“Gods save me,” Camdyn remarked, genuinely astonished. “That actually sounded like a compliment.”
“And you, sorceress,” Jasper continued, his smirk apparent by the light-hearted tone of his voice. “You are immensely talented. The world will be a much darker place when they kill you in the morning.”
“Thank you?” She said it like it was a question.
All of them shared a chuckle.
“Damn,” the assassin breathed wistfully after a moment. “This is why I prefer to work alone.”
“Why’s that?” Camdyn asked.
Jasper paused. “Because I’m cursed, sellsword. Everyone I get close to inexplicably winds up dead. It’s been that way ever since I was a child. Whenever I start to like someone, they end up being murdered or falling ill. It’s almost like the gods are punishing me for my chosen profession.”
“Wait, did I hear that right?” Razja let out a mock gasp. “Does the great Jasper Aurelio actually like his companions?”
“Like is a strong word,” he answered brusquely. “I’ve merely grown to tolerate your presence.”
“Uh-huh,” she responded, sounding unconvinced.
“I suppose it doesn’t matter now,” Jasper went on with a sigh. “We’re due for the dawn’s blood ritual in the morning. It sounds like such a lovely way to go.”
Silence once again fell upon their little cell. The mirth they had felt was dashed almost instantly.
Camdyn shifted against his chains, trying vainly to work the cramps out of his muscles. Jasper’s words struck a chord within him. Somehow, hearing their fate out loud stoked a fire in his belly. This was not how he pictured himself dying; he was a soldier at heart – he was meant to perish on the battlefield, not chained at the hands of madmen. Why are you giving up so easily? he asked himself bitterly. Where is your will to fight?
After a moment, he turned his head in the direction of Jasper’s voice. “Assassin, did the cultists remove all your weapons?”
Jasper snorted. “You yourself saw that they did.”
“All of them?” Camdyn pressed. “Even the little blades you keep stashed all over your body?”
He thought for a moment before answering. “I think they might have missed the one in my boot heel. Not a very practical weapon, I’ve never used it before in a fight.”
“It’s better than nothing,” Camdyn offered. Then, with no response from his companions, he went on. “When I was on campaign in Vjolstek, we took a chieftain and his tribesman prisoner. They were due for execution in the morning, but when we went to their cages the next day, we found they had escaped. When one of the unconscious guards woke up, he told us that the barbarians had deceived them by pretending that their chieftain was ill.”
After a brief pause, Razja spoke up. “That... doesn’t sound like the most foolproof plan.”
“It’s downright idiotic,” Jasper agreed.
“It doesn’t matter,” Camdyn insisted. “The point is that it worked. We didn’t post a sufficient number of guards, and they had assumed that the barbarians were beaten down. They underestimated them, and I think that the same thing could work for us.”
“Did the barbarians get away?”
Camdyn shrugged against his bonds sheepishly. “Well... no. We rode them down with our horses. But that’s not the point! Remember what the red priest said – most of their group has probably already left for that Dragon Pit. If we can get out, we’ll likely have a clean break!”
He could sense that the others were skeptical, and that made him angry.
“Come on!” he growled, rattling his chains. “They’re going to kill us anyway. What do we have to lose? Would you rather be slaughtered like lambs, or would you rather go down fighting?”
Again, there was a pause. They seemed to be considering his words. Finally, Jasper spoke up, his voice derisive but also thoughtful. “Then what do you propose we do? We are bound in in chains and only have a boot knife between us.”
Camdyn grinned determinedly in the dark. “I think I have an idea.”
Chapter Fifteen
When the guards came, the prisoners were ready for them.
Torchlight spilled into the cell as they pushed open the door, partially blinding Camdyn and the others as they hung against the far wall. Blinking furiously, the sellsword readied himself for what was to come, his heart pounding like a war drum in his chest.
This is our only chance, he thought, taking a deep breath. Better not mess it up.
