Chapter 8
“Are we going to run into any patrols?” Joff asked as the forest opened onto a broad plain.
“Normally, yes,” Eduard replied. “Now all the soldiers have gone north to deal with the Rephaim. They’ve been attacking Durnshire. Laird Tammer issued a general summons for help and the other lairds have all answered.”
“You mean they’ve stopped fighting each other?” Jain asked.
“It happens sometimes,” Eduard replied. “The whole point of The Holdings is that they help each other when something from outside attacks.”
“Glad to know it has a point,” Joff said doubtfully. “So why are the Rephaim attacking? Did Tammer do something to them?”
Eduard shook his head. “They kill just to kill. They were attacking the Adarans, but they were stopped but some wheeler named Kedrick, Klondike, something like that.”
Airk spat. “Just like the wheelers. Always dumping their problems on us. Can’t just leave us to our farms and our gods.”
Jain thought about what they had seen in Sorena. The Adarans were organized and well defended. Was it their fault if goblins and Rephaim preferred to attack scattered villages over throwing themselves against walled cities?
That night they camped next to a creek, the only place on the plain where trees grew and firewood could be found. Jain and Airk practiced their sword work with sticks while Eduard shouted directions. After a while Jain smacked Airk’s hand by accident. He cursed, shook his hand, and said he would have sit down for a bit.
Joff picked up a stick and took a sparring stance. Jain looked at him doubtfully. Then she swung. The stick caught only air and she felt a tap on her shoulder. Joff shrugged. Jain swung again, this time in a more controlled way. Joff stepped out of the way and tapped her forearm with his stick. They continued to spar for several minutes with consistent results. Joff’s breath came quicker and quicker and he finally waved and tossed his stick into the fire. He sat down and closed his eyes.
“How do you do that?” Eduard asked.
Joff spent some time catching his breath before he answered. “There was an instructor at the Academy. He was very old. He taught me to avoid an opponent’s swing rather than blocking it. He also taught be to attack lightly and go for the weak spots, rather than just hacking like you do.”
Eduard nodded his approval. “You can fight.”
“For a few minutes,” Joff replied.
“You think the Sword of Adara will heal you,” Airk said, still rubbing his hand.
“Legends say it will. Who knows.” Joff looked up at the stars. “To walk without getting winded, to handle a sword or a shovel for more than five minutes, just to live a normal life.” He shook his head. “And if it can make Coursa young again . . .”
“You really care about her,” Jain said.
Joff pulled the cat pendant from under his short and admired it.
“So,” Jain said. “You and Coursa are . . .”
“I will not discuss it,” Joff said sharply. He lay down and closed his eyes, ending the conversation.
The next day they reached small river village fortified with stone walls, pickets, and towers. Men fished from the river bank while others worked the fields closest to the walls. Beyond those fields men with spears patrolled on horseback. Two of them approached the company and intercepted them before the dirt track Eduard had been following turned into the more recognizable road to the gate.
“What’s your business in Dared?” the older of the two horsemen asked.
“Staying the night,” Eduard replied. “Stabling our horses. We’ll be moving on shortly.”
The spearman nodded. “You carry swords.”
“Yes,” Eduard confirmed. “There are rumors of Rephaim and goblins abroad.”
“Alright,” the horseman said. “Make trouble and we’ll mount your heads on spears. Proper clear?”
“Proper clear,” Eduard confirmed.
The dining room of the inn was dark. There were no windows on the first floor, presumably in case the goblins somehow breached the wall. The fireplace burned low in the warm afternoon and there were no candles or lanterns. It was just as well. The grimy feel of the table and the gritty taste of the food did not make any of them want to see anything better.
The innkeeper came over to take their plates and mugs. “Your rooms are upstairs. The horses have already been fed and watered. Will there be anything else?”
“Yes,” Eduard said. He laid two henries on the table. “We’re going away for a bit. We’ll be back.”
“You’ll be welcome when you come,” the innkeeper said, his eyes never leaving the coins.
“The horses will be staying. I’ll want them looked after, fed and walked.”
