Oathbreaker: A Tale of the Wilds

by R J Murray

  Still, she had no answer.

  The others gathered their belongings and loaded up their packs with food rations and water for several days. That, surely, couldn’t be a good sign she thought to herself.

  “Til!” Jochum called and the gnome stuck her head out of the engine room.

  “What?”

  “This is as far as we can take the ship. Once we leave, take her up high and stay there. Give us four days and if not back, leave.”

  “I’ll give you five, but just because I want the company when I fly back home.”

  The surly gnome flashed the warrior a grin and ducked back into the engine room before anyone could see the glimmer of unshed tears in her eyes. She knew the dangers they faced as much as any and had a distinct feeling she wouldn’t see them all again.

  “Why didn’t you ask her to take the oath?” Mia directed the question to Jochum, but it was the mage who answered her.

  “Five humans made the spell; five humans must unmake it.”

  “This is it then, lass. What’s it to be?”

  She looked at each of the adventurers in turn, seeing the determination warring with fear on the face of Elva as she thought of the husband and daughter she may never see again. The introspective look Syn wore as he remembered the last time he had been in that place.

  Wynn’s thoughts and feelings were hidden behind the mask he wore, showing naught but his arrogance and disdain for the others. While Jochum just watched her, not showing anything other than determination.

  If she chose not to take the oath, they would still go and do what they could to save the world from the evil they had contained. They would fail though, unable even to break the spell that sealed the evil in.

  They would have to wait for it to fail, possibly a year or more with all the while the creature growing stronger. Once freed it would be impossible for them to contain it and the first to die would spend eternity guarding an empty cave.

  But still, they would try, respecting her choice because without her giving the oath freely, the magic wouldn’t work.

  “I-I’ll do it.”

  “Good, lass. Then gather your things. We have a two-day hike to the cave.”

  The big warrior crossed the hold towards the rear of the ship and reached down, behind the water barrels for a heavy chest that had been hidden from casual view. He flipped open the lid and stared down at what was contained inside.

  “Long time since I thought I would wear this again,” he said softly, voice barely audible.

  He let the lid fall and lifted the chest with a grunt, carrying it through to the forward cabin and closing the door behind him. Mia looked at the others, but they gave no cause for concern, so she busied herself by filling her water bottle and stuffing rations parcels into her pack.

  By the time she was done, the others were all ready and waiting. Mia reached down and patted the leather pouch that hung on her hip. It contained the few regents she had practised with on the boat along with the spell book Wynn had given her.

  It wasn’t much compared to his, but she could call on her magic almost every time and had become adept at forming shapes of air and giving them strength and solidity. She had even practised a little with some other spells when the others had been asleep and while not nearly as confident with them, she felt safer for having them.

  The forward cabin door opened and Jochum stepped out as Mia’s mouth dropped open and she stared with unabashed wonder at the powerful warrior.

  His breastplate was made of silver metal discs, mimicking the scales of a fish. It covered him from neck to groin. There were rounded, half covering cuisses on his upper legs and the lower legs had greaves attached.

  Chainmail rerebraces covered his upper arms and steel vambraces covered his lower. Dome-shaped steel pauldrons covered his shoulders and a helm sat on his head, the rounded top decorated with outstretched dragon wings.

  The battered sword he had been wearing was gone and, in its place, a night black scabbard hung from his belt. The longswords hilt shone silver in the light of the globes set around the inside of the hull and another dragon rested atop the pommel stone.

  He looked like nothing short of a hero out of a tale-tellers story and the mere sight of him took Mia’s breath away. Elva nodded approvingly, a smile forming on her face.

  “Nice to see you again, old friend.”

  “Been long enough,” Syn added while the mage just glowered in his usual manner.

  “Aye, well, let’s be off then.” Jochum reached for the winch that would open the side hatch, repaired by Til after Mia had cut the rope. He glanced back at the others, eyes settling on Mia. “Be prepared for anything out there and be careful.”

  She nodded, mouth dry and hand gripping the hilt of the dagger she wore on her belt. Foul air entered the hold as the hatchway opened and oily rain blew in. She grimaced as it stuck to her leathers, leaving a slimy trail as she wiped it off.

  Outside the hull, the twisted branches of the trees shook with the heavy rain and the companions pulled on their cloaks before leaving the safety of the ship. They stepped out into the natural glade in some tormented parody of a forest and didn’t look back to watch the gnome winch the hatchway shut.

  “Don’t touch the trees,” Elva said as she gestured for Mia to follow her. “If you’re lucky, their poison will only burn your skin and not kill you.”

  Mia stared at first her, then the trees in question and shook her head. The bark was rough and faintly green in colour. There was no moss growing on it and around the base of many of the trees was a ring of dead insects.

  She shuddered and kept her hands close to her sides as she followed after the others.

  They hadn’t gone far before Elva pulled back on her bow and swung it upwards, loosing an arrow into the branches above. A howl sounded, cutting through the companions like the screech of a cat, and something scampered away.

  “Blasted imps!”