“Rise and shine,” one of the guards sneered as he approached them, torch held aloft. “It’s time to head back upstairs. You lot have an appointment you’ll not want to miss.”
The other three men snickered at his jibe as they moved forward to pull their chains off the wall. Camdyn’s arms fell limply to his side, and he nearly collapsed as he was finally given freedom of movement. The others reacted the same, Jasper letting out an audible sigh as he was finally allowed to lower his arms.
“Don’t try anything,” one of the guards growled as he placed a hand on the hilt of his sword. “I don’t care what the red priest says... if any one of you tries to escape, we’ll kill all three of you, ritual or no.”
Their hands and ankles were still shackled, which would have made it difficult to run away. Not that it mattered. The plan they had come up with did not involve them trying to outrun their captors.
One by one they were shoved out of the cell and out into the hall, their single file line flanked on all sides by the armed guards. Their torches lit the dank hallway, casting everything in a garish light, and the sound of their manacles scraping against the stone echoed seemed to echo throughout the entire ruined temple.
However, when they had gone no more than a dozen steps, Camdyn groaned and sank to his knees.
“What’s wrong with you?” one of the guards snarled, cuffing him on the back of the head.
The sellsword ignored the blow and instead doubled over, clutching at his stomach. “My insides are burning,” he moaned, face twisting in a rictus of agony. “It feels like I’ve been poisoned!”
“Get up!” the guard commanded, pulling three inches of his blade out of its scabbard in an attempt to be threatening.
Camdyn made an attempt to stand, but then stumbled and fell face-first onto the ground where he began to twitch violently.
Everyone in the narrow hall turned to look at him. Cursing, the guard who had stuck him knelt down to grab the back of his collar. “What in the hell...”
It was the last thing he ever said.
In a sudden burst of movement, Camdyn brought up his fist to connect with the guard’s jaw, his manacles wrapped around his knuckles to form a brutal metal ridge. Bone crunched and skin tore from the savage blow, knocking the poor wretch out, and Camdyn immediately pulled the man’s body over his own to protect him from any attacks that might come.
The other three guards cursed in unison and drew their blades, bearing down on where he lay on the ground.
Jasper, finding himself suddenly unguarded, stomped the heel of his boot and exposed a finger-length edge of steel. Twisting his body, the assassin executed a magnificent sideways kick, bringing the hidden blade up and into the side of one of the remaining guards and eliciting a scream of pain.
Camdyn pulled the sword out of the unconscious guard’s sheath and flung it at Jasper, then turned to avoid being skewered. The other two guards began stabbing through their companion’s body in an attempt to get at him.
Razja backed away from the fighting. She was untrained and did not want to get in the way.
Jasper yanked his boot out of the wounded guard’s side and quickly bent down, scooping up the sword Camdyn had thrown at him and falling into a defensive position. His hands were still bound, so his movements were limited, but at least now he stood a fighting chance.
“Assassin!” Camdyn shouted as a sword exploded through the now-dead guard’s chest and grazed his arm. “A little help!”
Jasper leapt into
action. Holding his weapon in both hands, he parried a clumsy attack from the guard he had kicked and opened his throat with a flick of the blade. Then, shoving past him, he rushed at the other two guards and forced them to stop stabbing at Camdyn, raining blow after blow on their heads.
They immediately fell back, slipping on the blood-slick stones as Jasper pressed his advantage.
Grunting, Camdyn shoved the body off of him and pushed himself to his feet, wiping warm blood from his eyes with the back of his hand. The guards had dropped their torches when the fighting began, and they now smoldered dimly on the ground.
Need a sword, Camdyn thought, staggering back to where the guard lay, gurgling from the wound in his neck. He pried the weapon free from the man’s grasp, then turned to aid Jasper, who was doing a remarkably good job of holding off both guards.
Together, they engaged the enemies in the narrow confines of the dank hallway, lashing out with desperate intensity. Steel rang in the damp air, the clangor reverberating loudly off the stones.
