“The train!” swore Thrax under his breath.
He stormed away into one of the rooms whilst Bara strained her eyes, trying to see what was happening. Though they had a perfect few of the valley and track from their vantage point, the train was much too far away to see in any kind of detail. A grunt came from the room and Thrax appeared, carrying a long tube with a diameter of several inches.
“What is that?” she asked.
Thrax lifted it up to his right eye and looked carefully through it.
“It’s a telescope, it magnifies what you look at so you can see further away.”
As he adjusted the focus on the apparatus, he spotted the rusting metal machine as it made its slow way to the North along the iron tracks. A plume of smoke pumped from the top and he could see at least a dozen men stood at various points along its length. As he moved the telescope further to the right, he could see a dark line of objects across the tracks. At first, he had no idea what it was but then his imagination kicked in and he knew exactly what he had found.
“You idiots,” he muttered.
“What is it?” asked Bara.
“Our two friends are trying to slow the train so they can get on board.”
A great screech in sound echoed through the valley along with a chorus from the machine’s whistle. He watched carefully as the train slowed and halted before reaching the obstruction. Even before it stopped, a number of the men leapt off and spread out around the train, each one looking for trouble. Two of them moved to the front and cleared the debris before returning to the train. In less than a minute, the men were back on and the train started to build up speed. He scanned the entire length of the train and the trailers it pulled. A dark shape towards the rear caught his eye and as he concentrated, he could spot two figures climbing onto the tail end of one of the wagons.
“There they are,” said Thrax as he lowered the telescope.
“What are they doing?”
“Only the Gods know and even then…” he sighed.
Thrax stood still for a moment whilst starring out into the valley before turning to Bara.
“Get my sword, I am leaving in the next ten minutes!” he ordered.
Bara started to move and then turned back.
“What about me?”
Thrax considered his options for a moment. Bara was handy to have around but she wasn’t a fighter and the journey would be a difficult one. He needed her here and also needed his equipment and some of his most valuable weapons and texts taken care of.
“Listen Bara, three of my students will be here tomorrow morning. Wait here and tell them where I have gone. I want them to pack up my things and take them and you back to Haven. I will meet you there when this is all over.”
Bara tried to argue but she was cut short.
“I have to do this alone. You can help by packing everything from those two rooms ready to be taken away, the rest will have to stay here for now, I’ll come back for it when I am able,” he said whist walking towards his own room.
He removed an armoured jacket from the wall and pulled it on as Bara walked into the room carrying his sword. She walked up to him and held up the massive weapon, beckoning him to take it. Thrax reached out and held the weapon in both hands. As soon as he touched the metal, he knew he was doing the right thing and the blade just made him feel that much better.
“It is time I got away from here,” he said with a reassuring smile to Bara.
“I need a challenge,” he added as he swung the sword with three swift cuts that could have removed a person’s head with each movement.
CHAPTER SIX
The sun was up but the clouds were thick and the air had cooled dramatically. With the subtle weather change, it had shifted to give the impression of a damp, miserable winter’s day. Thrax had been on the move now for most of the morning and the route he had taken was far from easy. The path he continued along was more a goat trail but it did follow a quick winding route through the mountain range and to the valley floor below. The ground beneath his feet was damp and overgrown but luckily there was little mud to slip on, though in places it wasn’t always easy to work out where the trail ended and the undergrowth continued. The path through the mountains was sheltered in places from the elements by thick woodlands. At one point, he had passed two ruined houses, both old stone structures with little left of them other than low walls and their foundations. A large oak tree had pushed up right though the middle of one of them, the low walls looking more like barriers to protect the trees than the homes or farms that may have been in the past. They had been in this state since he could remember and they could have been that way for a hundred years.
Thrax wore the same travelling garb that he always had. Simple but sturdy jacket and trousers well covered with what, could only be described as a travelling coat. It was dark brown and hung low over his legs. The material was light but weatherproof and perfect for hiding the array of items he kept about his body. He carried a lot of gear, most of it strapped carefully to his framed backpack so that his front remained clear of obstructions. He had travelled the route on many occasions when heading to the North, but in the last few years had spent most of his time in his mountainside home or making the short journey to the busier trading posts and towns in the South. At some point in the past the track looked as though it was paved, but little of this now remained with many of the stones being washed away and undergrowth covering the path. From memory he knew this was one of the many trails that led down to the old road. He went from the narrow trail into an open area that was flat and moved off along the side of the mountainside. Few now knew this route but Thrax found out from some of the traders years ago that it was all that remained of an old mountain road system. Though it was broken and overgrown, it did offer a quicker route than through the craggy trail of the mountainside and it was far more direct. It wasn’t as fast as taking the steam belching metal machine on its tracks but it was the next best thing. He paused for a moment and sat at the side to check his map and take a few sips of water. His map fitted carefully inside a leather pouch and was handmade. He had put it together over the years and it contained details that only those who travelled the local roads and trails would ever know about.
