by Paul Yoder
Groping around, she felt what she knew to be the camel’s assorted pouches and bags with their belongings.
She searched for the head but instead felt something wet and sharp. Bringing up her hand to her face, she saw that blood now heavily coated her hand.
Must have broken its neck in the fall, she thought, wiping her bloodied hand on the nape of the camel’s thick coat.
In need of light badly, she fumbled around with the saddle bags that lay slumped over the camel’s back. Unlatching the pouches that she could get to, she felt for the torches in the dark of the cavern.
Pausing a moment, a thought coming to her, she hurriedly slipped a hand in a side pouch on her carry sack strapped to her back, pulling out Isis’ ring and put it on.
The phosphorescent teal mist instantly flowed from the ring, penetrating through the dust cloud, expanding out through the tunneled-out room, outlining the walls and flowing deep into numerous tunnels that entered into the cavity she was now in.
Looking down to the pack, she began the search anew, this time looking for rope. Flipping open a pouch, she grabbed the coil of rope that had a grappling hook attached to it. Holding it up, she started to scan the room again to look for Cavok.
She spotted him on the far side of the cavern, standing with sword out in front of him. It appeared as though he was facing a foe, but she saw no immediate threat.
The camel lifted high into the air, straps catching momentarily on her armor, sending her rolling backwards. She turned to see the camel lifted in the air, bringing up her arm just in time to shield her face from a spray of gore as something crunched down into the midsection of the camel. The massive pressure of the maw that held the camel aloft sent innards spraying forth from punctures in the camel’s stomach, a red mist now hanging in the air as a moist stench blew over her.
With the camel rent in two, the hindquarters were drug off, leaving Reza reeling backwards away from the bloodbath in the dark.
Flinging entrails from her armor, standing up, she spotted Cavok again, this time making a sprint to him, knowing that if whatever so effortlessly severed the camel were to face him, even Cavok would stand little chance of defending against such a creature.
A bill, shovel-like and as large as Cavok himself, came out of the tunnel he stood in front of. The head of the worm writhed out in front of him, rearing up in the same fashion as that of a snake about to strike at its prey.
Cavok looked poised, ready to defend or dodge the attack, but out of a side tunnel came another worm head that Cavok didn’t see. It slithered along the ground, making its way to its unwitting prey.
Reza pulled out her seax mid sprint, leaping a dozen paces in a single bound, coming down hard on the worm, blade sinking as deeply as it could.
The worm’s death throes were instant, and Reza barely got her blade out in time before being launched off right into Cavok, sending them both crashing to the ground just as the reared worm that had been studying him came crashing down where he had just been standing.
Seeing that Reza hadn’t fully evaded the worm’s lunge, Cavok kicked the side of the worm’s head, shoving the massive cord of muscle over just enough for Reza to crawl up from being pinched under it.
Favoring her left leg which had been pinned under the multi-ton worm, she immediately began to stumble back over to the opening of the cavern, unslinging her rope from around her shoulder. With a grunt, she tossed the coil up and over the roof of the cavern, onto the surface. Waiting for a moment to make sure the rope didn’t tumble back into the hole, she turned to check on the worm and Cavok, realizing she had dropped her seax over by the two in the aftermath of the collision.
Cavok was hacking violently at the base of the worm’s head with his massive greatsword, the worm frantically attempting to recoil back into its tunnel, rearing up one last time to try to maneuver itself backwards.
Cavok, with a final furious cleave, severed most of the core of the thick worm’s neck, leaving the head to slough off to the cave’s floor from its own dead weight. The body of the worm thrashed about, still attached to its limp head by a few flaps of skin and tissue.
Reza, seeing the ferocity of the bloodied man, heaving, eagerly looking for the next fight with only death in his eyes, hesitated for a moment.
A glint of steel shown to the right of Cavok. Charging over to recover her dropped blade, she snatched it up and looked back to the entrance to find more waste worms entering the cave from the tunnels to the rear of the room.
“Cavok, away from the walls. We take them as they come. Take care of the right flank,” Reza ordered, unlatching her flail from the back of her belt, holding it in her right hand with her seax in her left.
The order appeared to sink in past Cavok’s frenzied state of mind enough for him to give a nod of understanding Reza’s way before turning, with sword feverously gripped in both hands, teeth grinding in anticipation of the upcoming slaughter.
As the dust finally settled enough for Reza, even without the aid of Isis’ ring, to see clearly the horde of thirty-foot long worms making their way to the two small trespassers, she noticed a silhouette above the rim of the cave’s ceiling, tossing a bottle down into the midst of the worm horde.
An explosion, twice as potent as the one that had blasted her down in the crypt ruins, erupted in the center of the mass of squirming carapace. The thin cave roof shuttered and threatened to break apart atop them even as hunks of husk flew out from the epicenter of the blast, bits slamming into Reza, knocking her back, forcing her to shield herself from the shrapnel.
Before she could look back at the damage done to the worms, another explosion, no less as powerful as the first, ripped into the horde once more, downing the worms closest to the blast, the rest of the worms scattering, wriggling back into the tunnels they had just come out of in search for food.
