Lheona was interrupted by a collective grunt resounding from the guards surrounding Hawke. She and I both looked over just in time to see the guards stumble back from Hawke as if shoved by an invisible force. My friend barreled his way through in a flash, running straight towards me.
“Get him, you fools. He's unarmed!” the Lady bellowed while she stepped forward herself to try and intercept him. As if it heard her words, Hawke's sword leapt from the ground and soared into its owner's outstretched hand. Lheona went rigid with incredulity, but Hawke seemed to be expecting this.
“Micasa, free yourself!” he cried out. It took me a couple seconds to get what he meant. With the shackles already partially loosened from my previous attempt, it took only a small shake of my hands to send my bonds clattering away.
Meanwhile, Hawke had bull charged Lheona head on with his sword bared. She cried out and threw her arms up for protection, keeping herself from seeing Hawke lower his weapon and ram into her shoulder first. Our captor was knocked prone, but Hawke continued his mad dash. I started running towards the door too, but Hawke scooped me up by the waist with his free arm before I had taken a dozen steps.
“Sorry, we gotta go fast,” he apologized in such an off-handed way I almost suspected he wasn't sorry at all. We were already flying down the corridor we had just been taking, the gate in front of us rapidly growing larger.
With a bestial grunt he shoved his foot into the doors, which flew open like they were made of particle board. A couple pained bellows rang out from behind them both, followed by a pair of similar sounding thumps. Hawke planted me on the ground and whirled around to slam the gate shut again.
“Micasa, a little help here,” he snapped with a pointed look at the door. Caught up in the heat of the moment, I took hold of the handles and locked it without really thinking.
“Good, good,” Hawke muttered to himself. He knelt to check on one of the two guards who had the misfortune of being behind the gates when he had burst through. The poor soul was still clearly dazed, so Hawke helped himself to the short-sword the guard wore at his hip.
“What are you doing?” the soldier muttered as Hawke undid the belt clasping the weapon to his body. Hawke's response was to punch him in the face.
“Do me a favor and stay down,” he asked the obviously unconscious guard. With that, he turned back to me and secured the sword belt across my shoulder.
“You said Blake taught you a bit about swordplay back at the bandit camp, right?” His words were breathless, and his frenzied attitude was making my heart race.
“Yeah, a little,” I said. I was startled as a loud pounding sounded from the gate I had just locked, followed by a steady flow of choice expletives.
“Okay then, listen close. We don't have much time.” Hawke leaned close and stared me straight in the eyes, his voice a deadly whisper. “We need to get to Sir Brown Horse and make a run for it, but all those people down there are going to try and stop us. I'll protect us as best I can, but if you have to, use this.” He ripped the short-sword from its sheath and placed it in my hands. As small as it looked compared to other swords I had seen, it felt tremendous in my tiny grip. “Only as a last resort. Can you do that, Micasa?”
The idea of swinging a blade around myself was almost enough to paralyze me with fear. Practicing with Blake was one thing, but using it in a real fight was something I had never considered. At the same time, I knew Hawke wouldn't do this unless things were worse than I thought. A few more bangs sounded behind me, and the other gate guard was beginning to drag himself back to his feet. Hawke was putting his trust in me in a way he never had before.
“Okay,” I answered, tightening my grip on the pommel. He smiled and patted me on the head. Then it was back under his arm for me, and with a leap, Hawke took to the steps leading back to the training ground three at a time. My stomach dropped into my feet as I finally caught sight of just how high up the stairs had taken us. A tiny insane voice in the back of my mind rejoiced to see I was right about how the trainees below looked like ants.
The other guard had recovered enough to stand, but we were already halfway down the stairs by the time he managed to stumble to the edge. Instead of chasing, he opted to bellow down, “Stop them!”
It was a surreal sight to behold as over a thousand faces turned and stared straight at us in unison. A thousand faces attached to a thousand armed soldiers who were just practicing optimal ways of killing people. I couldn't stop the nervous giggle that bubbled up.