Camdyn managed to get a lucky jab at one of the guards, flaying open his thigh and causing him to stumble. Jasper finished the man off with a flourish, piercing his ring mail with a thrust and penetrating to his heart.
The last guard wavered as he stood before them, the tip of his sword shaking from fear. He was about to strike when a loud crack sounded and the man collapsed, his weapon falling from numb fingers.
Camdyn and Jasper both looked up to see Razja standing over the guard’s body, a heavy-looking rock clutched in both her hands.
“Good work,” Jasper said, nodding at her in approval.
She dropped the rock and bent to pick up one of the torches, revealing that her face had grown exceptionally pale. “We need to get out of here.”
Jasper nodded and picked up a torch as well.
Camdyn was completely drenched in blood. The guard he had used as a shield had been stabbed several times by his companions. The sticky gore did not bother him, though, as he was no stranger to battle. He lost count of all the times he had been soaked in the blood of other men. Setting his jaw, he readied his sword and led the way, continuing down the hall to where a cramped stairwell led up.
The red candles that had lined the halls before had all burned out, leaving a dark, abandoned ruin for them to climb through. Fortunately, they did not meet any resistance as they exited the stairwell and made their way toward the exit.
They found their gear piled haphazardly on a table in the main hall. Perhaps the ones who got us from our cell wanted to divvy it up amongst themselves? They discarded their stolen weapons and armed themselves with their own. Razja in particular looked relieved to have her bracers on once more.
The sun greeted them like an old friend when they finally emerged from the ancient temple, warmly caressing their faces from a mostly cloudless sky.
A quick glance told Camdyn that the camp had been mostly evacuated. None of the tents remained from the night before, and only a paltry force had been left behind to deal with the prisoners.
Five guards were lazing about on the grass outside the ruins, accompanied by a man in red robes who was different from the bearded priest from the night before. When they saw the trio step into the light, they jumped to their feet and began to shout, scrambling for their weapons.
“I think you have this one, sorceress,” Jasper said with a smirk. “Give them a taste of your magic.”
Razja crossed her forearms and surrounded herself with a radiant glow. “Gladly.”
As the guards rallied around their priest, bolts of white fire hailed upon them, arcing from Razja’s fingertips and falling in a loud and destructive torrent. The earth rent beneath the display, sending clods of dirt flying into the air, and whenever one of the projectiles struck flesh, it instantly detonated, exploding in a flash of light and a spray of blood.
Men screamed as the sorceress finished her terrible work, and when the dust settled, only soot and fragmented body parts remained.
“Damn,” Camdyn muttered as Razja lowered her arms. The nimbus around her faded, but she still seemed to radiate power.
“It is done,” she replied, looking exhausted but ultimately satisfied.
A moment of awed silence settled over them, but it was quickly interrupted by Jasper’s gruff voice.
“Come on, then,” he said, striding briskly past the crater. “It’s a long way back to civilization, and I want to get as far away from this place as possible before nightfall.”
“Wait!” Razja protested.
The assassin turned and arched an eyebrow at them.
“We’re not going back to civilization,” Camdyn explained. “We’re going to find this Dragon Pit. The red priest needs to be stopped before he can summon Draxxes.”
Razja nodded, her expression grim.
“Not this again,” Jasper snapped, heat entering his voice. “Didn’t you two learn anything? Your do-good attitude is what got us captured in the first place! We lost, plain and simple. Now it’s time to go home and enjoy life before the end of the world.”
Anger began to boil in Cam’s veins. He was about to step forward and shout a retort when Razja’s upraised hand stopped him.
Calmly, she turned to regard Jasper, her face an expressionless mask. “Then go, Jasper Aurelio. We will not stop you. The two of us, however, will continue on and do everything we can to stop this calamity from occurring. It is our duty. If we flee and the world should end, then it will be our fault. I would rather die fighting than live a little longer as a coward.”