“You’re going . . .” The innkeeper trailed off and looked around abruptly. He leaned closer and whispered. “You’re going into the hills. Why would you do that?”
“Our business is our own,” Eduard whispered back. “I want our horses here and healthy when we get back. If they’re not then you’ll wish they were.”
The innkeeper snatched up the coins. “Of course, sir. They’ll be taken care of like the laird’s own.”
The next morning they went to the town market to buy food for the journey. A crowd had gathered around a large stone table in the center of the marketplace. Statues of a snarling figure with a head like a great lizard, wings like a bat, and the body of a very muscular man stood on either side of the table, looking down angrily at the man now chained there. Chains stretched out from his waist, his legs, his arms, his wrists, and his neck. He could no more sit or stand up than he could grow wings and fly away. The statues represented Kortas, God of justice and punishment.
A black robed augura stood over the chained man. Blue and orange paint traced a variety of geometric designs across her face. The bright colors made her dark eyes all the more piercing. She wore her brown hair short, presumably to keep it from getting in the way when she went about duties like this one. Smoke rose from a fire pit behind her where several men went about a variety of tasks, though none of the four visitors could see them very well for the smoke and the crowd.
“This man in convicted and condemned,” she said in a voice that echoed across the square. “He is a thief.”
“Not one of ours,” Eduard whispered in a voice that was meant to be reassuring but that set his companions on edge. A human was about to be sacrificed and all he could worry about was whether they had the same employer?
“Neither god nor laird tolerates such injustice,” the augura continued. “Kortas thirsts for the blood and souls of the deceitful, the murderous, the evil.” She drew a long knife with a serrated blade and pointed to the crowd with it. “Repent of your wickedness. Bow in loyalty to your lairds, both earthly and divine. Else be warned of what fate awaits. To each crime its own punishment.”
A man with a heavy axe stepped forward and stood over the thief. The condemned man whimpered, but did not try to speak. “Let the thieving hand be removed!” the augura cried.
The axe descended and took the man’s right hand at the wrist. He wailed and the crowd groaned. The axeman stepped back and a man with a hammer stepped forward. “Let the feet that led this man to mischief be broken!” the augura cried louder than before. The crunch of bone echoed across the square a moment later.
“This is sick,” Joff said. His complexion had turned paler than usual and taken on a greenish tint. “Let’s go.”
“No,” Eduard,” said firmly. “It would draw too much attention.”
“Let the arrogant mind be humbled!” the augura shrieked. The man with the hammer stepped back and a man carrying a pair of furnace tongs stepped forward. In the tongs he held a roughly made crown of steel, glowing red.
“No!” the thief screamed. He struggled, but the iron collar on his neck held him fast. The man with the tongs used them to push the crown onto the
thief’s head. Screams drowned out the sound of sizzling flesh but nothing contained the smell of burning skin and hair. A few of the people in the front of the crowd were sick from the odor. The augura stood still and calm while the thief screamed and screamed. Her expression was as unmoving as those of the statues and far less interested.
“That’s the punishment for rebellion, not thievery,” Eduard whispered.
“If he stole from a laird then it’s rebellion,” Joff explained. “Let’s just hope he didn’t steal from a temple, otherwise . . .”
The man screams had stopped. “Let the blasphemous tongue be split!” howled the augura. Two of the men pried the thief’s mouth open. The augura shoved the knife into his throat. He tried to scream but only gargled and began to choke on his own blood.
“What did he steal?” Eduard asked. The tone made the other three stare. Eduard was wondering what would be worth all this and how to get it.
“The laird’s golden idol of Dagda,” a woman in front of them said over her shoulder.
“Fool,” Eduard muttered. “Might as well kick the laird in the balls and spit on an augur.”
The thief choked and gagged on his own blood. The reactions were mostly involuntary now. If he could have talked he would have begged for death. The augura raised her bloody knife high over her head. “Let the offending life end!” The knife descended hard into the thief’s stomach near his waist. The augura moved the knife in a sawing motion all the way up to his sternum. Then, with a flick of her knife, she threw his guts out onto the table. She wiped the knife on a cloth and looked at the cloth. Based on the blood markings she loudly announced her predictions of a good harvest and a bad winter.
