The others looked where he'd pointed, shaking their heads. "I don't see anything," Aric said. "You sure, Berig?"
Berig pointed again. "Yeah, it's just past the third row of trees."
"I can only see one row of trees," Ander said. "The mist's too thick."
Strange. Berig had always suspected he had better eyesight than others, a useful ability for a thief, but he'd never seen it proven like this.
"Maybe I can just see through the mist better," he said. "Who knows?"
Danica peered into the mist. "It can't hurt to check."
Ander nodded, then led the group in the direction Berig had indicated. They stayed a good ten feet from the edge of the black pool, but the ground still squelched beneath them. Soon they reached the path Berig had seen, which stretched across the lake like a finger.
Berig stepped as close as he dared, close enough to see the lake's other side. Another long finger reached out from there, hanging strangely above the water. Between the two fingers were thick branches sprouting from a large tree.
"Well, there's a path," Berig said. "Looks stable enough."
Ander frowned. "Can you tell how far this lake goes?"
"I can see farther," Berig said, "but not that much farther."
"The less time we spend here, the better."
Startled, Berig turned to see that Farah had spoken. He'd almost forgotten she was part of the group.
"I think she's right," Berig said. "We'll be fine."
"Then you can go first," Ander said. "You're the smallest."
Berig's stomach twisted into knots. When he'd mentioned the path, he hadn't expected to cross it before everyone else, but he'd known the risks when he'd started on this journey.
Time to show a little bravery for once. "Okay, I'll go. What could go wrong?"
Berig stepped onto the fingerlike outcropping, an elevated structure of mud and rock. The ground seemed solid enough, but would it remain that way?
Something growled in the distance, but he ignored it. Bigger things to worry about right now. He reached the edge of the outcropping and hesitated where the tightly packed tree branches formed a small bridge. Would it hold his weight? Would dying in the black water hurt?
"We can still turn back," Ander said. "There should be another way."
"No, I can do this," Berig said. He took a deep breath, inhaling the swamp's foul odor, then stepped onto the tree bridge. The branch was a few feet wide, and smaller branches hung off to the side like railings. Beyond the railings were other large branches, but no additional railings. Holding onto these natural—or perhaps magical—railings, he inched across the bridge.
The branch beneath him didn't complain, and he reached the other side without incident, feeling suddenly braver.
"It's okay," he called out, barely glimpsing the others through the thick mist. They followed one person at a time. Danica and Farah crossed first, trailed by Aric, Talia, Graig and Ander—all of whom made it without incident.
Finally, Captain Davis crossed. As the largest, he was the greatest risk. The giant branches, which had offered only minor complaint for the others, made low creaking sounds that put Berig on edge.
The branch snapped with a loud crack. Captain Davis screamed and grabbed onto the railings at the last moment, kicking his legs furiously. "I need some help here!"
He hung about three-quarters of the way across. The tree bridge had cracked, but hadn't fallen into the water.
"How can we get to him?" Talia asked, losing her usual calm.
"I don't know," Aric said. "We have to think."
Ander glared at him. "There's no time to think."
Before he knew what he was doing, Berig stepped forward. "I-I'll do it. I'm a good climber. I can get out there and help him up. I'm stronger than I look."
The others shared doubtful glances before Ander said, "Give it a try."
Berig raced to the end of the tree bridge and climbed over the thinner railing branches. Now he stood on the large outside branch, mere inches from falling, but he'd always been a natural climber. With catlike speed and agility, he reached Captain Davis, who clung to the sagging branches, nothing between him and the black water.
Berig held out a hand. "I'll help you up."
With the branches dangerously close to snapping, Captain Davis reached up, and Berig took his hand. At first, Berig thought his grip would slip, but he held on tight. Heart pounding, he pulled. Captain Davis found footholds where he could. More branches broke off, but Berig pulled the captain up.
Now they stood close to the edge of the bridge, on a branch that could snap at any moment. "Can you make it on your own?" Berig asked.
