“Oh, about two hundred warriors, plus twice as many injured,” said Ascarla. “And, though Sinmo is larger and stronger than most plains towns, that is still a heavy burden on our fighting forces. It’s why we’ve distributed swords to every man of fighting age in this town; it’s the only way we can get the numbers we need to defend our homes from those monsters.”
“How awful,” said Helnia, shaking her head. “I can’t believe that so many people need to be armed.”
“It’s not a problem, madam mage,” said Ascarla. He glanced at his own sword. “The people of Sinmo—and I include myself among them—are more than happy to protect our lands and our homes from anyone who seeks to invade us. But we will still need help.”
“Is that why you wanted to speak with us?” said Sarzen. “Because you need backup?”
“More or less, because you are some of the first travelers associated with the Elect to come here in many months,” said Ascarla. He rested his teacup on his plate and sighed. “We’ve implored the Elect to send backup, even just a few dozen more soldiers, but they have ignored our every request for aid. I was hoping that you might be able to speak to the Elect for us on that matter.”
“I’m sorry, but we’re not going to be in contact with the Elect for a while, because we’re heading toward the Cursed Lands and do not know when we will return,” said Sarzen. “I’m afraid there’s not much we can do to help you or your people.”
“Actually, I am going to send a letter back to the Elect today to let them know that we’ve arrived safely in Sinmo,” said Misma, who was petting Icicle, which was curled up in her lap like a cat. “They asked me to send them a message once we arrived here, though, of course, I haven’t had a chance to do that yet.”
“Madam mage, will you please mention that we require reinforcements here in Sinmo?” said Ascarla, turning to look at her with pleading eyes. “We need as much aid as we can get.”
“Don’t you have any mages?” said Helnia, causing Ascarla to look at her again. “Sinmo is supposed to have the largest Raugus walls in the plains. Why do you not have any mages who can take advantage of that to defend the town?”
“We did have mages, but many have been killed or kidnapped by the Draymens and we’ve been unable to train more to replace them,” Ascarla said. “We have only a small handful of mages now, but they cannot defend the entire town by themselves. That is why we need reinforcements, especially mages, who could potentially turn the tide of war or at least make it costly for Draymens raiding parties to attack our town.”
“Kidnap?” said Helnia. She leaned forward, looking at Ascarla in curiosity. “Did you say that the Draymens are kidnapping human mages?”
“Yes,” said Ascarla. “We don’t know what they do with their kidnapped victims, because most of their attacks happen during the night and it becomes impossible to track them down after we beat them back. We think they are using their victims as slaves, but we are not sure.”
“So the Draymens are building up their slave empire, it seems,” said Rothel in disgust. “The bastards.”
“That they are,” said Ascarla. “But again, we’ve been unable to spare even one person to search for the slaves. Given how close we are to the Cursed Lands, it’s possible that they have taken the slaves out of Yores entirely, which makes rescuing them even more difficult.”
“That’s not good,” said Sarzen. He looked at Misma urgently. “Misma, you need to ask the Elect to send backup to Sinmo. The people here need help.”
Misma just sipped from her tea, seemingly without a care in the world, while her little snow monkey looked up at her in confusion, as if wondering why she had stopped petting it. Helnia was under the impression that Misma wasn’t exactly happy about the pressure she was receiving from Sarzen and Ascarla, even though their requests seemed reasonable to Helnia.
“I will consider it,” said Misma finally. “If the Elect refuse to give you aid, there may be a good reason for it.”
“A good reason to allow these monsters to conquer our homes and kill our women and children?” said Ascarla in shock. But then he shook his head and said, in a calmer voice, “Excuse me for my outburst, madam mage. I was just … I hoped you would have enough empathy to understand our plight.”
“I do understand it,” said Misma. “But that doesn’t mean I –or the Elect—have to do anything about it.”
Helnia was taken aback by Misma’s cold response. Granted, Misma did not exactly have a reputation for being a kindhearted lady, but just refusing to promise to do anything about the Draymens attacks on Sinmo seemed like a new low to Helnia.
