by Ty Johnston
“I’ll think about it,” Guthrie said. And he would. Knighthood was not something he had ever considered, but it would be a life of sorts. He had a growing animosity toward those with magical abilities, but there were his own powers to consider. What kind of life could he have knowing he might be found out and executed at any time?
“That’s if we get out of here,” Kroff added, shifting a little to remove an arm from behind Zanbra’s head. Looking worn and nearly dead, the woman slumped back against the wall.
Nearly finished with the bird, Guthrie glanced out of the cave and found the snow was coming down in heavy sheets. The path across the cave’s entrance was already covered.
“After we eat, I’ll gather some snow for drinking,” he said.
“Good lad,” Kroff said.
“Unfortunately,” Guthrie went on, “we’ll have to use our hands. Sorry.”
“No, we won’t.”
Guthrie glanced back. Kroff was holding up a small wooden cup.
“Where did you get that?” the sergeant asked.
Kroff grinned again. “Managed to pick it up when I grabbed that piece of tenting for our shoes. It was underneath, and I thought it might come in handy.”
“Thank Ashal.”
The Spear chuckled again. “Or the Kobalans.”
Figuring their bird was cooked through and through, Guthrie pulled their meal back and handed it to Kroff. The knight did not argue, but took the animal and attacked it with a viscous bite. Guthrie smiled watching his comrade eating away, not fearing there would not be enough for all of them since the bird was of fair size.
But Kroff’s last words had brought something to mind. “Speaking of the Kobalans, I was out for most of it, but I picked up a few things when Verkain was interrogating me. Still, I don’t know what they were doing here, or what happened to us after leaving Ildra.”
Kroff chewed and swallowed. “He wouldn’t tell us anything, but his officers talked in front of us quite freely, not realizing Zanbra and I speak Kobalan fluently, as do all of the Gauntlet.”
“So what was going on? Why is Verkain involved in all this?”
“He’s not,” Kroff said, “at least not directly. He wasn’t behind the Dartague war, if that’s what you mean. The war was all Ildra’s doing, and he was against it.”
“I’d hate to see how he would have treated us if we had been at war.”
Kroff chuckled again. “Oh, he was going to kill us off, you and me and Zanbra, no doubt, then hide the bodies away in a deep pit somewhere. Even if our bodies had been found, it would have looked like the Dartague had done us in.”
“Why did he want us dead?”
“We were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Kroff said. “When he discovered us at that pagan temple, he feared the Ursians suspected him of involvement with Ildra and the Dartague, when it was really just the opposite in many ways. He was planning to torture us to find out what we knew, then do away with us to get rid of any evidence. Sneaky bastard, and devious.”
Guthrie shook his head. “So ... I’m not following you. Are you saying the Kobalans and the Dartague are enemies?”
“Not at all,” Kroff said before taking another bite, chewing and swallowing. “Verkain didn’t want this war, not now, but was thinking of a push against Ursia down the road, perhaps in a few decades, maybe a century. Either way, it would be long after you and I are around. Who knows if he would have ever done it. But to those ends, he had trained Ildra. She just jumped ahead of him, apparently too impatient to wait until she was an old woman for her countrymen to get a little revenge on us Ursians. I think that’s why Verkain killed her, because she had ruined his plans. Especially with us escaping, if we should live, Ursia will know to keep a watch on him now.”
“But he turned over the baby to some Dartague?”
“Oh, yes,” Kroff said. “Apparently the bastard isn’t as bloodthirsty as everyone thinks. When he and his boys left the temple behind, they ran into Ildra’s escorts, likely those from the camp you and Werner visited. Verkain handed over the child to some chieftain, then informed the fellow that his wyrd woman was dead. I guess either Verkain lied about how Ildra died or the Dartague weren’t stupid enough to take on someone rumored to be one of the most powerful wizards living. Either way, the Dartague rode off with the babe, and the Kobalans set up camp, planning to interrogate the three of us before slinking back to Kobalos. I guess Verkain felt safe here in the mountains, thinking none of our scouts would find them.”