The captain nearly lost his balance. "No, I think I could use some help."
With the captain holding onto him for support, Berig inched along the bridge. The branch creaked with every step. Below, the black lake looked smooth and dangerous.
"You're almost there," Danica called out. "You can do it."
Just as they stepped off the branch, it snapped, and large chunks of wood fell into the lake. Berig lay there a few moments, the world swirling around him. He couldn't believe he'd done this. In all his life, he'd never seen himself as a hero, but this had been heroic.
"Good," Ander said. "Let's get going now."
How could Ander remain so calm, so focused on the task? It came across an insensitive, but Berig didn't think Ander meant it that way.
Berig followed the others down the outcropping, catching his breath. He exhaled with relief when they reached flat, soupy ground.
Captain Davis put a hand on Berig's shoulder. "Thank you."
"No problem."
Even now, the captain sounded depressed and weary.
"You sure you're okay?" Berig asked.
Captain Davis looked away. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me."
Berig supposed the captain would reveal what was bothering him when he decided it was time. After all, Berig didn't like sharing his own issues. Too depressing.
They continued through the mist, passing more skeletal trees as distant growls sounded. Hopefully the people with weapons would protect him. Berig's dagger felt inadequate.
As the hours passed, they encountered more small pools of black water, which Berig gave a wide berth. His feet ached, but he didn't voice his concerns. These people had accepted him despite his flaws. He couldn't slow them down.
When they stopped to rest and eat, Berig felt relieved. They'd found a few more snakes, which were cooking over a fire.
Berig sat with Graig, Talia, and Danica. Though Berig liked Ander and Aric, he'd never felt he deserved to join in any discussion with them. As usual, Farah remained separate from the group, while Captain Davis stood a silent watch.
Berig was surprised they hadn't seen any monsters. Maybe Warrick did exaggerate the dangers of the swamp.
"How're you holding up, Berig?" Graig asked.
"I'm used to the rough life, I guess. Yeah, my feet hurt, but it ain't the first time I've been uncomfortable." He lowered his voice. "So what's going on with Captain Davis?"
Graig looked across the campsite, toward the captain. "Honestly, I'm not sure. We all lost people in Crayden, but he's taking it harder."
"We need to leave him his space," Talia said. "He'll tell us when it's time."
Berig felt the need to change the subject. "Graig, what did you do in the Order? I've never talked much with anyone in it. I'd like to have some idea what I'm getting into, you know."
"No problem. I'll tell you a bit. For the most part, we protect the people of the Empire. Some among our number favor outright rebellion, but unless Nadia can carry out her quest, there's no point trying. As far as we know, Warrick's all-powerful.
"One thing we can do is provide a market for goods the government doesn't like. Mostly books and newspapers that speak out against Warrick. Or magical staffs. We can't overthrow the government, but we can create problems for them. They'll avoid conflict if they believe there's a reasonable lik
elihood of suffering casualties on their end. We also provide charity for those Warrick ignores. Talia and I were very involved in this aspect of the Order around Crayden."
Berig felt a stab of anger. "No one ever did that around Bradenton."
"That's because it's a risky job," Graig said. "Imperial Guards go around making sure no one tries to help the poor. After all, the poor are that way because they've chosen not to support Warrick and his foolish ideas."
"Yeah, I know," Berig said. He and his brother had taken that stand. How could Berig live with himself if he declared support for the man who'd murdered his parents? Yes, he hadn't thought much about vengeance, but outright support was too much.
Graig frowned thoughtfully. "You made a good decision, Berig, by not supporting Warrick. You might not believe in God—Warrick's done quite a job eliminating God from our lives—but I don't think God would look kindly upon pledging your support to Warrick. Those who support him give over more than their support. They risk their very souls."
"Never thought of it that way," Berig said, distinctly uncomfortable. He didn't like thinking about God, about things so much bigger than him. "Is that really true? Honestly, I don't know much about God or anything like that."