“Hang on!” Hawke advised, though what he expected me to hang onto I have no idea. The closest trainees collapsed in on him with spears and daggers as he touched ground, all striking as one. He pulled me close to his chest and balled up, forcing their steel to crash into him. Their attacks had as much effect as the bandits outside Nostromos, bouncing off his body with all the lethality of soft rubber. Hawke stood and swung his sword in a wide arc. The soldiers jumped away to avoid, but in midair they were suddenly catapulted backwards by an unseen power, sending them flailing to the dirt.
Several dozen more were already stepping around the prone bodies ready to lash out, but Hawke was sprinting at full speed past them before they could reach him. A handful of soldiers in the distance reared back and hurled their spears with frightening accuracy, but they clattered off Hawke without slowing him in the slightest. A dozen more thunks behind us indicated what was likely a hailstorm of javelins following our progress.
The trip towards the keep hadn't felt terribly long, but with an entire army closing in like two murderous walls, the exit seemed to shrink away the faster Hawke ran, even at his breakneck pace. A mass of warriors now fell upon him on all sides, striking anywhere they could reach with spear and sword alike. A few noticed me tucked against his breast and attempted to spear me through his arms. Hawke's blade danced around to deflect most, but a few managed to slip through his guard. It was all I could do to wave my own blade in a desperate attempt to stave those few off, and though a couple came perilously close, the worst I suffered for it was a spearhead piercing through my robe and striking Hawke's impervious body.
My guardian let out a battle cry, and just like that, the dome of attackers was hurled away from him in every direction. They collided with their fellows who were trying to join the fight, giving Hawke an opening to make a break for the exit once more.
Finally, we exploded through the archway into the town proper, but our pursuers were still hot on our heels. Hawke wove through the abandoned streets, storefronts and residences blurring by. He turned onto a wide central road that ended at a large stone building with sturdy wooden gates. A pair of soldiers guarding the gates hollered at the sight of us, but Hawke plunged straight towards the door. A few flicks of his sword deflected their attacks, and with a sweep of his hand, both guards were sent flying backwards into stone walls, where they crumpled unmoving.
“Get it open!” he shouted, setting me on my feet. From the other side of the gate, I caught the smell of horses and hay, realizing we had reached the stables. Off in the distance, I could hear the muted shouts of our chasers growing louder each second. For a moment my mind blanked.
“Micasa!” Hawke cried urgently. I snapped back to reality and fumbled with the door for a second. When it didn't budge, I ripped a hairpin from my head and jammed it in the keyhole. There was a pop, and with Hawke's help, we wrenched the doors to the stables open.
The building was packed with a number of the largest horses I had ever seen before, snorting and stamping nervously at the sudden intrusion. Sir Brown Horse was lounging in a corner munching on hay contently, looking particularly small in comparison to his war-bred brethren. We hurried to saddle our mount and load our things onto him as the din outside kept escalating. By the time we had climbed onto his back, a number of fighters had run onto the road and noticed the stable doors open.
“Whatever happens, don't let go of the reins,” Hawke advised me. Without waiting for an answer, he kicked Sir Brown Horse immediately into
a full gallop, firing out of the stables at top speed. Several soldiers were running at us, but a few jumped out of the way at the sight of us charging headlong into them. Those gutsy enough to take a stab as we passed were parried by Hawke's quick blade work.
Back and forth Hawke steered our mount through side streets and main thoroughfares, sometimes completely backtracking around as we attempted to avoid clusters of roaming soldiers. Those that couldn't be avoided were blocked time and again by Hawke when they weren't hurling themselves out of the path of Sir Brown Horse's pounding hooves.
At last, we reached a long stretch of road leading straight to the gates we had entered. It was strange to think that, for everything that had happened, we had come through those same gates only maybe a half hour before. Now all that was standing between us and freedom were those doors, the guards standing at the ready next to them, and about a hundred trainee soldiers pouring out of alleyways and side lanes straight toward us.
“Micasa, remember what I said about holding onto the reins,” Hawke reminded me. “Trust me, it'll be okay.”
