Bloodletting Part 2

by Peter J. Wacks

  Ten minutes of walking through the wooded area led them to a camp tucked in behind a small grove of ash trees. Another private and a corporal, looked up from their seats around a dead fire pit. The scent of smoke still hung in the air around the camp. Several horses had been hitched to a nearby tree, in case any of them needed to make a speedier report to the castle. Scratching an itch on his arm, Tetra looked around the camp in awe.

  He was amazed at how easily the camp had been concealed from him. It seemed surreal that several men, a fire, and a bunch of horses could be invisible until he walked around a certain tree, but he had witnessed it with his own eyes. Catching orocs unawares was going to be a challenge. Staying alive and not letting them catch him was going to be an even bigger challenge. Tetra was glad the guardsman had caught him. Without this, he never would have realized that he needed to learn these things.

  The guardsman laughed as he greeted the other men in the camp, snapping Tetra back into focus on the moment, drawing him away from his thoughts. After introducing Tetra, the private deferred to the corporal, who took one of the packs. When he opened it, his pudgy unshaven face beamed in delight.

  The corporal snapped his finger, extending a hand toward the fire pit, which burst into flame. He tossed the pack across the fire, and the other man unpacked it, casually tossing the packages of food into the fire. Each one floated in place before actually landing in the flames.

  The smell of herb-roasted chicken and fresh bread wafted up, among other items that would be considered delicacies for any soldier stuck out in the field, as the fire warmed the food. “Ain’t this a treat? C’mon, men. Tuck in. Can’t let this go to waste.” He grinned at Tetra and patted the ground. “You, too, lad. Must be hungry, walking all this way.”

  He nibbled on a chunk of bread and goat cheese as the men exulted over the food. Is life so boring out here that a simple meal is enough to make all this excitement? Tetra wondered. Sometimes he understood the soldier’s lives, but sometimes it seemed completely foreign to him. All of the guards seemed tired and worn out at first, but that quickly changed. Their spirits warmed by the unexpected food, they soon chatted freely with him. As they ate, a couple other privates rotated off watch-shifts and joined the meal.

  He spent much of the afternoon with the advance scouts, enjoying their company and jokes. They gladly talked about some of their longer forays, though most of the privates had yet to join any major campaigns.

  They exchanged tales from the oroc encounter, each trying to top the other with stories of daring deeds and increasingly unlikely feats of strength. Every tale was filed away in Tetra’s mind, compared against what he had seen and knew, as well as the stories he had heard from other soldiers.

  He started asking them about scouting itself, pushing about the things they did, not just stories of battle. How did they keep hidden from enemies while on the move? How did they scrounge up food if they ran out of rations? How did they know where to go if they didn’t have a map?

  They took turns answering, appearing glad to have an eager audience who soaked in their wisdom. One even showed him how to set a basic rabbit snare using a length of rope and a sapling. Tetra felt a little guilty, but he remembered the conversations he had had with his dad when he had talked about how to manipulate people. Get a man talking about himself, his father had said, and whether you are a Psion or not, you can twist them to your will. All you have to do is be fascinated by the person. The more you dig into the things they do and keep them talking about themselves the more they will want to keep you listening. People love to talk about themselves. That is power you can steal and use. Just don’t use it to hurt them unless they are trying to hurt the people around you.

  At the time Tetra hadn’t really understood why his dad had been telling him those things. But now he got it. Listening to people was a weapon. The more you did it, the more people just told you stuff that was useful.

  So Tetra listened with everything he had because his sister’s rescue hung in the balance. And he learned.

  Finally, the corporal sat back, patting his belly as he gnawed on a chicken leg. “Getting late. You best head back. I don’t want them sending a whole search party after you on our account.”

  Tetra grinned and stood. He felt almost guilty about the deception he was about to unfold. Almost.

  Save her …

  “Don’t forget this one’s for tomorrow.” He dragged the other pack over and opened it—but frowned as he revealed dry rations instead of another assortment of baked goods. Tetra looked up, feigning a crestfallen look. “I must’ve grabbed the wrong pack. I’m sorry. Really sorry.”