“Then why are you even here?” said Ascarla. “Why did you even come on this journey if you aren’t going to show sympathy for the plight of your fellow Yoresians?”
“Because the Elect told me to,” said Misma. “Nothing more, nothing less.”
Ascarla apparently couldn’t think of a reply to that answer. He just looked down into his tea, as if he was truly without hope now. Helnia felt sorry for him, even though she barely knew the guy, because she knew what it was like to lose your village to Draymens and she would not want to wish that fate on anybody else.
But then Sarzen stood up and looked down at Misma with a stern face. “Misma, I want you to mention the plight of the people of Sinmo in your letter to the Elect and ask for backup.”
“You can’t force me to do it,” said Misma, meeting Sarzen’s stare with her own cold glare. “So you can say whatever you want, but it won’t do you much help.”
“Actually, it will,” said Sarzen. He folded his arms across his chest. “Because if you don’t mention their plight in your letter, I will not let you leave with us for the Cursed Lands. That means that the Elect will not be able to keep tabs on what we’re doing.”
Misma’s eyes widened, as if she had genuinely not seen that coming. “You can’t be serious. The Elect ordered me to join your team. I am supposed to come with you. That’s part of the deal.”
“No one says I have to uphold it, especially if I have reason to believe that someone like you might just slow us down,” said Sarzen. “And it isn’t like Ascarla or anyone else in Sinmo would object to me leaving you here. Right, Mayor?”
Ascarla nodded. “Yes, Acolyte. A mage like her would be useful to have around, for sure.”
“What if I just choose to leave Sinmo and go back to Ars on my own?” said Misma. “After all, Ascarla doesn’t have any authority to detain me here.”
“You could try, but I doubt you’d make it far before the Draymens got you,” said Sarzen. “It’s difficult enough to cross the plains when you travel with allies; as a solo traveler, I doubt you’d even survive long enough to see the mountain gates.”
Misma pursed her lips and appeared to be trying to come up with a good argument against Sarzen’s. Her pet monkey looked up at her again, though this time it seemed to be trying to see what her response would be, rather than wondering why she wasn’t petting it anymore.
Finally, after several seconds of silence, Misma nodded and said, “Okay. I will mention the problems that the people of Sinmo are currently facing in the letter. I will even throw in a mention about Mayor Ascarla’s need for backup, too.”
Sarzen smiled. “Good. How does that sound to you, Mayor?”
“It sounds very good to me,” said Ascarla, who was now smiling even wider than Sarzen. “It would be especially good if I had a chance to look at the letter before it is sent out; you know, just to ensure that you are not merely saying this to placate us.”
Misma looked annoyed, but when Sarzen looked at her again, she grudgingly said, “Fine. I will let you read it before I send it to them. But don’t waste time, because I want to send out the letter before the sun goes down.”
“Of course,” said Ascarla. “I would never delay a call for reinforcements unnecessarily.”
“Then it’s settled,” said Sarzen. He yawned. “Now, I think that is all we need to talk about. So, Mayor Ascarla, could you
have one of your servants show us where we need to stay for the night? We are very tired after many long days of travel and I think we would all like to see where we are going to spend the night.”
***
Chapter Twelve
The party was given a place to stay in a local inn, called the Horse’s Bridle. It was a rather large inn, larger than you’d expect to find in a town the size of Sinmo, and each member of the expedition was given their own room. Each room, from what Helnia could tell, was identical to every other room; a simple twin bed, plus a bath tub and sink and a dresser in which to put their clothes. Helnia’s room also had a window, with a red curtain that she pulled in front of it to protect her privacy. Sarzen’s room was next to hers, while Rothel’s room was next to his, which put all three of them close enough together to be able to help each other in case something happened. Misma’s room was opposite hers, which Helnia had only noticed because she had bumped into Misma earlier when she was leaving her room.