A rope was tossed down over the ledge, the end of it landing on top of one of the half blown-apart worm carcasses. Looking over, Reza thankfully saw that the blasts had snapped Cavok out of his crazed state, latching his greatsword into its harness on his back, jogging over to Reza’s side.
“Too many in the shadows, we need to leave?” he said, reaching to aid Reza, seeing that she now favored a leg. Reza waved his offer off with a held up palm.
“You climb that rope out of here. I’ll check to see if we can salvage anything from our camel. It was carrying a lot of our gear. Go. I’ll meet you at the top.”
Without hesitation, Cavok jogged off, leapt onto the worm carcass, and started climbing the rope out of the cave.
Reza, still with her illuminating ring on, headed over to the mess that was the tangle of dead worms. Tens of thousands of pounds of worm flesh littered the room, and after a minute of searching hopelessly for the half of the camel’s body that hadn’t been taken back into the tunnels to be consumed, she made her way to the rope.
Looking around from her vantage point atop the downed worm, she still could spot no camel half, but a sound echoing from the tunnels behind her caused her to turn around, spotting the slithering mass of another worm working through the labyrinthine tunnel system that riddled the ground around them.
She knew her window to find what she looked for was over. Taking off her ring, she slipped it back into her back pouch. Tugging on the rope to make sure whoever was holding it for her topside was ready for her weight, she began climbing up and over the crest of the cave roof.
A large arm grabbed her by the back of her armor and hefted her up and over the sandy rim. Cavok led her over to the bank of the sand dune and sat her down, taking a seat next to her himself, letting out a large breath.
Slick with worm blood covering every inch of her armor, Reza, after catching her breath a bit, could see the concerned look in everyone’s expression, besides Cavok, who wore a large grin over the victory and excitement of the worm encounter.
“Hope you enjoyed yourself. We just lost most of our gear,” Reza said to Cavok,
laying back on her bed of sand, closing her eyes to consider how they were going to get by without their supplies.
13
The Little Farmhouse
The night had been a long one for them all. Two in the group had stayed up on a rotating watch the whole night through and the sound of the feasting of the worms on their own fallen kind did little to ease anyone’s nerves.
Bede had attempted to get Reza not to take part in the night watch, but she had refused, busying herself with the task of assessing what was left of their inventory.
They had lost a great deal of gear with the camel’s loss. All of the group’s combined foodstuffs and most of their water had been lost, all of their bedding and tent canvasing was gone, cooking gear, tools, city maps, notes, most of their rope, candles, torches, and an assortment of odds and ends now probably all resided in the belly of a worm.
The rest of the group had woken up with the rise of the sun to find that Fin and Cavok had cleverly fished out a large chunk of worm meat from the feeding frenzy in the cave along with a bundle of wood. They had started a small campfire, cooking chunks of worm meat spread out all around the borders of the fire, placing the flesh atop overturned husk to keep the meat out of the sand since they had lost their roasting spit with the rest of their gear.
Breakfast had not been a pleasant experience. Not only was the worm meat beyond chewy, but Reza’s foul mood from the previous day’s events only worsened as she did her best to hide an injured knee while still covered in dried worm blood which was now chafing her beneath her armor and matting her hair.
The hike that day was savage. Reza pushed their pace harder than little Jadu’s legs could keep up with, Cavok having to shoulder the man as he had the previous day. Even with Bede trailing slightly behind, Reza insisted on keeping the trail without breaks.
Breaking camp early that morning and double-timing their journey had landed them shortly after midday on the last of the large dunes before the desert flatlands that stretched out for a few miles, putting the dark city of Brigganden and its sprawling rural shanty districts outside of the city gates into view.
The city was too far away to determine anything about the state of the place, but some of the shanty homes and croplands stretched out closer to them, and from what they could see from their vantage point, disheartened them.
Pastures were littered with numerous carcasses of all manner of livestock. A few fields and buildings had been scorched to the ground. Upon the long stretch of dry farmland that reached out to the horizon line of the vast plains that lay between Fort Wellspring and Brigganden’s great city gates was a scene of rot and ruin.
Along the highway lay a grouping of bodies, a few horses mixed with a large number of humans, lying in the scorching sun, still and lifeless around four large wagons.
“A caravan. Perhaps that’s our opportunity to resupply on some of our lost gear,” Reza said while turning her waterskin upside down to confirm it was dry, an action she had subconsciously performed twice earlier that hour.
“We’ll need water and food before the night comes on—”
Halting her thought, Fin held up a strip of rubbery worm jerky in front of her face. Shoving the detestable meat away from her, she continued with what she was saying.
“After we secure food and drink, we need to see about shelter. A good option may be one of those farmhouses or a hut in the inner shanties. There we can get some good rest and plan how we’re going to infiltrate the city on the morrow.”
“Do you want me to go alone to see what I can scavenge from the caravan?” Fin asked.
“It’s far enough away from the city and close enough to us that I don’t think we’d be risking too much just hitting it on our way to the farmlands,” Reza replied, already starting down the last sand dune on her way to the caravan a mile into the open plains.