"Well, you're talking to the right man. I often helped lead our meager expressions of worship." He stroked his short beard. "Where should I begin?"
"Wherever you think it'll all make sense," Berig said.
"Okay, you need to keep in mind that what I know isn't the whole story. Warrick's suppressed so much information that nothing we know is truly reliable." He took a breath. "Long ago, we lived in another world. Somehow, this world was destroyed, and God chose to save some of the people by sending them here.
"In the Old World, there was no magic. Instead, we had advanced technology. Weapons that could destroy entire cities. Mechanical beings that could think for themselves. Strange carriages that could move really fast with no horses pulling them."
Berig chuckled. "You sure that wasn't magic? Sounds like it to me."
"Well, it wasn't magic. It was technology. It was also what destroyed the Old World." Graig stroked his beard again. "So God sent us to this new world and gave us magic instead. That way, we wouldn't destroy ourselves again, wouldn't see the need to build up the technology that destroyed the Old World. But magic didn't come without its problems.
"Magic resulted in the Great War. All around the world, those with magic fought for supremacy. Countless people were killed, and magic all but disappeared afterward. Some say God took it away. I'm inclined to believe that, but I can't be sure. There's only so much you can find out from secondhand information.
"But in this era of less magic, strong sorcerers like Warrick emerged. For some reason, Warrick's always viewed God as a threat, so he's sought to take God away from us. Early in his rule, he forcefully put down any hints of religion. The knowledge of God almost died out, but a few brave people carried it on through the Order, passing it down from generation to generation. We've forgotten a lot, but we know this much. If you support Warrick, you're opposing God."
Berig tried to take all this in. What could God do? What did He want? To Berig, God seemed more a symbol than anything, something people looked to in their time of need.
But did God actually exist?
"How do you know all this?" Berig asked. "I've never heard any of it before."
"The Order has spies in Imperia," Graig said. "Even in Warrick's palace. Warrick himself reveals some of his thoughts to trusted advisors. People get other information from the vast Imperial Library. There's knowledge out there, but only if you support Warrick, or claim to."
Berig looked down at the ground. "I still don't see why more people don't claim to support Warrick. I mean, they don't really believe in God."
"Well, those who pledge their support to Warrick are tested. In most cases, Warrick can use his magic to see through deceit. You're taking on a great risk by claiming to support him if you truly oppose him. Some can resist his powers, and they make the best spies. That's where I believe there's still a little magic out there. Those who have some magical capabilities are better at resisting Warrick. Most people aren't strong enough."
"I guess I'd never thought about any of this," Berig said. "There was never any question about supporting Warrick. It just felt completely wrong. Most of the people I knew never pledged their support."
"Most don't," Graig said. "They're afraid their reluctance will be caught. Why do you think so many of the nobles are not good people? People like Ander, like Nadia and her mother, are rarities? Of course, by all appearances, magic runs in both their families, so they can deceive Warrick."
Berig mulled over this information. For so long, he'd gone through life without thinking about anything. When he hadn't known if he'd eat come dinnertime, thinking about Warrick's government was the last thing on his mind.
"What does God actually do?" Berig asked. "I mean, why doesn't He stop Warrick?"
Graig let out a long sigh. "That I can't answer. I know that God wants us to be good people, to forgive others who have wronged us, but I don't know what He does."
"Well, I can't believe in a God who lets such bad things happen," Berig said.
"I understand."
As they'd sat there, Berig had felt increasing pressure in his bladder. He excused himself and walked off to relieve himself in some stunted bushes. While he stood there, something stirred deep within the mists, moving closer.
Out of the mist, a beast appeared. A giant cat.
Berig leapt to the side. The swamp cat, a sleek creature probably eight feet in length, tried to pounce on him and missed. With a rabid hiss, it turned and pounced again. Berig rolled out of the way.
"Help!" he shouted as the cat pounced upon him and clawed at his chest. Searing pain lanced through Berig, and he tried in vain to pull free, holding the cat's jaws at bay.