  “Save your arrows,” Jochum commanded. “There’ll be time enough for their need.”

  The noises of the twisted forest were alien to Mia. Instead of the buzzing of insects and singing of the birds, there was growling and snarling from deep within the undergrowth. In the branches above, even the bird’s cries were more like shrieks as they attacked one another.

  Mud clung to her boots, every step giving off a foul odour as her booted foot sank up to the ankles. The rain seemed relentless and there were few trails for them to follow beneath the trees with branches that looked much like spindly fingers ready to reach down and grab at her.

  Between those branches, were vines, strung here and there much like the web of a giant spider. The hairs rose on the back of her neck as she realised they looked exactly like the web of a spider.

  “Corruption take it!” Wynn snapped as his foot sank in yet another foul-smelling patch of mud. “I don’t remember it being this bad.”

  “Was a long time ago we were last here,” Syn said, lifting his shoulders in a shrug. He had a knife in either hand and his head was constantly moving as he watched the shadowed places beneath the trees. “And you were younger, and thinner, back then.”

  “Silence yourself! I have no mood for your back talk.”

  “Nor for any… watch out!”

  Syn’s arm raised and the dagger flew from it before Mia could so much as blink and she followed its course, her own dagger coming free of its sheath and stopping, half raised. She stared as the thief carefully pushed past a bush with flowers the colour of burnt umber. Its serrated leaves scored the leather he wore.

  He pulled the dagger free of the tree where it had landed and flicked off the spider that he had pierced. Its body was the size of her hand and had a mottled carapace of brown hues that allowed it to blend into the undergrowth. Syn noticed her look and grinned.

  “Nasty buggers. They can jump the length of a cart and their bite will kill you.”

  She shuddered and watched the trees nervously as they started moving again. She was well aw
are that she was almost entirely reliant upon the seasoned adventurers and unlike many who braved the wilds, she hadn’t started at the outer edges where the corruption was not so strong.

  “Could have been worse,” Elva commented to the thief. “Could have been an adult.”

  Mia licked dry lips and moved a little closer to the others, hoping that if anything attacked, or even came close, they would see it first and give fair warning.

  Somewhere in the distance, a hoot sounded, and she stared over to the east from where the sound had come. The others exchanged looks, their faces grim.

  “I thought there were none this far in,” Wynn snapped.

  “There wasn’t, at least not the last time we were here. They must have expanded their territory.”

  “Who has?” Mia asked in a small voice.

  “Owlbears,” Wynn said sourly. “If we’re in their territory then we’re in for a bad time.”

  “Oh…”

  Jochum pulled his sword clear of his scabbard with his right hand and a dagger from over his other hip with his left. Suitably prepared, he nodded grimly and led the group in silence deeper into the twisted forest.

  Chapter 20

  Amina nodded her thanks as the cowled priestess pulled open the bronze plated door and bowed low. She remained in that position until the high priestess had entered her private meditation chamber and then silently closed the door once more.

  The room was a simple square with a small altar before the wall opposite the door by which she had entered. A velvet cloth was draped over the marble surface and a golden symbol of Ysnir rested upon it.

  She had considered that symbol many times since she had taken her place at the head of her order. The gold that it was made of alone would fund a family for several years if they lived modestly and her goddess cared little for the trappings of wealth after all.

  But it had been a gift from the city lords and as such, she was required to keep it at least for a little time before she quietly had it removed and melted down. A smile formed at the thought of how the city lords would react should they know her intentions. Gold meant little to her and a great deal to them. Enough so, one would almost consider them merchants.

  Amina pulled up the hem of her simple white robes and knelt down before the altar. She bowed her head, clasping her hands together in her lap and calmed her breathing, sinking into that calm, trance-like state where she found the greatest communion with her goddess.

  Many years before, she had tried to explain the feeling to her beloved, a man who acknowledged the gods but gave no worship. She had spoken often of the calmness and the tranquillity that came over her as she prayed. All to little avail. He had stubbornly refused to consider the worth of serving a deity of any kind.

  At the thought of him, her heart beat a little faster and sorrow washed over her. News of his death had hit her hard and no matter how things had ended between them those many years ago, she would have never stopped loving him.

  It had been a bittersweet meeting with her old friend and one-time companion in the company of the raven as they had broken the news to her. Joy at seeing them for the first time in many years had been stripped away as news of Jochum's death was relayed to her.

  There had even been a moment of relief that she hated herself for as she realised that she would no longer face the threat of her soul being bound for an eternity to a prison and forever denied rest in the halls of her goddess.

  She shook her head gently, hair falling around her face as she banished those thoughts. She ignored the tear that ran down her cheek and silently recited the prayer of mourning for the man she had loved.

  Once complete, she turned her attention back to soothing her mind, of bringing peace and finding that place deep within herself, a place of serene calm where she could most easily feel the presence of Ysnir.

  It took some time, longer than usual, as though there were something not quite right. A disquiet felt at the back of the mind that wouldn’t go away, a feeling of something close by that was obstructing her communion.