The crowd broke up after that. The four visitors bought their provisions and left town before anyone had a chance to accuse them of anything. They had all seen the justice of Kortas before, but that did not make it any easier to witness.
Thoughts of his own reckoning with the laird filled Airk’s mind. He kept them to himself for fear of weeping if he tried to say anything. Jain wished he would talk, if only to distract her. Some part of her had known what punishment awaited her crimes even as she was committing them, but she had managed to push it aside and get on with life. Now she could not help but wonder how long she would be able to stay ahead of the law.
Eduard wondered if he would ever be captured, and if his grandmother would be able to protect him when it happened.
Simple defeat best described Joff’s view of the situation. He could not defy Coursa, but that would not save him if he was caught on this errand or any other that Coursa might have for him in the future. Reading an Adaran text could be punished by having his eyes gouged out. That did not include his failure to turn Coursa’s family in or his helping them in their quest for more contraband. The others wondered how long they could stay ahead of the law once someone in power learned of their activities. Joff suffered no such concern. He could not run. The day of discovery would be the day of his death.
A narrow wooden bridge stretched across the river. Two guards stood on the village side. “State your business,” one of them said.
“We’re going goblin hunting,” Eduard said.
“No bounty for that anymore,” the guard who had spoken before said. “Not since the laird’s son died.”
“Call it a bit of sport,” Eduard said.
The talkative guard leaned against the rail of the bridge. “You sure you’re not running from something?”
“Yeah, we’re sure,” Eduard replied.
“I think he’s lying,” the guard who had been quiet said. “I think there’s an augur or a laird who’s got a grudge against this lot. They’re gonna try to make a run through the hills.”
Eduard cringed.
“Our horses are at the inn,” Joff said. “We paid for them to be stabled while we’re in the hills. That fat innkeeper took two henries. That’s on top of what he charged for bad ale and a filthy room.”
“Well, they’re honest about the inn,” the guard who spoken first said.
The other one turned and spat into the river. “Let them go. They won’t make it through the hills anyway.”
Eduard, Jain, and Airk started across the bridge. Joff paused. “Why is there a bridge here, anyway?” he asked the guard who had spat.
The guard looked at him. “Bit thin for an adventurer, aren’t you? Never mind it. The lairds had a mind to take the hills for a bit. They sent men into the hills. There was even a settlement.”
Joff leaned against the railing and took a breath. “But all that’s done. The settlement burned, the soldiers don’t go anymore. Why’s there still a bridge here?”
The guard shrugged. “No one ever ordered it torn down. Are you alright?”
Joff nodded and took another breath. “Thanks. See you in a few days.” The others waited for Joff at the other end of the bridge. When he caught up with them they started up the nearest hill. Eduard led them over the summit and stopped when they were out of sight of the village.
“So where are we going?” Eduard asked.
Joff knelt and removed his pack. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before he reached in and pulled out the book.
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Airk asked.
“Find what you need in the book,” Eduard said. “The rest of us’ll split up your things and carry them for you.”
“I’m not a mule,” Jain protested.
“Carry his things, or carry him,” Eduard snapped. “He’s not strong enough.”
They split up Joff’s food, change of clothes, water skin, and blanket while he leafed through the journal. Airk took a little more than his share. Joff put the book back into the pack and stood.
“There.” He pointed to a mountain in the distance. “The battle was there, at the foot of the Horn of Dasmin. The journal gives directions from there. We can find our way.”
“That’s at least a two day hike,” Eduard said. “Are you sure it’s the right place?”
“Ummm . . . Reasonably.”
Eduard grumbled and shouldered his pack. The four of them set out for the mountain. Every now and then a rabbit perked up at their approach and bounded away. Trees grew thick in the valleys between the hills. Plumes of smoke rose from various spots in the distance, marking the locations of goblin camps and their fires. The goblins built their camps in the valleys which made the camps difficult to find and the goblins’ numbers impossible to guess. As Eduard and the others walked they saw tracks and the occasional broken tool but no actual goblins. Jain asked about this.