He heard shouts and hurried activity, but the sounds only registered dimly. The beast's foul breath made him gag. It continued tearing at him, shredding his clothing, drawing blood. Its weight pinned him to the ground, making it difficult to breathe.
Then the cat was knocked to the side. In a blurry haze of pain, Berig looked up to see Aric, Talia, and Captain Davis battling the beast. It turned its attention to them, and Berig crawled through some tall grasses, blood staining his ragged clothing.
He got to his feet and watched the battle on unsteady legs, holding his dagger and feeling foolish. A sudden wave of weakness hit him, and his legs collapsed. Maybe his injuries were more severe than he'd thought at first. Woozy, he glanced down at his chest. Much of the skin had peeled away, and some of his muscles showed through.
He turned his head to the side, watching his defenders perform an intricate dance with the swamp cat. They slashed at it again and again, but it kept dodging their attacks. At last, Talia managed to plunge her sword through its side, right near where its heart should be. The beast let out a hideous growl, then fell over on its side, moaning in pain.
Numb with shock, Berig could barely feel his injuries. The world had grown cold, and his body shook. This was how it must feel to die. Strangely, he wasn't afraid.
Chapter 35
Nadia, Markus, and Rik were sitting around the campfire on a muggy night, thoroughly exhausted. They'd ventured a little bit into the forest south of the road, then found a clearing.
Shortly after they'd treated Rik, he'd woken. Though weak, he'd summoned the energy to travel at a slow pace, with Markus and Nadia lending him support. Blood had soaked Rik's bandages, and they had nothing else to apply to his stitched wounds.
Markus had grown silent, staring off into space. Nadia knew the thoughts going through his head. He'd killed two men, and it didn't matter what justifications you applied after the fact. Killing someone, even in self-defense, changed you.
Nadia and Markus were eating some rabbits Markus had caught. Rik refused to eat at all. The mere thought of food made him feel ill.
Markus looked up from his food. "I wonder what drives people to become bandits. I mean, at some point, they had to be people like anyone else, people with families and friends. I can't help but think that someone might miss them."
"Don't let it get to you," Nadia said, leaning back against a tree. "We had to kill them."
"I don't know. I feel like there had to be another way, something we missed."
"They chose to fight us. They're to blame for what happened, not us." She took a deep breath. "I went through the same thing after the Imperial Guard, but some people simply make bad choices. Yes, they might be forced into these choices, but that doesn't excuse them."
Resting against a nearby tree, Rik cleared his throat. "You worry too much, Markus. Those men were scum. I mean, look at what the leader did to me. He didn't need to stab me. He was already dying. He was just an evil man."
Markus looked at the ground, kicking at a twig. "But what makes someone into that?"
"Some people are just born that way," Nadia said. "Under Warrick's rule, many people live rough lives. They don't all resort to banditry."
"I still think it's Warrick's fault," Markus said. "People wouldn't be forced to do things like this if Warrick was doing his job. I can't believe Warrick pretends to care about the people. How can someone who murders an entire city make a claim like that?"
Nadia agreed, but they couldn't blame everything on Warrick. Even in this horrible society, people chose to be good or evil.
After a long silence, she turned to Rik. "How are you feeling?"
"Could be worse, I guess. I could be dead."
"We all could be," she said. Only Markus had proven competent in the battle. She scooted closer to him. "One of these days, you're going to train me how to fight."
"I will," he said, "but not today. I'm too exhausted, and we need practice swords."
She looked into his blue eyes, which reflected the dancing flames. He seemed a strong, steady force in her life. Someone she could depend on. He had a good heart. a strong idealistic streak, and a depth of feeling she hadn't expected.
And as much as he wanted to pretend he wasn't smart, he did have a good mind and knew a lot of useful things. Earlier that evening, he'd foraged in the forest for some herbs to alleviate Rik's suffering.
Empire of Chains (World in Chains Book 1) Page 28