Before he left, the servant who had taken them to the inn told them that Ascarla was going to have a dinner at his house later tonight and that they were all invited. Helnia and the others accepted it, mostly out of politeness and also because they were hungry and looking forward to whatever Ascarla was going to serve.
That was why Helnia—instead of taking a nap—was now resting in the warm water of her room’s bath. Neither she nor any of the other members of the expedition had bathed at all during their trip from Ars to Sinmo, and they had no way of knowing if they would ever have a chance to do that again once they left this town, so Helnia was going to take advantage of her bath tub as much as she could.
The hot water felt nice against her skin, especially when she used her brush to scrape off the dirt and grime that had accumulated over the last three days of travel. But soon, Helnia’s thoughts drifted to her and Sarzen’s parents and the letter they had sent her.
Helnia had brought the letter along with her before they left Ars. It was in her bag, which was on her bed at the moment and which she could not see due to the shower curtain around her tub. She had not looked at the letter or even mentioned it to Sarzen or anyone else since leaving Ars. She supposed that she should have, but at the same time she still had her doubts about its authenticity and did not want to get Sarzen’s hopes up that their parents might still be alive.
But what if they are still alive? Helnia thought. If we survive our journey into the Cursed Lands, there’s a very good chance that we might see them at Ferro’s Pass. Shouldn’t I tell Sarzen about the letter ahead of time just so he won’t be shocked if we see them?
Helnia scrunched her hair and brushed more dirt out of it. She wished that she didn’t have the letter, because normally she never kept secrets from Sarzen. Or, at least, not important ones like this, the kind that could potentially change the way they looked at the world forever. She wondered briefly if Sarzen was keeping any secrets from her before dismissing that thought.
Maybe I need to sleep on this some more, Helnia thought. In the morning, I’ll read the letter again, and if I think it’s real—
Helnia’s thoughts were interrupted by a creaking of the floorboards nearby. She froze when she heard the sound. At first, she thought that maybe she had heard a floorboard creaking from the next room over, because the walls of the inn were not particularly thick, but then she heard the creak again, which was very clearly coming from the other side of her tub’s curtain. The curtain was too thick to see through, however, so Helnia had no idea who was on the other side.
Nor did she want to know. Fear rose inside her as she realized that she was naked and unarmed in her tub. She didn’t even have her Raugus beads; she had placed them on the dresser when she had undressed because she hadn’t wanted to bring them into the tub with her. Now, however, she was starting to realize just how dumb a decision that had been.
Helnia didn’t know how someone could have entered without her knowledge, because the door and window were closed, but that didn’t matter. Helnia grabbed her brush and held it with both hands. It was a pathetic weapon, but it was also the only thing that Helnia had that she could even use as a weapon.
The floorboard creaked again, almost making Helnia jump, but she caught herself and stayed as still as possible. She listened intently, trying to hear any other sounds, but whoever was on the other side of her curtain was being very quiet.
I should scream, Helnia thought. That way, Sarzen, Rothel, and the others will hear me and will come to my rescue.
But Helnia couldn’t find the courage to scream. She feared that if she screamed, the person who had sneaked into her room would just kill her and leave. With the door to her room locked, it would take Sarzen and the others precious seconds to break in, seconds Helnia might not have.
Helnia bit her lower lip. As frightened as she was, Helnia realized that she would need to defend herself. She came up with a plan: She would stand up, rip open the curtain, and hit the stalker over the head with her brush. She would then jump out of the tub and run to the door, unlock it, and escape while shouting for help. It was a risky plan, but it was also her only real chance of survival.
So Helnia slowly but surely rose from her tub, water running down her dripping wet body. The floorboards stopped creaking, but even though Helnia was fairly tall, she could not see over the curtain. Nor did she want to; she wanted to make sure that the person who had broken into her room didn’t know that she knew that he was there.
Helnia was cold in the air with her wet body, in contrast to her feet and ankles in the warm water. She shivered, but didn’t go back into the tub. She just held the brush by her side, grabbed the side of the curtain, and yanked it back.