  The corporal chuckled. “No worries, lad. Still plenty enough in this one.” He patted the half-full pack they’d been drawing from all this time. “Take that one back. We’ve already got enough to last us this rotation. Someone will get good use out of it. The kitchen master knows how to preserve them so they won’t spoil for weeks.”

  After assuring them he could find his way back alone, he bade them farewell and a safe remainder of their rotation. Then Tetra headed south. Once far enough to be out of sight, he veered east until he spotted the forest road through the trees. On the edge of the woods, he found a large oak with a distinctive root pattern, one he thought he’d be able to find again easily enough.

  He set the pack of rations down and studied the ground. While he couldn’t shift dirt like a Tecton, he lowered the density of the earth at the base of the tree until it scooped up with ease. Casting a last glance around to make sure he remained alone, he placed the pack in the hole and pushed the dirt pile back over it. Then he firmed the concealing earth until it lay as hard as baked clay. Hopefully that’d keep any wild animals from digging it up until he returned.

  Now, far lighter on his feet, Tetra broke into a slow jog south, heading for the castle. He still couldn’t run, but at least this was faster than walking. His mind and heart lightened a little as well. Just a few more preparations to make and he’d be ready.

  ***

  Chapter Seventeen

  Pavil Serevin

  Sibyl woke the boys before sunrise. “Come on now,” she said, throwing their furs aside as they rubbed sleep from their eyes. “Another herd is coming close.” She moved on to wake another group. Pavil bounced up and Malec stared groggily at him.

  Despite the events of the night before, Pavil couldn’t hide his excitement. After the unexpected success of the last hunt, they’d been given half their usual camp chores for a whole week. He reached for the oversized boots one of the Admired had fashioned for him out of the rocboar hide. Nothing fancy, but plenty comfortable and warm.

  Everyone dressed and followed Sibyl. They left the encampment to the sounds of the forest starting to wake. She guided them a few miles away to a shallow stream. They studied the area from a low overhang. The stream was wide enough to need a crossing of some sort, cutting through the forest in a winding path, but shallow enough to be forded.

  “They will come across there,” Sibyl said, pointing to a rocky patch in the stream. “The rocks breaking the surface mean that this is a shallow point. The rest of us will be up a little ways so they don’t scent us and spook. One of the big males always crosses first. We’ll scare the rest of the herd away, and you work your magic, Pavil.”

  “What are you going to do?” Malec asked without looking away from the crossing.

  Whenever Sibyl smiled, Pavil felt willing to tackle a boar with his bare hands if she asked. “You’ll know it when you see it,” she said before darting off.

  “Oh good,” Malec said. “At least we know what we’re in for this time.” He settled against a tree, and Pavil followed suit to wait. Pavil’s thoughts drifted to Jaegen and the oroc camp.

  After a while he glanced over to his friend, “Do you think the others are okay?”

  Malec frowned at the stream. “I don’t know, Pavil. I’m sorry.”

  “Do you think we’ll ever make it back home?”

  Male
c grunted. “We’re lucky we’ve made it this far. And back to what home?”

  “Back to …” Pavil trailed off as he realized what Malec meant. Back to all the burned-down homes and terrible memories? Did he even want to go back at this point? Where else could they go? Was this home now? Their life?

  A loud rustling from across the stream made the boys sit up and stop talking. The rocboar herd milled about until a large boar came forward and drank from the flowing water, studying the opposing bank. Chuffing once, water droplets sprayed from it snout. It shook its massive head and splashed across, bellowing for the herd to follow.

  A wall of water rose behind it, folding in on itself and blocking the bank. Pavil looked upstream but saw no one. An impressive distance for a Tidus to use his ability. Alarmed calls echoed through the forest as the passel stampeded away. The boar lumbered back and forth before the wall of water, but its highest point followed his movements.

  “That’s the signal,” Pavil said, running out onto the trail behind the enraged animal.