“Mmm,” I managed to grunt. I found it hard to focus on anything other than the small army charging at us.
“This part's gonna suck for me.” he moaned wearily. With a kick of his heels, we were off at a gallop again. Then, just as we hit full speed, Hawke rolled off the saddle. If he hadn't been so adamant about telling me to keep a tight hold, I might have very well fallen off at the sheer sight of what he did next.
Hawke rocketed forward on the ground faster than anything I imagined was possible, easily breaking Sir Brown Horse's pace by threefold. As he raced forward, the soldiers barring the path were tossed aside just being in his proximity, weapons scattering from surprised hands. He reached the doors well ahead of me, ripping the crossbar away like it were a stick. The guards who had been watching the gate were long gone when they caught sight of Hawke's unbelievable feat, leaving him free to shove the gates open. Sir Brown Horse and I were fast approaching, and now I could see the mob of refugees still bustling on the other side. In seconds we would barrel straight into them.
Hawke wasn't done yet, though. He clapped his hands together, holding them for a few seconds, then whipped them in a wide arc to either side of his body. There came an uproar of screams from the frightened crowd as they were flung to either side of the road, leaving a wide path that I was more than happy to ride straight down.
I managed to slow down Sir Brown Horse just long enough to let Hawke haul himself up, then we were off like the wind. Innumerable shouts were raising behind us but we dared not look back, riding so hard that Sir Brown Horse's breath came in steamy bursts. We rode like that for as long as we could, turning off-trail and cutting through open countryside whenever possible. The sky darkened so quickly I thought we had been riding through the whole day, but it only turned out to be heavy black clouds that had rolled in, unnoticed by us in our escape.
Eventually, we slowed to a trot as we reached a grove of firs that we hoped to catch our breath behind. Hawke, Sir Brown Horse, and I all were panting mightily, the horse from exertion, and myself from the sheer adrenaline coursing through me. A few errant raindrops began to pelt us, followed shortly by a veritable torrent. Hawke tilted his head back, looked to the sky, and let out a bellowing laugh like nothing I had ever heard from him.
“Even Mother Nature's on our side, Micasa!” he exclaimed, wrapping an arm around me in a tight hug. “You were incredible back there. They'll be telling that story for years to come! Let's find a place to settle down for a bit.”
We managed to find a spot where the branches grew thick enough together to mostly shelter us from the rain. Hawke gathered up some tinder into a pile and, from a single spark off, his flint had a campfire roaring in the blink of an eye. I was content lying on the ground, trying to piece together any part of our escape so that it made sense.
“What in the world did you do?” I managed to wheeze out after some time. “People were flying away without you touching them. Was that the power you got from the Lady?” Hawke had propped himself against a tree, still panting like he had forgotten how to breathe. He shook his head a little and shot me a twisted smile.
“That little trick was courtesy of Mr. Kamson. Lets me move things just with the power of my mind and some essence. Don't use it often, though, very tiring to use it too much.” His heavy breathing was certainly testament to that. I had never seen him so exhausted before.
“So what did she have of yours?”
“My…how to put it…my emotions?” He snorted and rolled his eyes. “Tell me honestly, did you ever think I acted a little, um, too calm while we've been together?” Thinking back on it, it did seem like Hawke often underreacted to things most people would have flown off the handle on.
“I guess so,” I said. “You're saying you haven't felt anything the whole time we were travelling?”
“Not nothing. But my feelings have been, I guess I'd say, muted this whole time.” Hawke let out another chuckle that grew into a cackle I found unnatural for him. This new Hawke was going to take some getting used to.
“Man, I feel better than I have in ages,” he said, still cackling. His laughter forced a smile out of me in spite of my exhaustion. A tiny worry in the back of my head was still burning, though.
“Are we safe here?” I asked. Considering how hard they tried to keep us from escaping, I was skeptical that the whole city of Val'Hala wouldn't be out searching for us.