Reza increased their pace now that they were on flat, solid ground, and though the group was worn out from the light sleep they got the night before coupled with the torturous pace Reza had held them to that morning, seeing their destination helped keep complaints at bay as they hastily jogged the last mile to the caravan.
Wind blew in powerful, sporadic gusts, almost toppling Jadu off of Cavok’s shoulder once or twice, forcing Cavok to put Jadu down to tough out the last stretch of their march on his own.
As they neared the open grave that was the slaughtered caravan, a lingering, rotting smell gusted their way; and though it was a noticeable smell, it was not overwhelming as it would have been if the slaughter had been more recent.
“Check the wagons for food or drink,” Reza said, jumping into the closest one, leaving the other three to the rest of the group to inspect.
Nomad split off and headed for the far-right stagecoach as Jadu, Bede, Fin, and Cavok went for the other two wagons.
Opening the large coach door provided a view to the horror story written in crusted blood all over the interior of the coach.
A mummified leg slid and fell out on Nomad, causing him to back up slightly, hesitating a moment before hopping up on the step to get a better view of exactly what was in the coach.
Curtains over the window had been clawed at and the window frames on the other side of the coach were splintered and broken. It looked as though something, or someone, had gained entrance to the coach by brutal force.
Body parts were scattered across the upholstery, bloody trails and handprints decorating the seats, floor, and walls in horrid abundance. How many bodies did it take to so fully coat the space, Nomad didn’t know, but the amount of blood spilled there seemed to suggest more than one.
Seeing nothing more than blood and parts of people, he jumped down off of the coach and returned to Reza, who was throwing sacks of something out of the interior of her wagon.
“Nomad, take a bag of the flour and one of the rice. I’ll carry the two bags of oats. Everything else in here looks spoiled.”
Hefting the rice and flour, Nomad waited for Reza to jump out of the wagon with her oats before heading over to Bede and Jadu who had just finished picking through the contents of their wagon.
“Flint and steel, a few blankets, a lantern, a few candles, some soap and clean rags, cutlery knives, and a crowbar. Nothing else is of value to us or is bloodied and ruined,” Bede said, getting out of the wagon with all the gear they found, smiling as she helped Jadu down after her.
“Good. We can use that stuff. Let’s go check on Fin and Cavok and then get out of here. I don’t want to spend more time than we need to out in the open on the highway like this,” Reza said, corralling everyone to the last wagon.
They came around the side of the wagon to find Fin counting strips of gold from a purse, cinching up the drawstrings, looking up to find Reza who wore a disapproving look.
Seeing that looks weren’t enough to deter Fin, Reza issued in a stern voice, “We don’t steal from the dead.”
Arching one eyebrow, holding up his newly acquired purse, Fin replied, “Then why are we here? Looks like you had a good haul. How is what you’re doing any different than this?”
“We need food and supplies. Oats and rice isn’t going to do them any good, but it’ll save our lives,” Reza shot back, wanting to say more, but stopping with that.
“Gold isn’t going to do them any good either,” Fin said, tucking the sack in his carrying bag, done with the conversation.
Reza’s scowl was lost on Fin who had moved on to help Cavok unload a few bottles the large man had handed out of the wagon’s side.
Turning the bottles around so that he could see the labels on the front, Fin’s face lit up.
“Ah, a Bolionnay and a Zandival. Now those are some sweet wines. Hopefully the heat hasn’t spoiled them.”
Cavok handed Fin one more bottle of clear liquid with no label. Fin uncorked it and took a sniff.
“Whoa! That’s strong stuff, whatever it is. Maybe too strong to drink. You might could use this for treating
wounds, Bede. Why don’t you hold on to it.”
Jumping down out of the wagon, causing it to rock violently, Cavok held on his shoulder where he usually held Jadu, a small cask with a brass spigot on the end of it and a cork on top.
Uncorking the cask, Cavok took a long draw of the aroma, letting the smell linger in his sinuses for a moment before casually proclaiming that it was old ale.
The discovery of alcohol had not improved Reza’s scowl, but with both men ignoring the wicked glare she issued at them, knowing she didn’t have time to argue the men’s priority in resupplying, she turned and started heading for the nearest farmstead, mumbling over her shoulder, “We need to get off the Highway. Keep an eye out for trouble and a farmhouse that will suit us.”
The whole group packed up and headed off the road through fields of golden hay, eventually leading them into a cow pasture filled with cattle carcasses, skipping over to a country road with a few farmhouses along it, most in disrepair, either scorched or windows and doors being broken down.
“Look. That one might do,” Fin said, pointing to a smaller farm cabin that didn’t bear any damage to its facade.
“Let’s check it out,” Reza nodded, leading the group down the long path from the main road to the farmhouse tucked back behind a long row of tall, scraggly cypress bushes.
Coming up to the front steps, Reza pointed to Fin and Nomad and curved her hand around her fist.
Fin saw it as a visual cue he apparently was familiar with, instantly trotting around the side of the building. Nomad followed behind, figuring she was asking them to flank around back as they inspected the front.
Fin quickly swept around the side of the house, ducking below the side windows, slinking up to the back door. Nomad positioned himself quietly beside Fin, waiting for him as he checked the door handle, finding it to be locked.
