Chapter 231: The Right Call?
My question hung in the air. “Your voice sounds familiar. I remember you—but I forgot your name,” Helena finally said with trepidation.
“Really?” I said in disbelief, a little hurt echoing in my voice. “Well, I guess I was the one who was always talking, so it is understandable. I see you became a legionnaire like you wanted.”
“And you became a Hound,” she said with some vitriol. “Are my companions dead?” Did she think I was gloating by talking to her? That was not my intention.
I looked over at the other legionnaire. I couldn’t lie as the blood flowed freely from the shoulder wound and her missing hand; her heart was still pumping out blood. “The other legionnaire will be dead soon. The mage has been incapacitated but still breathes. She surprised me with her invisibility and almost got me.” Okay, it did sound like I was gloating.
“Sylph is dead?” Hearing the pained emotion in her voice and knowing the other legionnaire’s name made me twinge with guilt. They were clearly close, either friends or lovers. Helena seemed to deflate, facing the inevitable, and she stopped trying to rub the film from her eyes. You really needed to use water. “If you are a Hound, why haven’t you killed Selene? Are you to bring Mage Selene back alive then?” There was some hope in her words that her charge might live, but she appeared resigned to her own fate.
I quickly turned over my response in my mind, needing to come to a decision. This all felt as wrong to my core as being sent to murder children in their sleep. I finally asked, to assuage my guilt, “I am curious. What did the mage do to become a traitor to the Empire?”
“Traitor!” She spat the word in disgust, anger flaring. “She was the one betrayed. She was told Orc Pathfinders killed her parents, and she was being sent to the war front to fight the Esenhem elves. She should have been raised to a baroness and taken over her family’s estate. Duke Octavian wants to control her family’s gold and silver mines.”
Her response made me pause. I felt like I owed Helena something for teaching and getting me through legionnaire training. Without her lessons, I might have fallen below the cut and been exiled to the regular army. I decided to try to convince her to flee and forget about the mage. But if I let Sylph die, her friend or lover, she might seek revenge against me in the future.
Now that Duke Octavian was brought into the equation, it gave me further pause. He was an enemy of Castile and, therefore, myself. I moved closer to Sylph to stop the wrist from bleeding further by wrapping it tightly. I continued the conversation as I worked. “There are Orc Pathfinders within the Empire. I have fought them.”
Helena laughed, her tone turning dark, “The Pathfinders only kill to achieve a purpose, Hound. You should know that. Baron and Baroness Greco had no value to the Boutan Caliphate. Duke Octavian wants to control the gold and silver mines on their lands, and First Citizen Selene is the only remaining Greco in the line of succession. He staged their murder, and you Hounds confirmed the farce.”
She spat on the ground. “Selene should be raised to Baroness and instead was being sent to fight the elves with just two legionnaires instead of her family’s entire household guard. She would have been dead within the week.”
I stood as the bleeding stopped, and the shoulder wound had clotted on its own. I could tell Helena believed what she was saying, and knowing Duke Octavian, it was probably the truth. I didn’t understand why the only remaining member of a family would be ordered to fight, especially a First Citizen. “If she is a First Citizen, how can she be forced to fight?”
“Where have you been, Hound?” Helena spat angrily, getting bolder as the conversation extended. “The elves have landed, and the Bartiradians are surging from the south toward Macha. They have formed an alliance to take the eastern Empire. The Emperor has ordered every battle-trained mage to the front!”
My mind raced, and I cursed Centurion Sergius for keeping me in the dark. “When did this happen?” I asked, puzzled.
“Seven…no, eight and a half days ago.” Helena relaxed her defensive stance and loosened her grip on her staff. I stepped back anyway, as she might be trying to lure me into a false sense of security.
“So, she is a traitor for fleeing the Empire in its hour of need,” I said evenly.
“What would you have done? If you buried your parents, and the next day, an appointed steward arrives to handle your estate while you are sent with just a fraction of your household guard to fight an elven invasion? Selene isn’t even a war mage. The only thing she has killed in her twenty-five years is a bottle of wine,” Helena said harshly.
I took the question seriously, formulating a truthful response. It was the politics of the Empire as I had come to know them. “I would have taken all my gold and fled the Empire.”
Helena grasped at the thread. “Is that what you want? The gold? We dropped our packs when we rushed you. There are three hundred in gold and silver and more in jewelry.” I stepped back to look, and with my night vision goggles, I could see the packs in the distance. I remembered the thuds before they rushed my position.
My mind played with options as my conscience battled itself. Finally, I pulled one of the paralytic arrows and shot Helena in the leg. She started cursing me, but the poison quickly silenced her to only gibberish as her muscles relaxed, and she could only gurgle her obscenities at me.
“When you wake up. I hope you can forgive me.” I bound, blindfolded, and gagged her while feeling the hatred pouring off her. I forced two oblivion pills down her throat to force her into unconsciousness.
I checked on Sylph. Barely alive and unconscious. I used the foul, simple orc potions to ensure the neck wound was closed and a second to reattach the hand, smearing the foul brew on the exposed flesh, then releasing the tourniquet. Cracking the seal had let the putrid odor permeate the air, and I didn’t think I would ever be able to consume this orc brew willingly.