Jasper glared at her. “I am not a coward.”
“Nor are you a monster,” she answered curtly. “You’ve done terrible things, but there is good in you, Jasper Aurelio. I have seen it. This is your chance to finally redeem your soul.”
With that, she turned away from him and began walking toward the crumbling outer walls. Ten horses were hitched there, and it looked like they were loaded with supplies.
After giving Jasper one long, baleful look, Camdyn went after her, his stomach grumbling from lack of food.
For an instant, he thought that the assassin actually meant to part ways with them. But after moment, Jasper spat a long and vile stream of curses and followed them, his face a deep frown. “I hope the world does end,” he grumbled as he approached one of the horses. “Then I won’t need to suffer any more guilt-inducing speeches.”
Camdyn began rifling through the saddlebags, searching for food. When he looked up, it seemed that Razja was suppressing a smile.
Mad sorceress, he thought, shoving a dry biscuit into his mouth. Only a magic user could keep this motley crew together.
Part 3
Razja Kadir
Chapter Sixteen
A warm breeze sighed through the mountain pass, blowing from the arid eastern lands and into the cold green country behind them. It rustled the needles of the tall trees and disturbed a nearby lake, causing the water to ripple in dazzling patterns beneath the half-hidden sun.
Razja sat atop one of the stolen horses, her back straight as she let the breeze wash over her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath of the fragrant air. It was a welcome change from the constant rain of the western kingdoms. For the first time in weeks she actually felt warm, the golden sun radiating the skies above as it fought against the scattered clouds.
For her, it felt like she was coming home.
But I can never truly go home, she lamented, opening her eyes and beholding the mountainous land around her. If I step foot in Kaarna, the Maj’Kaalif will kill me and leave my remains for the vultures.
It was a troubling thought, but fortunately, their little band was not going southeast to her desert homeland. They seemed to be heading northeast, to the forbidden realm of Deadlands Afar.
“These cultists don’t seem to be concerned about anyone following them,” Camdyn observed for perhaps the twentieth time since they had left the ruins. “A blind dog could follow the trail they’ve left!”
; “Dogs don’t track by sight,” Jasper noted from behind. “They track by smell.”
The big warrior shrugged. “Whatever. I still find it strange that the red priest isn’t at least trying to cover up his tracks. It’s like he’s asking to be followed.”
“Perhaps he simply doesn’t have anything to fear,” Razja wondered aloud. “After all, he does have an army protecting him.”
“Army or no, the wilds are a dangerous place,” Camdyn insisted. “Manticores and lizard lions prowl the deserts, and roving war bands from outer Kaarna raid the Eternal Plains. Perhaps we should pray that they’ll do our work for us.”
“If only we should be so lucky,” Jasper remarked wistfully.
They continued on for the rest of the day, following the winding mountain roads until the sun began to set. When it became too dark to ride, they set up camp just off the road and rested until dawn. It was anything but comfortable, but each of them managed to steal at least a few hours of sleep before it came time for them to resume their trek.
Razja spent most of her time in the saddle thinking on the strange turn her life had taken since succumbing to the visions the Wanderer had sent her. Ever since she stole the ruby from the Tower of Amun’Dar, she had been on the run, traveling from one waypoint to the next without friends or family to comfort her.
These two have become something resembling friends, she thought, glancing over at her two companions. Camdyn rode at the front, eyes scanning the trees and the path ahead, always looking for danger. Jasper looked bored atop his horse, a small knife in his hands as he lazily trimmed his fingernails. Razja smiled. Well, maybe not friends. But after everything, I think I actually trust them.
It was a comforting thought, especially considering the danger that they all faced.
They kept an easy pace, following the trail left by the dragon cultists without trying to overtake them. Without a plan, they would likely ride right to their deaths if they caught up with the army, so they made sure to keep a safe distance behind their scouts, if they had any.
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