by Ronald Long
Holve nodded at him. Even in that small movement, Ealrin could see his obvious pain and hunger.
"I'm glad to see that losing your memory hasn't affected your common sense. It seems like you know what you're talking about. So I'll ask you another question, from where does the sea get its water?"
From the sky when it rain, Ealrin thought. Then some of it was always there, also. And from...
"A river," he said out loud. He looked to his right and his left, north and south on the beach respectively. He couldn't tell if a river was nearby or not. And if one was not nearby, could they indeed walk far enough to find one?
"Exactly," Holve said as he started back to the lean to. Ealrin followed him.
"There are two rivers that feed into the Forean Sea on the west coast of The Southern Republic. And unless I was out cold for a week and you swam us to the other side of Ruyn, we should be less than a day's journey to either a river or a port. Either way we can restock and resupply, but it's imperative that we continue north to Thoran."
Ealrin then became aware that he hadn't asked Holve the reason they were going there in the first place.
"Blast!" Holve said after Ealrin had asked him why they must get to Thoran. "My notes! My maps! I'd only just now remembered!"
He'd spent the better part of three days writing copious notes into his journal, which now undoubtedly lay at the bottom of the sea.
"Oh well," he said. "Nothing changing that now."
After they had gathered their weapons, folded the sail and arranged it so Ealrin could carry it on his back, the two began walking north. It was slow going due Holve. A goblin sword had injured his leg. Thankfully the cut was not deep and the blade was not poisoned. Ealrin had cut a piece of the sail off and wrapped the wound sufficiently to stop the bleeding. The salt water had gotten the wound infected slightly, but not so bad that it required immediate attention.
Perhaps they were fortunate after all.
It was indeed half a day's journey to the river. Ealrin was thankful for Holve's knowledge of the land. Without him, Ealrin may have decided to head inland in hopes of finding a lake or city without knowing where one might actually be. This river would help them immensely.
They drank from the flowing and fresh water freely, filling their empty bellies with much needed water. Ealrin was beginning to have headaches of his own that had nothing to do with being hit but because of dehydration. The cool water was refreshing and drove the pain away from his head as well as his badly chapped mouth.
While they drank, Holve was able to spear two fish. Being injured had not affected his skill with a spear. The only problem was that they had no fire on which to cook the food. Ealrin was concerned. He knew they could last for a time without food but they would need something on their stomachs soon if they were to keep marching on to a city. Empty bellies could only go so long plus they had nothing to carry additional water in.
Holve, perceiving Ealrin's concern simply said, "Gather some of the dryer wood from farther away from the river. Leave me your sword."
Holve had gathered some dry brush and cleared a space of grass and weeds until it was mostly bare earth.
Ealrin was staring at him, trying to figure out what he was doing.
"Get us some wood Ealrin, otherwise we'll eat this fishes while they are still wiggling!"
That was enough of a thought to turn Ealrin's stomach and cause him to search for wood. He handed Holve his weapon and walked up from the river to where the forest bed was no longer moist from the river. There seemed to be enough branches that had fallen from their trees to give him an armful of wood in no time at all.
He returned to where Ealrin was an, to his surprise, saw a small fire started in the brush Holve had collected. He dropped his wood next to where Holve was sitting by the small fire with the two fish on a rock, cleaned and ready to cooked over the fire.
"I"m glad to have you as a traveling companion," Ealrin told him as he sat down and put a fish on a smaller brach he had collected in order to cook it over the fire.
Holve just grunted and did the same with another fish.
"It's been awhile since I've traveled with anyone honestly," said Holve as he watched his fish begin to steam off its moisture. The smell of cooking fish was excEalrint to Ealrin's senses. He had been trying very hard not to think about how hungry he was.
"Roland had mentioned that," Ealrin said, saying the name of Roland with a pang in his voice. He only knew the man for a short time, and yet even now it felt odd to be without him here. Why did Holve travel alone so often? Ealrin coudln't bear the idea of dealing with the loss of so many and prospect of walking to the next city without being sure of where he was by himself.
"Perhaps it’s sufficed to say that several places I travel to are beyond what most would consider dangerous. It has generally been more wise to travel alone than to risk being uncovered by having a large traveling party."
Holve's voice was still normal, but buried within it, Ealrin sensed a grimness he had only heard once before: when he was mentioning the goblins. To where had Holve traveled that require he bring as little attention to himself as possible? He was about to ask when Holve began speaking again, cutting him off.