The tendons and bone would need a mage or greater healing potion to make the hand functional again. I then bound, blindfolded, and gagged her as well after forcing two oblivion pills into her. Was I making a mistake? Before turning to my other problem, I took time to wash Helena’s eyes with cold water and used a third orc potion, pouring it on the arrow wound.
When I had enough aether, I pulled magebane from my space. I channeled aether into the blade, and the intricate relief work of spiders filled with the aether toxin. Even with her invisibility, I could clearly see the mage in my space. I removed First Citizen Selene, facing away from me. The mage was still invisible as I cut into her thigh. She squealed in pained surprise as she became visible with my goggles and collapsed holding the fresh wound.
I could tell the woman was reaching for her aether and was disoriented and confused when she couldn’t utilize it. The poison worked fast and made using aether like trying to sail a ship in a hurricane. Realizing the futility, she reached for her dagger, but I was already behind her, sweeping her legs, forcing her to the ground, and pinning her with my body weight. She cursed and struggled with futility as I bound, blindfolded, and gagged her. She didn’t give up; she continued to struggle, but it would do her no good. I then sat down and wrote in my notebook.
“I caught the mage, killed one legionnaire, and the other legionnaire fled. The First Citizen told me the elves have invaded. Should I bring her to you so she can be sent to fight the elves as intended?”
I wasn’t expecting a quick response, so I checked on Rusty and fed him while I waited for morning and a reply. The magebane toxin wore off in an hour, so I continued to dose her, not knowing what spell forms she had. Maybe the mage thought I was torturing her with the small cuts, but it couldn’t be helped until I made a final decision on her fate.
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I went through their three packs as I waited, keeping a close eye on my prisoners. Inside, I found some food, inadequate camping supplies, and a lot of coins—definitely more than three hundred gold. Finally, Centurion Sergius sent me a message.
“Excellent work, Hound. Kill her, and bring the traitor’s ring, amulet, and any other artifacts you found to Brapo. Hercule will take them from there to me.”
I watched as the words scrawled across the page, and when they stopped, I asked again, writing:
“Have the elves invaded? Should I pursue the other legionnaire?”
I didn’t have to wait long before he responded.
“Yes. The elves landed a week ago, and the Bartiradians surged across the eastern border. The Empire spent all winter preparing. They have not advanced far. Forget the legionnaire. She is of no consequence. Bring the artifacts and burn the mage’s body.”
I waited for more, frustrated, but no other words appeared on the page. I knew he wanted the body burned so he could confirm the death of the mage. Relief flooded me as I wouldn’t have to kill Helena or take her with me. Maybe I wouldn’t have to kill the mage either. I spent the morning setting up a pyre and started a fire to burn to just ashes. I searched Selene for artifacts, removing her ring, amulet, and a runic dagger.
My experienced eye told me the perfect gold ring was a dungeon artifact, but the amulet and dagger were artificed by hand. Selene struggled as I searched inside her clothes, but I was quick about it and only found a small secret purse with a few gold coins that I returned where I found it. “Don’t worry, Mage Selene. When you wake up again, all will be well. You will not be dining with Pluto today.” I forced two oblivion pills into her mouth and held her jaw closed until they dissolved and took effect.
I returned the sleeping Selene to my dimensional space, and I waited for an hour before I wrote in the message-sending book, “The mage has been burned. Nothing remains.”
A response came back immediately as he had clearly been waiting for my words, “Good work, Hound. Get the artifacts to Hercule.” So, my dimensional space did fool him. It was also clear that Helena was correct, and they only cared about the death of the last of the Greco line. I stepped on the coals and spread the ash while I waited for Helena and Sylph to wake.
It was midday when Helena woke first. She jolted awake, the blindfold and gag now gone. She took in her surroundings. Her legionnaire companion was on the ground, curled into a ball, and the clear pile of ash in the shape of a body was visible. “I am sorry, but I was ordered to burn the mage. I used alchemist’s flash powder, and she did not suffer.” I needed Helena to think the mage was dead in case a Truthseeker questioned her.
Helena’s face had sorrow, and her vision was fixed on her legionnaire companion. “Am I next, then?”
“No. I owe you for your past kindness. My name is Eryk,” I reminded Helena of my name since she had forgotten. I tossed one of the packs on the ground near her head. “Run, Helena. I was not ordered to kill the legionnaires. Get as far from the Empire as you can. I hear the capital of the Duchy of Manch is nice this time of year.” I stressed the location as that was where Castile and her loyal legionnaires were headed. Helena’s eyes held no love for me, but I hoped that would change once she freed herself and found her companion alive. I couldn’t risk having her know Mage Selene was alive, though.
Helena was not done with me. She needed to curse me one more time before I escaped earshot. “You killed good people, Eryk. Sylvia and Selene didn’t deserve to die for another man’s greed. The Empire is rotten and eating itself alive even as its enemies knock on its door.” I heard her spit in my direction but ignored it and focused on my task of getting Rusty ready. I told myself I couldn’t save everyone but could still try.
