Chapter 25: A Day of Reprieve
Inaya awoke the next morning to find Farmund exactly as they had left him. Still in full armour, soaked down to his skin from the rain and his brief foray into the river, he sat in the dirt and stared across at nothing. His hands rested on his knees. Inaya had momentary thoughts back to Shal and how her friend had much the same expressionless look, and thought on how the extremes of bliss and pain were in this sense strangely similar.
Farmund had lost much. What drifted down that river was his sole purpose. Edda’s protection was not just an intent, but a concept he had shaped his entire life around, ever since he joined the military at a young age. This was no small slip, but rather a complete, utter failure in that duty. She was not injured or sick, but wholly dead and gone. Through anguished eyes he watched her crash against the rocks, facedown in the water. His only point of relief was that she did not appear to suffer. He was spared the pain of hearing her call out for him, desperate, in agony, fearing for her life. Instead, he just watched her fade into the distance.
To Inaya, it was just another Vanda royal losing her life in a fit of arrogance. Yet, still, she felt a distant sense of sympathy for Farmund, both of them having lost a friend, but it was buried deep beneath the years of hatred she let fester within herself. She would not forget the men and women that had destroyed her world clad in much the same armour as him. It was for that reason she slept peacefully, and from the looks of it, the only one who had.
Alarik finally began to stir, but one look at him told her that he was in far rougher shape than the others. Deep circles pooled beneath bloodshot eyes, and he held an honest, pained expression. That, and a dreadful bruise along his jaw. His devotion to the cause bordered on zealotry, but that did not take away his intense level of care in his troops. Every single loss, of which now there were many, he felt on a personal level. These were not mere pieces to be moved across a board for him as so many military leaders treated the footsoldier, but rather saw them as true individuals under his care and attention. Inaya was unsure of the consequences for him upon his return to Vanda, assuming he made it - a prospect that looked more grim with every passing day. The navigator, the shaman and, while she hated thinking about it, Shalmanesser, were insignificant losses to the empire. A duchess, however, would cast a dark mark on his reputation.
She had passed by the dangling feet of those that had wronged Vanda in her travels in Theolar.
He was looking at her now. Not in a way that many men had looked at her, but in a way that seemed to size her up and see just how much she had left. Once, she would have thought he would have fallen over dead or been devoured by an animal by now, but there was something about the resolve of the man that left him seemingly indomitable. She nodded to him, letting him know she was ready. Inaya took notice that he did not look for a similar response from Farmund. He had tackled him in the water, preventing him from surely a foolhardy attempt at rescuing the wayward Edda. He did what captains do - make a decision in the moment that they believed was best, regardless of how the troops felt. It was the right call. However, when emotions come into play, not all see reason. There would be trouble on the horizon between the captain and his giant.
Inaya frowned and stared out towards the river. Suddenly, that prospect did not sound quite so appealing. If she lost one, it could be problematic. If she lost both, even if she returned home in one piece, which she was positive she could without having the rest of the crusade weigh her down, her only path remaining was to head to Vanderik territory. While her story of trials in the rainforest would be true, not everyone would believe that the Khorsuli had not taken her chances at revenge and slaughtered the crusaders one by one. With no one to vouch for her, she’d be as good as dead.
A prospect she met with growing indifference.
--
“Best get packing,” Alarik said, rousing himself from where he slept and stretching his aching back. He spoke to no one in particular; the entire morning was spent in uncomfortable silence, with Farmund staring into the rushing water with thoughts Alarik could only imagine. Tremendous circles were under his eyes, showing that he, too, had slept hardly at all through the night. “Inaya, do you have any experience with crossing rivers such as this? Born in Vanda, I haven’t-”
“We’re just going to move on, then?” Farmund said at last, the first words he’d spoken since the event. His mouth felt dry and his throat sounded pained.
Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
Alarik sighed deeply and pursed his lips. He put down the belongings he was packing, noticing that it felt lighter than ever before. Sitting on the soft dirt, made even softer by last night’s heavy rain, he looked over towards the broken giant. “I’m sorry, Farmund. But we have a task-”
“I had a task as well,” Farmund interrupted. “That task is done now. I have no intention of crossing that river.”
Alarik nodded slowly, recognizing the delicate situation for what it was and doing his best to be as careful as he could with his words. “I know that you are hurting. But we are so close now. The empire has given us the mission of finding the route through this rainforest-”
“For what, exactly? Do we even so much as remember why we’re going through this rainforest?” Farmund’s voice was rising, the low tone reverberating through gritted teeth. “It’s for what - a potential trade route? Seeing if we can circumvent using the Osvuldur to reach the Rukara? We know this isn’t viable, and we knew that how early into this expedition? We could have gone home ages ago, when I made it clear to you the obvious choice was to return! How many of us would have been saved? Where… where would Edda be now?”
“I’m going to ignore that slight, and the shot to my jaw you gave me yesterday, because I know how lost you are right now. But you had best watch your tongue before you say something you regret,” Alarik warned while holding a finger up towards him. “I do not want to have to put in a negative report upon our return, and tarnish your good name.”
“A report?” Farmund repeated with a smirk. “A report to whom? To your superior on this expedition? Well, I regret to ‘report’ that she has just washed down the river. You may place your write-up in a sealed bottle and toss it in the water.”
“Do you think you’re the only one grieving? I have lost so many under my care through this crusade, Inaya has lost a dear friend, and now you’ve lost one as well. It’s joyless. It’s brutal. It’s…” It’s honour and glory in the Vanderik Empire. “It’s the work that we’ve signed ourselves up for. You’re crossing that damned river!”
Farmund stood up, his full, imposing height casting a shadow upon Alarik. “And how might you plan on making me do that?”
“You’re both fools,” Inaya said at last, still lying where she had taken her rest and hardly showing a care in the world. “Our good captain is so dedicated to completing the mission that he refuses to give up even when the purpose has passed. Our resident giant has lost all will to live seeing as the main purpose for his existence is… well, rest her soul. Look, Farmund - do you want to do something for her memory? Cross that river, finish the task we set out to complete, and return and sing her praises. Let her memory live on in the work she has achieved, something very few could have done. It’ll immortalise her in the eyes of her subjects. Alarik - give the man a day to grieve. Not everyone can readily accept being haunted by his demons at every waking hour like you can. A single day to relax, breathe some fresh air, rest our weary feet and catch fish from the river. It’ll do us all some good.” Her head dipped backwards and she looked up at the clouds. For a moment she felt like Shal; acting in calm, easy self-preservation.
The tempers still flared, but her speech managed to ease them both. She was glad for it. Her life depended upon them both, and she still had plenty of scores to settle with the Vanderik. As she had said from the beginning, to help them a little in order to hurt them a lot was worth it in the long term, and her continuing to live on and profit from these people had to be cause enough to push on. She’d bleed them dry someday, but only if she can prevent herself from bleeding out first.
Alarik ran his hand through his greying hair, finding a few wispy strands clinging to his fingers. “I apologise, Farmund. I could see little beyond this river. I just... I do care for my troops, and I hope you acknowledge that I’ve shown that thus far. All of my troops, and Edda, if you count her as that.” His tone took on greater seriousness. “But I cannot have you disrespecting me as you have. I’ve been generous in the patience I’ve shown you thus far. I believe in you. Don’t make me regret that.”
Farmund, to his credit, nodded in acceptance.
“Safe to say you’re accepting of my terms?” Inaya asked.
“I believe I am,” Alarik responded. He began to pick up the thin branches he had found earlier that would serve as potential fishing rods. “You’re both welcome to go fishing today. I think we could all use a break and some food in our bellies.” And then we cross that river, Alarik thought. All this, for a trade route they won’t use. But that’s what Vanda wants. A pointless venture full of death. Honour and glory in the Vanderik Empire. “It’ll be a better day today,” he added cheerily.