"You had asked why it was so important that we travel to Thoran? Well, to answer that simply I must tell you that I am in the service of King Thoran the IV. He is both a wise and good king. He treats his people as if they were his children. He cares deeply for them. What concerns him is a gang of thieves, robbers, and sell-swords who simply are known as the Mercs. It fits them well as they are primarily a group of hired warriors. The Southern Republic had employed their services for a time, in order to put down a rebellion in one of their own cities. Unknown to them, the Mercs were responsible for the rebellion itself. Only with the help of King Thoran were they able to rout the bandits and drive them into the Crecent Mountains. It seemed, at the time, that they were crushed beyond survival, so the pursuit of them was halted. That was ten years ago now. It seems, however, that not only have they survived but have grown in numbers that threaten the lives of many once again. This time they are moving up the eastern coast of the Southern Republic, or so my intelligence says, and are making their way to the Kingdom of Thoran. It would appear that they wish to settle a score with the King himself. I've been gathering as much information about them as possible from those who trust me and know of such matters. That was why I was at Good Harbor. It tends to be an excEalrint place to garner information about people who are wicked in nature. I've learned much about their leader and his purposes and intend to report my findings to the king as soon as possible. Unfortunately, I was hoping to sway many of the crew aboard the White Wind to join our cause. Caption Stormchaser had been gathering those individuals for that very purpose while I collected information. It seems that part of my mission has failed. I wonder why the goblins went undetected and attacked us so viciously? I assume they mean to raid the Southern Republic, but the ports along the inland are much more guarded than Good Harbor. I suppose time will tell. Now let me eat my fish as I see you've all but finished yours!"
The fish in Ealrin's stomach was quite satisfying. On top of the water he had consumed, he almost felt full. He sat and watched Holve eat and thought about what he had said.
Mercenary raiders. Goblin ships. Countries dealing with rebellions. A king to whom Holve was in service. And a boat full of warriors meant to repel a threat now dead. It all seemed like a story that meant the continent of Ruyn was a dangerous place for anyone. What part would Ealrin play in it all? He was unsure of any affiliation of his to any country. What would become of him after he arrived in Thoran with Holve? Would he find himself useful to the king as Holve had intended the crew of the White Wind to be?
It seemed that of his intended recruits for King Thoran, the only one he had managed to bring safely this far was unintentional.
What were the fates doing with Ealrin, he wandered.
***
After Holve had eaten, they again disc
ussed their options.
"If this is the river I believe it is," Holve said, "then there's a city a days walk upstream. But that'll take us further east instead of north. It'll be a little out of our way, but we can restock and resupply there."
"We haven't any money or goods to trade," Ealrin pointed out.
Holve chuckled and replied, "You'll soon learn that I know a great many people who owe me favors or are generally good willed in my direction. In Weyfield, I have both."
And with that, the pair began to follow the river away from the coast and towards the east.
Keeping near the water had plenty of advantages for the traveling pair. It meant that whenever they became thirsty they were able to drink, and the river's water had proven a valuable asset to a great many trees as well. They found a berry bush that sustained them for the better part of the afternoon as they continued to walk. Hoover speared a few more fish that they intended to cook once it became too dark to travel safely.
When night fell and the two could no longer see well, they set up the sail by hanging it on some tree branches and then over to another. It wasn't as sturdy as a lean to, but it would shelter them through the night. It also served a dual role in blocking the fire from any suspicious eyes.
"I learned a long time ago that fires at night on the road attract trouble. You're best to avoid being seen by them if you can," Holve told Ealrin as he cooked his second fish of the day. "And for your future information, Weyfield is certainly up this river. Just a half days walk more I think. The river that runs past it is surrounded by forest a this is. The river down south is more a grassy plains area. We aren't as far off of our course to Thoran as we could have been."
Ealrin was glad for that news. His back was beginning to protest his sleeping on the ground. But for now, he was glad to have a belly full of fish, berries, and water. Perhaps Holve is owed a favor by the owner of a nice inn located in Weyfield?
With a full stomach and thirst quenched, Ealrin was able to think about the crew of the White Wind without a bitter sorrow this night. Even Roland's death was easier to handle on a full stomach.
Still.
He wished more of the crew had survived. He knew for sure the dwarves had not. Their bodies were strewn about the deck. They wanted to go down fighting also. Ealrin knew he had seen at least one of the elves dead as well, the other was sure to have fallen to the goblins as well. And now that he thought about it, he wasn't certain if the fate of Urt or Captain Stormchaser either. He tried to push the thoughts of his fellow shipmates fallen bodies from his mind.
Still, that night his dreams were painful, but something else also stirred with him. A desire to fight back.
***
In the morning, after they had folded up the sale and cleared away the remains of their fire to make it look like they had never been there, the two again headed east in order to make it to the city of Weyfield. The river was there guide, as Holve had told him that often ships would travel up the deep river in order to drop off small loads of cargo to the city.
Ealrin was again thankful for the river. Even though the spring morning was chilly, he knew that when the noon suns came he would be thirsty again. Holve's leg needed some real medical attention, however. They had been able to wash it in the freshwater of the river but the redness around the cut was increasing. At this time it was not a threat, but if they went much longer without at least some medicinal herbs to put on it Holve might be in real trouble. Ealrin hoped the friends Holve spoke in Weyfield were gifted healers.
After several hours of walking the pair finally cleared the forest and were able to see the planes on which Wayfield was built. Ealrin could indeed see the evidence of civilization. Roads of dirt and stone both came out from the city and went south as well as north. There were docs built along the river with houses next to them, possibly the dwelling places of fishermen and Farmers. However the thing that drew their attention the most was the black smoke rising from the area of buildings that Ealrin assumed had once been Weyfield.
Now it seemed to be nothing more than charred wood and black dust.