As he studied the map, he caught sight of something on the road. As he looked more carefully he noticed that parts of the vegetation had been worn away, and recently too. Leaving his gear on the ground, he walked over and examined the area where the road could be seen clearly. Looking ahead the worn away vegetation followed a line into the distance.
“Interesting, tracks from rubber on wheels,” he said quietly to himself as he examined the markings.
Somebody had used it recently and not on foot, this was a wheeled vehicle, and based upon the amount it had cleared as it travelled, it must be substantial and heavy. Even more important was that one vehicle making a single trip could not realistically make this kind of damage. It must have been from a large number of them or had been made by repeated trips in the last few days. As interesting as this new discovery was though he had no time to waste. With the train already gone, and Synne and Jonas missing, he could only assume they had followed the train to whatever the Raiders had been working on that required such numbers of people. He could see no other reason why they would have sneaked off in the dead of the night.
He could have left them there, but Synne was the daughter of his old friend Galan and though there had been enmity between them in the end, he knew deep down that it was others who had created the rift. He intended on healing it and Synne was the vessel by which he would do it. With the map laid out in front of him, he traced the route above his home that led to the North. Based on the last trading runs he had made, there were at least three old trading posts situated between ten and fifty miles north. Last time he had travelled to the furthest one, it was deserted. Presumably overrun by Raiders, during one of their many murderous attacks. There were rumours even then that something was gathering in the Nor
th, well away from normal paths and deep inside the dangerous areas of the Wastelands. He wondered to himself if the closer outposts had suffered a similar fate or if they even existed anymore. With the train now being used, all manner of outcomes were possible and he had seen for months the train making its regular progress back and for along the track. The sun was directly above him, clearly indicating that half of the day had already gone. According to his map, he was only a quarter the way to the nearest outpost. He removed the lid from his flask and took two sips before replacing it.
“I need to quicken the pace,” he said to himself.
He stood back up and tightened his straps on his backpack. Attached to the side of the bag was the sword that Synne had been so enthralled by. On him, it still looked impressive, though not protected by a thin leather sheath that covered the entire blade up to the parrying hooks. On the back of the pack was a small metal crossbow. It was smaller than the usual weapons and parts of it folded down to make it easier to travel with, and held down by three buckles and heavy straps, to hold it on tightly. That wasn’t everything though, he also carried a large knife on his side, neatly pushed inside a hardened leather sheath. It was almost a foot long and was sharp along one edge and a few inches along the back of the clipped tip, the perfect utility and fighting knife. As always, in his right hand was the heavy looking staff that he had used to help fight off the band of Raiders when Synne and Jonas had arrived. With his gear ready, he turned north and continued along the long abandoned road and whatever mysteries awaited him.
* * *
Synne and Jonas had hidden themselves near the wheels of the last wagon that was being pulled behind the great machine. From where they were positioned the racket from the tracks and wheels was noisy, but they were well hidden from view and making quick progress along the tracks. The mountains were already moving away behind them and the rolling hills and fields of the Wastelands seemed surprisingly healthy. They had passed several small villages but nothing substantial yet, though there were people going about their business on both foot and horseback as they made their way along the dirt tracks of the land. It was already late in the day, the lighting was provided by torches burning outside most of the major buildings. Several of the riders carried lanterns that made them look like glowing creatures gliding over the land. Synne had started to relax, when she spotted the lights from a band of a dozen horsemen riding towards them. Pulling herself close to the body of the wagon she breathed a sigh of relief as they approached the tracks and waited for the train to pass before crossing them and continuing along a trail. As they moved away, Synne noticed the markings and banners they carried.
“Did you see that?” she asked.
Jonas had been watching all the time and looked just as surprised.
“Yeah, I did. Is it me or did they look like a party of riders from the Brotherhood?”
“Yeah, what are they doing in the Wastelands?” she asked rhetorically.
The group of riders continued off to the right, leaving a great trail of dust behind them, as they raced off at a speed that almost matched that of the train they were travelling on. Jonas leaned out slightly so he could look ahead. As he was watching, he felt an arm on his shoulder yank him back into cover.
“What are you doing?” asked an angry Synne.
“Hey, I’m trying to look ahead.”
“Well, did you see anything?”
Jonas sat back down whilst he considered whatever it had been ahead.
“I only got a short look but there is a lot of black smoke at the end of the line going up to the sky. Looks like a bridge ahead that leads into a town or city of some kind. It isn’t easy to tell from here though, there isn’t much light.”
The screech from the machine’s whistle blasted out, presumably sending a signal it was approaching its destination. Almost as soon as the whistled blasted, the guards on the train started to move about. As the nearest guard went further ahead on the train, they were given a chance to get a better look around. Taking the opportunity Synne crept from the darkness and out onto the right side of the wagon. Peering inside she could see tools and barrels of liquid, though without opening one she had no idea of the actual contents.