“He was probably right,” Guthrie said, “but I still don’t understand everything that happened. What about at the temple? I mean, that temple wasn’t there when Werner and I rode though a couple of weeks back.”
“Oh, that’s simple enough,” Kroff said, leaning forward to keep the bird warm in the flames of their fire. “Ildra used some kind of powerful spell to transport herself to the temple, which is quite a bit further north of our current position, or at least that’s my guess. Unfortunately for her, Verkain managed to follow, and we got caught up in her spell, or maybe his, the one allowing him to go after her. Either way, it was all bad luck on her part. She was going to the temple to have her babe born on what the Dartague consider to be holy ground. I guess the birthing was the only part that worked out for her.”
It was enough to make Guthrie sad. Ildra had been the enemy, someone who had toyed with his life and led warriors to slaughter his fellow countrymen. He should have hated her, had hated her, but now he was finding sympathy for the deceased wyrd woman.
“There’s still something I don’t understand,” he added. “Why was Verkain there at the temple in the first place? Just to kill Ildra?”
Kroff stared off to one side for a moment, deep in thought, then, “I don’t think so, but I don’t know the details. Verkain’s men didn’t talk about everything while around us, but we picked up a few clues here and there.”
“Well?”
“From what we heard Verkain saying in the temple, and from other things I overheard at the camp, it seemed he was looking for something, had been looking for something for some time. A place, maybe an old temple, someplace where a certain someone is buried, though I have no idea who.”
“And he thought this temple might be the place?”
“Maybe. I got the impression Ildra had brought it to his attention, at least as a possibility. Obviously it was not the right place. Maybe that’s another reason he killed her.”
They were getting into grayer territory now. Guthrie could have come up with a hundred more questions, but he saw little reason to do so since the answers were not likely to be accurate. Still, “What happens now?”
“What do you mean?” Kroff asked.
“I figure we’re going back after Verkain once we regain our strength and supplies,” Guthrie said, “but I’m not sure what Verkain will be up to. Will he take over where Ildra left off?”
Kroff shook his head. “Sorry, Hackett, but you’re off on all accounts.”
“How so?”
“First off, we’re not going after Verkain,” the older man said. “Besides the fact it would likely be a suicide mission, Zanbra and I have no orders to do so. As a Sword she might have the authority to arrest or slay any suspected wizards, but that doesn’t mean she can go around hunting down kings of sovereign nations. Not even the High Sword has that kind of authority on his own.”
“Meaning the pope?” Guthrie asked.
Kroff nodded. “Yes. Something like that, we would have to get approval from the very top.”
“So we’re just going to let him kill us?”
“I don’t think Verkain is going to kill us,” Kroff said. “Oh, he would likely do so if we were right in front of him, but I think we are likely beneath his notice now that we are no longer underfoot.”
“But ... he was going to kill us before,” Guthrie said.
“True enough, but he had us then. Not now. It’s no longer convenient to kill us. I don’t know what was going
on with that magic whirlwind back at his camp, but it probably caused a enough mess that he will leave us alone. Hell, maybe he was the one who created the storm. He might even think we’re dead, for all I know. Maybe the storm was supposed to kill us.” Here Kroff squinted. “Otherwise, if we were still under his interest, I think we’d already be dead.”
The Spear had a point. Verkain could have killed them at any time if he had wanted.
The older man continued, “As for Verkain taking over the Dartague, I don’t think so. They’re probably not big fans of the Kobalan king at the moment, not after he killed their wyrd woman. But they’re not going to go to war against him, either. The Dartague aren’t stupid. They’re not going to attack Kobalos, especially when they’ve already got another war on their hands.”
“So what is Verkain going to do?”
“I don’t know, for sure,” Kroff said with a shrug. “My best guest? He’ll likely ride on back home with his boys, and that’ll be that.”
“That’s it?” Guthrie asked. “It seems so ...”
“Futile?” Kroff asked with a humorous glint in his eye.
“Something like that,” Guthrie said.