  “Wait, Pavil,” Malec hissed after him.

  He reached out with his affinity, probing the emotions of the boar. Pavil spread his feet and bravely stood on the bank just yards from the massive hog. It wheeled at his movement and bellowed again. Pavil’s excitement chilled to fear as the boar stomped and tossed its head back.

  “Make it hungry,” Malec shouted.

  “I … I can’t,” he cried back. “It’s not hungry at all, just angry.” Pavil’s brave stance turned on him as his knees froze in fear.

  Malec screamed to the hidden Admired. “Riktos, hit it!”

  The boar charged. No giant spears came. Pavil stood locked in place, unable to tear his gaze from the beast’s red-rimmed eyes as it closed the gap.

  A loud whirring ended in a thud. The rocboar’s roar silenced as it dropped and slid to a stop a few feet from Pavil. It puffed a final breath and fell still. A longsword hilt protruded from the side of its neck where the blade had severed the animal’s spine.

  Pavil shook, breath coming in short, panicked gasps. He turned to see Malec standing on the overhang, looking shocked. Sweat glistened on his brow as he lowered his outstretched hand.

  Neither spoke. Sibyl and the rest of the hunting party ran into view. They gathered around the animal. One Admired with an empty scabbard at his waist pulled the sword from the dead boar’s neck. The man held the bent blade up with an astounded expression. His eyes flicked from Malec to the boar to Sibyl.

  “We were easily three hundred paces away,” he said.

  Sibyl’s smile returned. “Brave of you to be the bait, Pavil.”

  He smiled back, still trembling, still too scared to speak.

  Her gaze shifted to Malec and her eyes narrowed. She quickly shook the expression and her features opened back up into a wide smile. “An impressive feat. One could almost say … admirable. Well done, Malec.”

  Riktos stared at him with contempt on his lips. Malec raised an eyebrow at him. The two stood frozen, gazes locked. Pavil heard unspoken words float through the space between them. I may have failed this time, but I will kill you both.

  Pavil could feel that Malec was sick of the Admired. He was sick of not being able to do anything about their friends being held prisoner. He was sick of being put in mortal danger. Most of all though, he was just sick of Riktos. Pavil felt much the same way, though Malec seemed unafraid to antagonize the powerful Archon. To the Voids with the man. Malec shrugged at Riktos and looked back to the rocboar, he obviously didn’t care anymore. The dismissal only stoked the hatred within the man.

  The hunting party was scattering around the boar’s corpse. Riktos stopped glaring at Malec’s back and turned to help another Archon prepare to transport the hog back to camp, assisted by a couple Vorten. Many Admired congratulated the boys, and Jaimson slapped Pavil on the back hard enough to make him stumble. Malec joined them down on the path, and the man with the longsword handed the bent blade to him.

  “Here, it’s yours. You should be able to straighten it out back at camp.”

  Malec accepted the sword with a tentative smile. “Uh, thanks.”

  As the group got underway, the rocboar corpse shifting along with them, Pavil watched his friend study his new weapon. He didn’t know if Malec realized it, but he fingered the blade’s edge whenever he glanced Riktos’ way.

  ***

  Chapter Eighteen

  Kellian Mikkels

  Kellian shivered as wind cut across the battlements. The days might be warm, but the spring nights stayed too cold for his tastes. Back home, he would’ve reveled in the warming weather by going for night swims in the bay and catching catfish in the rivers by moonlight. Home. He missed it, but wouldn’t trade where he was to go back.

  He paced the top of the stone wall, stopping at each archer’s crenellation and scanning the fields. Major Reynolds had taken him off a single post at the gates and assigned him to several patrol routes along the north wall. The guardsman shortage since the oroc attack and the doubling of sentries on the south wall necessitated the adjustment, but it was still a horrible duty roster to be stuck on.