“Well, Lheona is a very proud woman,” Hawke mused. “She'll probably send a couple small squads out to sweep the immediate area around the city, but I don't think they'll stray too far. She's too dignified to risk her Lord husband finding out someone pushed around their entire army and escaped without a scratch. Plus, with all this rain, most of our tracks should be covered before they have a chance to track us.”
He read the unease still on my face and scooted over to sit next to me. “You go ahead and take a nap. I'll keep watch, okay?”
A little sleep sounded like a great idea, but as hard as I tried I just wasn't sleepy after all the excitement of the day. I tossed and turned for a few minutes on my blanket before giving it up and sitting up.
“It's no use, Hawke,” I started telling him. To my surprise, he was completely out, still sitting with his arms crossed over his knees. For all the time I had known him, I had never actually seen him sleep. He always seemed to be awake when I went to bed and was always up before I awoke. Considering the spectacle Hawke put on for us to make our escape, it was no wonder he had no energy left.
I took some time to feed Sir Brown Horse and brush him a bit, taking a bite to eat for myself as well. Then I took a seat next to my companion and tugged my new little short-sword free, laying it at my side. After all he had done, the least I could afford Hawke was to take one night of watch.
Chapter 18: The Regretful Man
As luck would have it, Hawke's prediction that nobody would come for us was mostly true. Somebody did come poking around in the wee hours of the morning, but it only turned out to be the homeowner whose land we had accidentally stumbled onto in our flight. He blew up just a bit when he caught sight of our little camp. This in turn woke Hawke immediately, who was so quick to draw his sword that the poor fellow was sent scampering away in terror.
Hawke apologized several times for falling asleep on watch, even after I repeatedly made it clear I understood how tired he was. We decided it would be best to pick up and get moving, just in case our unwitting host was off to alert the authorities to our location. Once the fire was well and out, we were back on our way west, following the moon as it occasionally peeked out from the clouds on its own journey to the horizon.
We kept well south of any main roads, sticking instead to the cobbled streets the locals likely used to visit their neighbors or head into the city. When there was no path that led where we needed, Hawke stubbornly pushed our horse through yards and fields in any attempt to avoid drawing closer to Val'Hala. Ev
en as far as we strayed from course, the sandy line that was the city walls was still visible just on the northern horizon, standing vigil.
A whole day passed before Hawke felt comfortable turning towards the main road again. The last glimpses of the Lonely Kingdom were long gone by then, and now I switched my attention back to our map. There was a morbid enjoyment for me to cross our path through the dot labeled Val'Hala, to the point that I added a few extra scribbles over it for good measure. Tracing the way ahead following the main road, I found that there was only one city left along that path; one that sat right on the coast of Astra.
“We're going to Damkarei, right?” I asked. “Is that our last stop?”
Hawke let out a weird, shuddering exhalation. “It is, but we have one place we're heading before that.”
“But there's nowhere else on the map,” I argued, looking over it twice just to be sure. Hawke's whole body shuddered this time.
“No, it's not a town. It's where Lheona said I'd find the gypsy camp.” I remembered Hawke asking about that from the Lady and finally put two and two together.
“We're going to see Rouge!” I cried with excitement. Just saying her name made Hawke yip awkwardly. I was confused by his reaction. “Don't you want to see her?”
“Eh, well, yeah and no.” He scratched the back of his head so hard his hair frizzed up. “I haven't seen her in so long, and I still have no idea why she…did what she did.”
I had almost forgotten that it was because this mysterious Rouge broke Hawke's essence that our adventure had begun in the first place. All the great times I had with him, and all the near-deadly escapes, and even Hawke didn't know why this had happened. I couldn't figure out if I wanted to thank her or yell at her when we finally met.
Finally, we came upon the main road once more, built out of huge chunks of granite expertly fitted together so snugly you'd think the road had been carved from one giant hunk of stone that stretched for miles. Hawke grew positively twitchy as we set back onto it, constantly throwing glances along the side and jumping at the slightest noise, only to grow sour when he realized it was just a bird or some rodent scurrying about.
Broken Soul (The Scholar's Legacy Book 1) Page 22