It would be three days of traveling north to reach Brapo, but it would also take me into the region where the owlbear had been attacked, so I would proceed cautiously.
My dimensional space was also getting crowded. Although I definitely had the free space, at this rate, I was becoming an ark for people who were supposed to be dead. Centurion Sergius might still have Selene’s sample in his blood compass as he had confirmed her death only a few hours ago, so she would be in residence for a while.
I swung up onto Rusty’s back and gave Helena some parting words. “Get your friend to a healer, but don’t get discovered.” Her head whipped to Sylvia, dumbfounded. I started trotting north, not looking back. I had no question that I had done the right thing, but it felt like I was cornering myself. What was I going to do? Put every innocent person I was ordered to kill in my dimensional space?
I took my time riding north, in no rush to reach Brapo. I camped in an ancient, overgrown stone structure. My earth speak told me the cellar had filled with debris over time. A modest stash of silver coins was down there, but I was not motivated to dig through a few feet of centuries-old detritus and it was just outside the range of my dimensional space. Rusty was happy to get a full meal of grain and apples as foraging for grass was limited. I was pretty low on horse grain and would have to get some from a village on the way.
At sunset, I had no messages from my Centurion and settled in for an uneasy night of short naps. I had gotten enough rest by midnight, and the dry, cold air made me use Raelia’s thermal stone for heat, which Rusty also appreciated, but he was not house-trained like Ginger, pissing voluminous urine in our shelter. When morning came, I found a disturbing new message in the book.
“The orc war fleet entered Kraken Bay last night. Race to your lookout and report their movements.”
My blood chilled a little. It was happening as many had predicted. The orcs were using the war in the east to press their claims here in the west. I started asking questions in the notebook. “How many ships? Is the Empire sending soldiers? Where are they landing?” No responses appeared on the pages, and I closed it in disgust. I was being kept in the dark, and it was a low priority for Sergius to keep a Hound sentry informed.
Kraken Bay is three hundred miles long from north to south, and a third that wide at some points. It is more like a massive inlet sea than a bay. At the very southern end of the bay, Varvao was the closest city. If the orcs were going to carve off a chunk of the Empire, that would be their target.
I had no illusions of being able to stop an armada. I rode northwest and was no longer headed for Brapo. I reached the coast, and thought I was south of my lookout. I camped in the rocky terrain, not risking an injury to Rusty in the dark. Neptune’s Tear was hidden behind the clouds this evening, and the ridgeline overlooking the bay was unforgiving. I turned the anchor stone in my hands again after sunset. Still nothing from Zyna. Reluctantly, I put the stone away.
I scanned the waters every hour and cursed when the specks of light in the distance confirmed the orc fleets' arrival far to the north. With my spyglass, I counted thirty-seven ships, but there could have been more. I scribbled in the notebook.
“Thirty-seven large ships sighted. All sailing south.”
It wasn’t until an hour after sunrise that my book had a response written in it.
“Follow and shadow the fleet and continue to report.”
That was it. I didn’t know how far south of my lookout I was but guessed about a dozen miles. The armada was bravely sailing through the center of the bay as if daring anyone to challenge it. I suspected the Empire had nothing to stop it. The high rocky ridge was too dangerous to ride along. So, I was going to have to descend into the forest, ride south, and then climb the ridgeline again to track them. The good thing was I could ride much faster than the fleet could sail.
I led Rusty down the slope, and we raced through the forest for three hours before climbing again. I was ahead of the fleet and scanned them again, trying to count them in the light of day. I didn’t have the spyglass stand, so it was difficult to hold steady to get an accurate count. I ended up with thirty-eight this time and wrote it in the message-sending book. I still had no more orders from the Centurion. I wondered what the Empire’s response to the orc armada was going to be.
We descended the slope again, and this time, I planned to run Rusty for only two hours before spotting the fleet again. Rusty sensed something was wrong long before I did. He slowed, resisting my urging to continue and dancing in place. He was trying to warn me of something. I didn’t see anything, so I dismounted to use earth speak.
As my feet hit the ground, I didn’t even need to use earth speak to feel the vibrations. My earth pulse returned a horrific image, and I rolled away, releasing the reins, and yelled, “Rusty, run!” Rusty couldn’t process the shouted command quickly enough as the earth softened under him and then erupted up under him.
A massive ant-like head seized his neck while massive arms ending in four dangerous claws racked his body. Rusty’s body was eviscerated, and his internals spread across the ground. The bipedal insect-like creature extracted itself from the ground while its jaws finished decapitating poor Rusty. It had been lying in wait nearby and moved under the ground to intercept us.
By the dangerous-looking claws, I assumed this was the creature that had forced the owlbear to flee its hibernation. What concerned me was in all the lessons from Hearne and all my bestiaries in my dreamscape; I still had no idea what I was facing. “Whatever you are, you are going to be dead soon for killing Rusty.” The ten-foot monstrosity turned to my voice, its bug-like eyes focused on me while its mandibles dripped with Rusty’s blood. Its mouth moved erratically as it pulled flesh and blood into its mouth. I pulled the black spear to my hand and announced, “Let’s dance, you overgrown cockroach.”
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