There was no one on the other side.
Helnia looked around her small room, even looked up at the ceiling, but she was all alone in her room. The door was still closed, as was the window, and her things and clothes were still on her bed where she had left them. Her necklace hadn’t moved from its current position on the dresser, either.
Shivering again, Helnia thought, Was I just hearing things? Was I just letting my nerves get the best of me?
Helnia grabbed a towel hanging off a nearby hanger and wrapped it around her body. Hesitantly, she stepped out of the tub, still gripping her brush like a knife, and looked around, even though there was nowhere for anyone to hide.
It must have just been my imagination, Helnia thought, relaxing slightly. I’ve been so tense ever since we left Ars that I’m starting to hear—
A loud crash caused Helnia to jump so high that she nearly bumped her head against the ceiling of her room. She dropped her towel and slipped on her own wet feet and fell onto the floor, which was cold and hard against her wet, naked skin. She immediately realized that she was in a vulnerable position and expected to get attacked or even killed by her attacker.
But when she looked around, expecting to see a Draymens assassin jump out of nowhere and attack her, she still didn’t see anyone in here but herself.
But I heard a crash, Helnia thought, hesitantly pushing herself up on her elbows. She grabbed her towel and held it against her body, though it wasn’t of much use in keeping her warm now. Where did it come—
That was when a muffled scream pierced the air, which Helnia soon realized was coming from outside her room, possibly from the room opposite hers. The room, that is, that held Misma.
Helnia scrambled to her feet, drying off her body with her towel as best as she could. She didn’t have time to get dressed, so once she was sufficiently dry, she tossed her towel to the side, slipped on her mage robes to hide her nakedness, and grabbed her beads. She ran over to the door and, after fiddling with the lock, opened it, but she could not run out into the hall because there were already a lot of people standing out there. All of them were other inn guests or people who were part of the caravan traveling to the Cursed Lands, but they were crowded together so closely around the door to the room opposite hers that Helnia couldn’t even step out in th
e hallway.
“What’s going on?” said Helnia to a young woman, probably about her age, standing close by. “I heard a scream and a crash.”
“We did, too,” said the young woman in a distressed voice. “The men are trying to open the door to that room, but—”
“Out of my way!” said Sarzen as he pushed through the small crowd of people. “Let me at it!”
The people parted, allowing Sarzen to stand in front of the door. Helnia gripped her doorway with one hand, her beads in the other, as she watched Sarzen draw his sword and slash the doorknob off the door with a single strike of his blade before he kicked in the door and ran inside.
But just as Sarzen went inside, he let out a gasp and said, “By the Six Names of the Dragon Gods!” prompting someone outside of the room to shout, “What is it?”
Helnia, however, was so terrified that she had to see it herself. She pushed past the people around her and ran into the room, thinking to provide her brother with backup, but when she saw what Sarzen had seen, she came to a stop and felt sick.
Lying on top of a writing desk, the quill still in her hand, was Misma. And she was dead, a knife sticking out of the back of her head, blood leaking out of her wound.
***
Chapter Thirteen
Hours later, Sarzen and Rothel stood outside the Horse’s Bridle, watching as the workers from the Sinmo graveyard moved Misma’s shrouded corpse out of the inn. They would have moved her corpse out of the place much sooner, but Sarzen had ordered the place evacuated in order to search for the killer, though they had failed to find Misma’s killer. They watched as the grave keepers placed Misma’s corpse into the back of a cart, which was then wheeled away to the morgue, where it would be kept until they could contact her family and get funeral arrangements.
It was late evening now, with the sun starting to set in the distance. Their dinner with Mayor Ascarla had been postponed due to these events and nearly everyone at the inn was shaken up. Sarzen had even seen a few of the inn’s guests pack up and leave, most likely to search for a safer place to stay for the night. Sarzen and his friends were not leaving, but Sarzen understood their motivations nonetheless.
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