,” sighed Cadell. This was indeed worse than they had expected. They had, of course, expected storms; but they had been mostly prepared for that. The Desert Spiders had caught them by surprise.
Cadell pointed on his map.
“North west, west from here is a small ruin. The Ruin of Oilmun, as they call it. It leads back into Foré lands.”
Gerald looked over the map.
“We need water,” Cadell continued, sighing again through clenched teeth. “And there will be water at these ruins. There are ancient wells there. My original intention was to use it as a camp if King Walise gave us blessing to use his roads. It lies mostly in Foré lands.”
“The King won't be happy about us going back into Foré,” said Gerald.
“Obviously,” answered Cadell. “The ruin is still a part of the Colone border, but indeed my plan is most certainly not to return here.” He looked around with a disgusted-looking frown.
“You plan to take the Foré road?”
Cadell stared at the map again for a while.
“Indeed. We must. Perhaps we can find a way to remain unnoticed and slip through quickly up the road to the Meadow.”
Gerald considered this a moment. It was clear they had no choice. Not if they wanted to remain some form of an army by the time they got to Iza.
“This is the only plan we have,” Cadell said at length. “We should have resolved to do this before we came upon these accursed roads. This way we avoid those goblins who will no doubt begin to pursue us more closely.”
“Desert goblins only hunt in small groups, and fight mostly against themselves,” Gerald said. “I am sure we could easily defeat them should they attack.”
“Yes, but we are decreasing in number. And if they are desperate, and rally enough together into one group, they could rout us formidably. I don't want to lose any more of our men. We are few as it is and we still have battles to fight at the Twins.”
Gerald nodded. Cadell smiled at him. “There is one more thing. We will now travel in the day, despite our water shortage. We all felt the weight of the desert last night. It is said that one should not venture off from the road at night here or else they shall become forever lost.”
Gerald nodded. “But is it not just our superstitions having the better of us?”
“Perhaps. I have heard of many men travelling through the desert – and the Nomads too. I don't make this decision based on whether I believe it or not, but I base it on the superstitions of the men, sufficiently bolstered from last night's expedition.”
Gerald understood. It was about morale. And safety from the goblins. “I shall inform the men,” he said.
Cadell looked at him with a bigger smile. “You will be a lord yet, my friend. Thank you for attending to me last night. Yourself and Jeroni. I shall need to thank him as well.”
Gerald smiled as well but was much less elated. Becoming a lord was the only reason he was here – but he was not sure he wanted the title. It would come with a weight he would prefer not to bear. But he had been brought up to take such a position and it was his duty to continue the tradition of his adopted family. They were always very good to him.
But this reminded him again about Garth. He cursed himself under his breath as he moved off to instruct the men.
They eventually found their bearing and headed east – back to the lands of Foré; open, green and lush, where water and food would be easily available. Their hopes of seeing any of the desert nomads had not been met, and it seemed to all of them that perhaps even the nomads had disappeared either to the coast at the east or back into the other lands of Foré. There was simply no sight of them at all.