“You’ve got to keep in mind,” Kroff went on, “Verkain has nothing to gain here. He might have been thinking of facing off with Ursia, but not now and not for a long while. Ildra spoiled any surprise he might have had, so he’ll lay low for years. If he’s truly immortal like the rumors say, then he’s got all the time in the world to wait. We humans, we have short attention spans and short memories. Give Verkain a century and we’ll be caught completely off guard.”
“I still don’t see why he wouldn’t kill us,” Guthrie said. “When you pass along what you know to the Order, we are likely to be in another war, this time with Kobalos.”
“Not a chance,” Kroff said, leaning back against the cave wall, “and Verkain knows it. The northern army has just been wiped out, which means we are weak. No, the pope won’t want a war with Kobalos, not right now.”
“Then what will happen when you and Zanbra report in Mas Ober?”
Kroff shrugged. “Probably not much. Oh, we’ll make sure to keep our eyes on Kobalos, maybe even send a few spies in that direction, but beyond that, we of the Order will keep doing what we always do, hunting down mages within our borders.”
“And in Dartague,” the sergeant added.
“I don’t think so,” Kroff said. “For all intents and purposes, this war is over. Verkain did us all a big favor when he killed Ildra. Without her, these barbarians will fall apart.”
The older man had a good point, Guthrie had to admit. After being stationed along the northern border for a decade, until Ildra came along he had never witnessed much cohesion among the Dartague, no alliances between the hundreds of clans.
Seeing Kroff had allowed their meal to sway from the flames, Guthrie pointed. “Your bird is getting cold.”
The Spear sighed, allowing the cooked animal on a stick to droop into the fire. “I’ll warm it up again for you and Zanbra.”
Guthrie leaned forward, taking the wooden cup from the Spear’s side. “I’ll go get us some water.”
“Fair enough,” Kroff said as he watched the sergeant move out onto the trail. Soon Guthrie was a dozen or so yards away, kneeling over to scoop snow into the drinking vessel.
Feeling a stirring at his side, the Spear glanced over to find Zanbra’s eyes open and staring at him.
“Did Sergeant Hackett make the fire?” she asked, her voice rough from the cold.
Kroff nodded. “He did, indeed, and helped me cook up this fine foul.” He held up the bird on a stick. “He’s a good man, that Guthrie.”
Zanbra sat up straighter and stared out into the snow where Guthrie was turning around to tromp back to them.
“That might be true,” she said, “which makes it all the worse that we have to kill him.”
Chapter 5
Because of their general weakness, the group decided to remain in the cave for the night. Guthrie rounded up as much kindling as he could find, even pulling some dead roots from the walls of the trail, and built as large a fire as he could. In the end they had a nice roaring blaze, one that kept the cave quite toasty and even heated up the stone flooring somewhat.
Still, it was a long night. They slept without bothering to set watches. Guthrie slept the most uneasy, wary of Zanbra but also noticing a general quiet from Kroff. Had she told the Spear something? And what could she tell? Guthrie really had no idea what she had seen nor what she suspected. If she thought him a wizard, would she attack at some point? Would she confer with her lesser officer first? In all the possible scenarios that played out within his mind, Guthrie never imagined the woman would simply let things be, allow Guthrie to go on about his way once they parted from one another. Zanbra might be waiting for safety among their fellow Ursians, or she might be waiting until her strength returned, but Guthrie had few doubts she would attempt to kill him at some point, possibly arrest him. Did his service to his country count for nothing? When it came to magic, he supposed he was on his own. He could not blame those of the Order. He had no love for wizards and their ilk.
By morning the fire had sifted down to little more than heated coals, but that was still enough to provide some warmth. The snow had finally let up during the night, but it had left a couple of inches of white powder layered upon the ground.
At least the three were feeling somewhat rested. The flat stone floor of the cave had not been comfortable, but the warmth of the fire had allowed their muscles to loosen. There was still the problem of hunger, having finished their bird the night before, but there was always hope they could catch another animal for a meal. Perhaps they would even find some berries or nuts once they reached the northern woods Guthrie had told was ahead of them.