  He looked off into the dark. The stories Tetra told of Jaegen troubled him and left him wondering what remained of the place. Not one to be plagued by nightmares, he still found himself occasionally waking in a sweat, thinking of the scene they discovered there. He easily imagined the dying villagers, impaled by the earthen spears or burned alive, trapped in their own homes. The battle with the orocs put a face to the nightmares. Oroc. He could see the massive tree people killing the villagers too well now.

  As a child, he’d heard tales of the brutality of war. All of the races, even humanity, committed atrocities in the name of victory. Of course, in his young mind, the forces of Promencia stood valorous and honorable. Only after he’d joined the military did he learn of instances when Promencian valor had failed. He’d also learned that armies were made of people, and that people, trapped in the horror of battle, could become animals. Bloodlust and the overriding desire to live turned the gentlest people into monsters.

  The same held true for the other races. Kellian suspected that people were people, whatever race they came from. Eat, live, and make babies. The animal desires were the same for everyone. While living in Vuldaramere, he often saw members of every race, other than the Shikara, come and go. As a major seaport, Vuldaramere boasted a lively, mingled population. He’d been curious then, fascinated by their appearances and mannerisms.

  Clearing his head of the errant thoughts, he finished the patrol route, studying the dark horizon carefully. It wouldn’t do to miss anything. He wrapped up the route and headed to the next spot, downstairs to the courtyard, checking doors as he went. Jaegen once more rose to the forefront of his thoughts. He’d been there when Lord Drayston promised Tetra they’d do something about the taken children of the village.

  And now Tetra’s uncle came, commanding them with the king’s authority to do nothing but sit and wait. The inaction grated on him, assaulting his sense of justice. The attack on Castle Drayston should be proof enough of oroc aggression to warrant a response.

  He pushed on a small tower door, testing the latch. It didn’t budge. He continued along the base of the wall.

  And what of the matter with the men dressed in Drayston colors? Most thought them just a ragtag militia, but other, darker theories abounded. It could be another noble family attempting to diminish Lord Drayston’s standing, an incredibly risky venture which would cost all involved their heads if discovered, but sadly not unheard of. Provoking war with another race just to back a political move in the courts … he hoped it wasn’t the case.

  The wind still chilled him, but it wasn’t as bad now that he was down off the wall. He glanced around the dark courtyard. It was mostly empty, and the castle was asleep. There was an occasional volamp glowing, but most of the light came from the moon. He turned back to his thoughts as he patrolled.

  Of course, another human
nation could be trying to trigger a war between Promencia and the orocs, but the only country large, and close, enough to benefit from this was Carrigahn. And the Easterners had been staunch allies of Promencia for so long that they might as well be part of the kingdom.

  He checked the lock on a large, chained gate separating the courtyard from the northern armory. An enormous device fashioned from hardened Glasmere steel, it would take five times longer for a Tecton to affect it as normal metals and proved immune to all but the hottest Volcon fire. The intricate lock mechanism made it impossible for a Magnus to open it without the key. All looked in order, so he moved on.

  Beyond a human country, another race—or a faction of one—could’ve set their eyes on Promencia. Weakening them with borderland conflicts preceding an invasion might be a sound strategy. Unlikely, though. The costs of a prolonged war with Promencia always outweighed the benefits.

  The last, most sinister option he pondered was that Drayston had fallen out of favor with King Gerillon. But it seemed ludicrous for the king to go to such lengths just to strip a lord of his lands and title. Of course, he was probably wrong on all fronts. That was why he was a foot soldier, not a lord. It was just … he had one of those minds that niggled at details. He would find an inconsistency and worry at it until he understood how puzzles fit together.

  He rounded a corner and followed the wall past the smithy until he came to the northeast tower. It all came back to Jaegen. That first attack made no sense. It didn’t fit any of the facts. Find the real reason behind the village’s destruction and they’d find those responsible for it. Then punishment could be meted out in full … and he intended to be a party to that end. He had joined the military to protect the kingdom, the citizens. It was his job to be the sword of those who had no way to protect themselves.

  He pushed on a door and balked when it swung open on oiled hinges, revealing the bottom tower floor. A volamp burned on the far wall. No one should be in there, not at this hour.