Jonas climbed over the low wooden sidewall and into the wagon to get a better look.
“Any idea what’s in them?” asked Synne.
He couldn’t see very well in the dark wagon so he placed his hands on the barrel and leaned in to smell if there was any liquid on the lid. As he inhaled, he stepped back, the smell obviously being overpowering.
“Well?”
“It smells like oil of some kind, much stronger than normal though,” he said as he moved back.
“Interesting, it must be a fuel of some type, perhaps a more refined version of oil, perhaps like the fuel I have read about that the old engines used to use,” said Synne quietly to herself.
The two moved along to the end of the container section where a number of crates were stacked up. Looking through the small gap in the forward facing wall, they could see the rest from the train.
“I don’t see any passengers here, this looks like a materials or cargo transport to me,” said Jonas.
Synne nodded in agreement.
“Whatever they are doing up here it is substantial. You don’t need wagons of people, tools and fuel unless you’ve got some kind of major industry, we need to find out what’s going on and get news back to the League,” she explained.
The train was already starting to slow down and the number of people started to increase as they moved over a bridge adorned with lanterns. A few dozen people walked about, all carrying torches of one kind or another to light the way. It was a busier place than a town like Haven in the daytime and this was the middle of the night. With a series of squeals, the train slowed even more until they were moving no more than a walking pace.
“What’s the plan Synne?”
“Plan, yeah, that would be a good idea. Look, if we stay on the train they’ll catch us. I suggest we get off now and scout this place. Agree?”
Jonas nodded and the two of them leapt from the side of the train without a moment’s hesitation. Synne hit the grass first, followed by Jonas. As they rolled along the ground, they came to a stop and moved to the nearest bit of cover, a small grove of trees. As they waited in the darkness, Synne turned to Jonas.
“How is the shoulder doing?”
“Sore, I wouldn’t want to use it in a fight. I’ll live,” he said though Synne looked less than convinced.
She had seen similar wounds in the past when Ulric and his fighters had returned from battle. These kinds of wounds could quickly move from a small hole to an infection that could spread and lead to all kinds of complications. She was tempted to send him back but she needed him too much to consider asking. She also doubted he would return when they had a chance, however small, to be able to help the survivors from Haven. Right now, they needed information and they needed it fast.
From their position in the tree line, they looked out at the now halted train and the settlement they had arrived at. The bridge functioned almost like a fortified entrance, as across the bridge was a large wooden gate that extended out into a low perimeter palisade, not dissimilar to the wall running around Haven. Luckily, they were inside the settlement, otherwise they would have to try and find a way inside the place. Looking through the inside revealed a bizarre place. Off to the distance was a low hill on top of which was a recently erected fortified hall that featured its own palisade and towers. Between the two sets of walls were workshops and storage buildings from which people hauled the materials from the train. Several dirt roads ran through the settlement and out to another two fortified gates, one leading north and the other to the east.
“Look, is that what I think it is?” asked Jonas as he pointed to a series of rough looking wooden buildings to the west.
Synne strained her eyes but she couldn’t really see whatever it was that Jonas had identified.
“What?”
“Look, there are carts on a small track going into that tunnel,” he said as he pointed.
“Ah, that explains it, a mine. What do you think they’re after?” she asked.
“Well, didn’t you say they were unloading a rock or something black at the trading post?”
“You’re right, it looked like coal. They must be operating a mine with forced labour and then shipping the raw materials back to the Trading Post to sell or trade for other items.”
“What are they doing with all this though?” asked Jonas.
“What about those buildings?” said Synne as she pointed to the buildings running in long columns around the fortress on the hill. “They look like military barracks to me.”
“Barracks, but they could hold hundreds of people,” said Jonas with a serious tone to his voice.
“Come on,” said Synne.
She slipped from out of the cover of the trees and followed the low stone wall that ran alongside one of the dirt roads leading to the fortified hall. They moved from building to building, always doing their utmost to stay in the shadows and away from the occasional guard that walked past. Off to the right, and away from the buildings, came a terrible smell and the sound of flies and other insects buzzing about. The two moved nearer to find the source of the smell but it was clearly coming from a large open space near the wall. As they moved closer they noticed a number of carts waiting to be hitched up to horses. On each wagon were numbers of cloths covering long shapes. Jonas moved to the nearest and pulled himself up onto the end of the cart. As it rocked a little an object swung out from under the cloths, it was a bruised arm. He jumped back and audibly gasped at the sight of the horror. Synne approached and examined the arm in more details.
“Dead, and for at least a few days. These must be the workers in the mine, don’t you think?” she asked.
Jonas turned away and with a gut wrenching groan, vomited onto the ground. He wiped his face and turned back.
“The bastards, do you think this is what they’ll do to our people?”
Champions of the Apocalypse Page 10