Setting out, they were quiet. Whether this was due to their general tiredness or to anxiety between them, Guthrie could not say. As before, he took the lead, though this day he was more watchful of his back, keeping a little more distance than before between himself and the others.
As the morning sun began to climb higher into the sky, more and more warmth reached down into the crevices of the winding pathway, melting off much of the snow but leaving the stone ground damp. It did not take long before Zanbra and Kroff suffered from soaked feet, and fears began to rise that the two might freeze when the temperature dropped once more.
Yet there was nothing to do about such worries. They only had two options, either wait in the cave and hope to find some way to survive, or to set out on foot. Walking seemed the more logical of solutions. Rescue was not likely, the Ursian commanders and troops having no knowledge of their exact location, though Captain Werner and Duke Heggel and a handful of others had known the general region into which the knights and the sergeant had ridden.
Fortune smiled upon the three that day, however. As they rounded a bend into a wider valley beyond which could be seen the tops of trees, the scent of cooking came to them.
“That’s beef,” Guthrie said, coming to a halt and sniffing at the air.
His companions stopped some little ways behind him, sensing his wariness of them.
“Are you sure?” Kroff asked. “I smell smoke, but I’m not so sure it’s someone cooking.”
Guthrie scanned the tops of the mountains and hills around them. To the south near the woods he thought he could spy gentle risings of smoke, but it was difficult to tell because of the distance. Was there someone ahead there cooking? Or had the Dartague burned another peasant’s home? The second seemed not likely, for Guthrie knew these lands somewhat and the only building he remembered in the vicinity was the cabin belonging to the poor woodsman he and Werner had buried.
The sergeant sniffed again. “Smells like cooking to me.”
“Let’s get on with it,” Zanbra said, her voice gruff. “Whatever it is, it’s fire. If it’s the Dartague, at least we’ll die warm.”
There was little arguing with the woman, and
Guthrie couldn’t disagree with her reasoning, so he hunched his shoulders and trekked on once more.
It took them some little while to make their way through the valley, the two knights’ soggy feet sinking into mud and worsening their situation, but all the while their mouths were watering. The scent had grown stronger as they neared the valley exit to the forest, and now all were convinced there was a potential meal awaiting them ahead, at least if the cook was a friendly.
At the edge of the treeline, where the stone floor of the trail gave way to gravel and eventually grass and dead leaves, the smell of food grew all that much stronger, bringing a few groans from the three. It was also at that point that Guthrie could make out the general direction of a black tail of smoke above the trees; he guessed the location of the fire was where he and Captain Werner had found a clearing in the woods.
The three began to shuffle forward at a more brisk pace, the aches and pains that had eaten away at them the last few days forgotten for the rumbling of their bellies. They pushed their way into the forest, knocking aside the smaller plants and treading over brush and even thorns without any mind to the new scratches they received. They hungered, and food was upon the air.
When they came to the clearing, the sight before them brought them up short, but only for a moment. It was a camp fire surrounded by small stones. Three men in chain armor and tabards of the Ursian army sat on short logs they must have pulled from the woods, a fourth man standing to one side with a spear. Those seated were paying little attention to their surroundings, but the fourth spotted the sergeant and the knights right away.
“Halt!” The spear came down, its head aimed at the trio a dozen yards away.
Guthrie and the others stood their ground, each of them grinning through the dirt and cracked skin that covered their features.
“Thank Ashal,” Kroff muttered.
Chapter 6
It turned out the four soldiers were a scouting party, sent out on foot ahead of the main army to keep an eye on the valley where Guthrie and his comrades had exited. It seemed Captain Werner had foreseen the possibility of the knights and the sergeant making use of the trail as he and Guthrie had done not so long ago, and Werner had ordered out the scouts as one of his first actions as a captain within the official army. Yes, Werner was now within the folds of the Ursian military; the initial Dartague attack had taken out too many good officers for Duke Heggel not to make use of one of the best and most experienced men at his disposal.