  A line appeared on the smooth skin of her brow as she concentrated, fighting past that feeling and sending her consciousness ever inwards in search of that place. She stripped away the pain, the fear and the sorrow she felt at the loss of Jochum.

  Let the nights spent with torrents of tears and sleeplessness fall away, the endless worry for the people of the city she loved that she couldn’t help because her resources were just not enough. The anger at the city lords for not doing more to improve the lives of those within the city walls.

  It was an endless fall into herself and there, at the end, when all else had been stripped away, she found the calm centre of her being. It was a place of quiet peace, a pure light that enveloped her and stretched away endlessly all around her.

  There was the place where she could feel her very soul and with it, reach out and connect with something infinity larger, her goddess.

  Every time she had reached that place, had reached out and touched the bare edge of Ysnirs presence, she had felt an overwhelming love and support. It filled her with renewed hope and faith and left her energised, filled with the strength she needed to do the will of the goddess.

  But that time, as she touched it, she recoiled, consciousness racing back up and out as her eyes snapped open and she gasped aloud at the warning she had just received. A darkness was waking and one of its agents was close!

  ****

  Kristdor hurried through the darkened streets of the city, two dozen of his best men behind him and more on their way. Vala ran beside him, her breath coming in gasps as she tried to keep up. A lifetime of study had left her little in the way of stamina when it came to physical actions.

  They turned up into the temple district, ignoring the occasional worshipper leaving a temple or a novice headed about on some errand. The sounds of their boots echoed from the tall buildings, and they each had their sword and truncheon in their hands.

  “Bjarnar! Take a squad and head to the rear!” Kristdor called as they reached the temple of Ysnir.

  He stared up at the stone symbol of the goddess set above the arch of the door and swallowed hard. If he were wrong, then he would be about to trespass upon a holy space and arrest the chosen of the goddess herself.

  “Well,” Vala said between gasps for breath. She watched the sergeant peel off with six other constables, heading around the side of the temple. “Better hope you are right or be prepared for a lightning strike from above.”

  “Thanks,” he said dryly. “That’s a great deal of comfort.”

  She nodded and flashed a grin at her brother then turned and looked over the temple. The stonework was impressive. While her beloved college was a series of simple squares of stone, mostly resembling a child’s blocks. The temple of Ysnir was indeed beautiful and still somehow solid, as though standing firm before some enemy only the goddess could know. Befitting, she supposed, for the goddess of duty.

  Tall towers rose up to almost touch the sky, and delicate arches and curved stone blended gracefully into the solid buttresses and thick walls. The pale stone gleamed white in the noonday sun, while at night, it glowed gently in the reflected light of moon and stars.

  Windows of stained glass filled the walls, their images striking and depicting scenes that reflected the core tenets of Ysnir. Vala found herself frowning as she looked at them.

  “Where are all the lights?”

  Kristdor glanced at her and then the building, eyebrows rising as he saw what she had. The temples were open to the faithful to visit and make their devotions at any time of day or night. They kept lights burning in their windows at all times.

  The lights in the temple of Ysnir had gone out.

  He readied his short sword and looked to his sister as she muttered words of power. A light flashed in her eyes and she stared at the wide doors for a moment before shaking her head.

  “I can see no obvious magical traps.”

  “Right then. Stay close,�
� he whispered before starting forward, his constables following close behind.

  The doors swung open silently at just a touch and Kristdor stood on the threshold, staring into the darkened hall within. Empty benches were set in rows, a shiny patina on their surface from countless years of worshipers sitting on them.

  Along the walls where the lamps usually burned, were only empty sconces. Kristdor stepped inside, glass crunching beneath his boots from the shattered lamps that had been flung around the hall.

  He shared a look with his sister and she raised her left hand, speaking magic and a light appeared there. It shone bright white, the light creating shadows that shifted and danced as she walked, moving her hand around to shine the light into the corners and alcoves.

  The scent of the oil used in the lamps was everywhere and the oil itself stained wall and floor alike. They walked carefully along the aisles between the rows of benches, taking time to place each step and staying close together.

  “You were right,” Vala said, voice barely above a whisper as they found the first priest.

  He lay spread-eagled on the floor, his white novice robes stained black with his own blood as his entrails were strewn all around. Kristdor silenced the fear-filled murmurings of his constables with a sharp glance.

  “We’re in the temple of Ysnir. She will not look kindly on those who abandon their duty to find the one that murdered her priests.”

  There was no answer from the men and women behind him and he led them further into the temple. His palms were sweaty, and he wished he dared stop and wipe them but knew that he needed to show strength to those who followed him.

  In the corridor, three more bodies were found. Sightless eyes staring back at them accusingly as if asking why they hadn’t arrived sooner. Their blood and insides were spread around as though the killer had been in a frenzy.

  “It’s never killed like this,” Vala said, face pale and eyes haunted. “Why now?”

  “A warning, perhaps or just a way to show its fury for our hurting it the last time we met.”

  She nodded and reached into a pocket on her robe with her free hand, pulling out more regents for her spells so as to be prepared.