“The goblins don’t like to be seen,” Joff replied. “They fight among themselves when they aren’t fighting us. They rely on ambush and on isolating individuals and small groups. Their preferred weapons are . . .”
“We don’t need their whole history,” Eduard interrupted. “We won’t see them if they don’t want us to. Got it.”
Joff looked down. Jain felt sorry for him, but not so sorry that she would encourage him to continue his rambling. They continued on for a few more hours before they came to a valley where many of the trees had been cut down and a circle of scorched rocks marked a firepit. Eduard said it was an abandoned goblin camp.
They pressed on until dusk. Everything was peaceful but for the scurrying of rabbits and the startled flights of birds as they approached. Once a bird flew up from some distance behind them. They made camp in the shelter of a small an apparently uninhabited valley. Jain and Airk went about setting up camp. Joff collapsed into a sitting position and began to draw deep, ragged breaths. Eduard looked around and paced up and down the hill. “Problems?” Joff eventually managed to ask.
“We’re being watched and followed,” Eduard replied.
Joff took a deep breath and as he exhaled, said, “How can you tell?”
“Animals startle when things approach. Birds and rabbits have been running
from us all day. But some things have startled behind us.”
“Airk saw some berry bushes down the hill,” Jain called from lower on the slope. “We’re going to go collect some.”
“Don’t wander too far,” Eduard called back. “And keep your wits about you. There could be goblins about.” Jain turned and started down the slope to where Airk already was. Eduard smiled as he watched the sway of her hips. To Joff, he said, “I hate to see her go, but I love to watch her walk away.”
Joff smiled. “Yep. That’s how I feel about . . .” They looked at each other and silence stretched out between them. Eduard managed a grin. “What a world,” Joff said. “Is there anything I can be doing?”
“No,” Eduard said firmly. “Rest. We’ll need you to do what you can if the goblins attack. Are you going to be fit to travel tomorrow?”
An asthmatic chuckle shook Joff’s frail chest. “I wasn’t fit to travel this morning. I’ll manage tomorrow.”
Eduard gave Joff a skeptical look and shook his head. The ate a meal of bread and berries around their small campfire. Eduard said he would take the first watch, followed by Airk, followed by Jain.
“Aren’t you forgetting someone?” Jain asked.
“There’s no reason I can’t keep watch,” Joff agreed. “My eyes work . . .”
“No,” Eduard said firmly. “He tires easily on a good night’s sleep. I don’t want him collapsing at noon.”
“Look, let’s just split the watches evenly,” Joff began.
“Go to sleep!” Eduard barked. “You’re here to tell us where to find the loot, not to tell me how to run a camp.”
“I’ll just go to sleep now,” Joff said.
Jain watched him roll out his blanket. He had been bullied by her and Airk, by Coursa, and now by Eduard. Joff was quite good with a sword but all an opponent would have to do was fight defensively for a few minutes while he tired out. Jain doubted if he could handle himself in a fistfight. He was too scrawny to manage a decent punch and Jain doubted if he could overpower Coursa, let alone a healthy man like Eduard.
“Mind those eyes,” Joff said softly. “I’d hate for Airk to get jealous.”
“What would you do if you were healthy? Would you be a farmer, or a warrior, or what?”
Joff lay down on the blanket and pulled it around him. His expression was one of utter exhaustion and his voice was strained. “I don’t know. I got sick when I was a boy. I don’t know what I’m good at or what I like.”
Jain smiled. “You like Coursa.”
“I’ve never met anyone like her. I don’t think I admire you much more than you do, though.”
“I miss my mother and I always admired her. But Coursa is so free, so strong.”
Joff chuckled. “Yeah. How’s your jaw?”
“It’s fine,” Jain replied and she rubbed the bruise.
Joff rolled on his side so that he faced her. “And Airk’s balls?”
Jain bit her lower lip. After a moment she said, “The swelling wasn’t too bad. He’s okay. Anyway, she’s strong and free. She seduces whatever men she desires. She has no fear. She has no shame.”
“Yeah,” Joff agreed. “You have no idea.” Crude as the statement was, it was said so lovingly and with such good humor that Jain could not help but laugh with him.