"Raiders," Holve said, quickening his pace. "Mercs. I'd wager anything against it."
At that moment, they saw what looked like six or seven men coming out one of the houses. They threw their heads back in laughter as they carried out small chests and other possessions. Even from here, Ealrin could see the blades of their swords were covered in blood.
Holve swore and broke into a run. Ealrin ran with him, matching him step for step. He unsheathed his sword and prepared himself for the battle ahead. As they were running, Mercs saw them and rushed to engage the two fighters, who seemed to be outnumbered three to one.
Even while they were more than a stones throw away Holve loosed his spear and caught a raider square in the chest. Though the distance spearhead traveled was great, the force of it knocked him backwards off his feet. Holve's rage was uncontainable. Weaponless, he threw himself into the first man he met, kicking him hard in the chest with both feet. Without so much as slowing down, Holve ran to the man his spear had become lodged in, set it free, and turned to face the five remaining men.
Ealrin reached the first and, instead of launching headfirst into combat he questioned the men who were now approaching him: three of the five.
“Who are you? What are you doing here?” he shouted as they continued their approach, weapons up and ready to strike.
The man who was in the middle of the group wore a smirk on his blackened and bloody face that told Ealrin this would be no time for questions: only battle.
The first sword came from above and Ealrin deftly blocked it, throwing a kick at its bearer to knock him aside. The second blade came from his left. He quickly jumped back, just barely being nicked by the blade across his left shoulder. In retaliation, his own weapon quickly swung around with him and ended the life of the man who had just wounded him.
Ealrin didn’t know these people. He had no reason to fight them except that they were only interested in ending his life. And for what? Ealrin had no desire to kill those who were innocent, but he also wanted to ensure that these men were. But how? There was no time to even think. The man who was in the middle had lost his smirk. Instead his face was filling with his own anger, rivaling that of Holve’s, who was currently dispatching the second of his assailants.
Ealrin and the man exchanged several blows. This man was no common pillager, he was skilled warrior. The man who had struck out at Ealrin first was regaining his footing and making to join the fighting again, when Holve’s spear caught him in the side. He let out a howl of pain and then fell to the ground.
After blocking yet another blow from the man, Ealrin charged him like the dwarves had shown him: headfirst and hard. The two fell to the ground, with Ealrin on top. He felt a jab of pain as he was punched in the ribs. He quickly rolled off of the man and stood to his feet, ready to fight again. The man on the ground did not stand. Holve’s spear was pointed directly at his throat.
“What is the meaning of this?” Holve asked through bared teeth. “This city had done you no wrong. Why have you burned it to ashes?”
The man’s anger ebbed through his voice as he spoke for the first time:
“This city harbored the unclean. We have cleansed it of its filth!”
He attempted to knock aside Holve’s spear with his arm. In return, Holve spun his spear around quickly and ensured that the man would never again rise off the ground where he lay.
Ealrin, now closer to the city, looked around and saw only devastation.
People lay slain in the streets: either by the sword or by fire. It was horrible to see. And yet, down what appeared to be the main road another group of three men walked. The stopped abruptly at something one of them saw and then began to run. For some reason, Ealrin began to run to. Holve followed him closely.
The men overturned an abandoned horse cart. He then pulled out two small children, no older than twelve Ealrin thought. Laughing he threw the
girl to one of his companions, who threw her up over his shoulder while she bit, scratched, screamed and fought him. The boy he grabbed by his shirt and lifted him into the air. After receiving a kick of two from the midair youth, he drew his blade and ran the boy through his middle, then threw him to the ground. turning to the other two, he gestured to the girl and they all began walking.
Ealrin was sprinting now, running at the men who had now seen him. Well, perhaps they had heard him. Ealrin hadn’t said these particular sets of words in quite a while, and even now they seemed to fall flat.
What was the purpose of this senseless violence?
“You foul barbarians! Surrender the girl immediately! Drop your weapons!” he shouted at them. His first coherent string of words sense witnessing the murder of the boy.
Two drew their swords and approached him as the third, who was carrying the girl ran off in the opposite direction. The young girl was screaming for the boy who lay wounded on the ground,
Before he even realized how he had done it, the two men lay dead at his feet. His sword had been quicker than even his thoughts. Ealrin had to save the girl. He didn't know why. He surely had never met her before. As he sprinted in her direction he felt deeply in his bones that his life depended on her
Holve had run ahead of him and had now caught up with the man, slowed as he was with his extra burden. He threw the girl aside and scrambled for his weapon in its sheath. Before he could even retrieve it he lay dead, another raider killed by the quickness and precision of Holve's spear. The girl scampered away from Holve and back to where the with whom she had been hiding lay.
Ealrin was at his side. He's breathing was ragged and he was coughing up blood. There were only moment of his life left. The girl was now beside them. Ealrin stood to give them room and to survey the surrounding area. Were there others they would soon encounter lurking in the next building?
"Dece! Dece! Don't die Dece! Stay with me! Who will keep me safe if you die!? Dece! Dece!"
The girl broke down into sobs over the boy named Dece. Holve walked up slowly to them.
