Harvey Logan

Despite Harvey Logan’s stumbles, the rhino and monkey didn’t lessen the distance – roughly thirty, thirty-five paces behind him. The god’s cursed valley must have been endless. It meandered like a snake, occasionally widening, opening a rift in that cursed canopy above his head, offering for a change, a clouded sky. As he waded through the high fern. His passage – save for the bloodlust-soaked rhino and suspiciously entertained monkeys – has gone without much excitement. An occasional roar or growl or sudden movements to either side made his blood thin, though. At least the trail left by Siddy assured him that he’s been still following the bandit. The insane pursuit has lasted for the better part of the day, Harvey Logan’s limbs flopped ahead without much coordination. Not even the adrenaline was sufficient anymore to keep him going. I don’t care. Garhala’s balls, I’m ready. Harvey Logan staggered and fell on his face. As he awaited the imminent end, voices sounded above. His eyes closed on their own volition. The earth underneath his chest thudded – the rhino must have been close. Or is it my heart? Something yanked him around and he ended on his back. One eye opened against his will. The young scout’s face had never looked prettier.

“You okay?”

Harvey Logan closed the eyes and battled the overwhelming desire to sleep, eventually he forced them open. “I’ve just run for … the entire day.”

Emm chuckled. “No longer than an hour—” And like that, the scout went flying. His place took Red Bill. A horrible apparition of a man. Every inch of his body has been cut and smeared with blood. He kneeled down next to Harvey Logan, and Harvey swallowed. As soon as he did it, a tip of a knife bit under his chin. Harvey Logan’s eyes widened in shock. No … I haven’t done all this running to die like this. Obviously, Harvey Logan has been thinking about his death on occasions – the nature of his job had its demand. But such a possibility had been a remote in his mind.

“You lied,” Red Bill said, an intent to kill vibrant in the bandit’s eyes.

“About what?” Now, now. I lie all the time, you better be more specific.

“About the tax con, bastard.” The knife bit a little deeper and Harvey Logan whimpered as the spike of pain surged in his head. He could feel wetness on his neck. Harvey Logan attempted to open his mouth, but he couldn’t speak without the knife going deeper. What now?

“Just kill him, Bill, and let’s be over with this,” Siddy said from somewhere above. Harvey wondered where the hell went that rhino. Now it’d be the best time to make an appearance.

“Shut up, Sid,” Red Bill growled. “If not your bloody cowardice, we’d rally them up there and killed everyone in the bloody village.”

“Are you mad? There were—”

“Don’t try me, rat. Or I promise you, I’ll gut you where you stand and leave it be for the night to claim your stinking carcass.”

Siddy fell silent and Harvey Logan prayed hard for the rhino or savages or anything to come crashing on them. But his prayers were lost on whatever god he was praying to. Instead, the knife withdrew, Red Bill stood up and rolled his shoulders. “I’ve no patience for the bloody talks. I leave you for Black Jon to find out how many coins we’d lost in your schemes.” What? How many coins … no, this man is a half-wit. That’s all. I can’t imagine what kind of decision-making skills possesses Butcher to put him in charge of this party. Harvey Logan got to his feet in the blink of an eye, when it turned out that the band wouldn’t wait for him a heartbeat longer.

They continued walking the bed of the valley. Eventually, Harvey Logan realized why he’d thought the day was coming to an end. He’d fallen under the heavy-canopied part of the valley where only scant rays of light filtered through.

The fell party extended over a hundred paces. The young scout was already nowhere in sight. Behind him, following his trail walked the healer Perkins. A spindly, tattooed man of whom Harvey Logan has thought to be mute. Since the expedition has started two weeks ago, the healer has uttered maybe a half dozen words. None of them nice. Never mind that. That man has such a mean face, that it’s no wonder he doesn’t trust himself to speak in the company of Red Bill. The leader of the party strode third. The vigor, he moved with, made Harvey Logan wonder if the man could be a Royalblood. He had faced a dozen savage warriors and here he walked in one piece. I hope he isn’t another bastard Royalblood or as some calls it – a Rotblood. Wishing the thoughts out of his head, Harvey’s gaze fell on Siddy’s back. The bandit stepped about five paces ahead of him. The air around Siddy was different. He clearly had come from a coastal city or town, because he had none of the tribal traits like Perkins or Emm. Unlike these two, Harvey Logan believed that ‘Siddy’ was his real name. He also possessed an almost fair skin, which itself was rather unusual in this region. Siddy has smiled the most, often joking and pranking. But Harvey had been warned that Siddy wouldn’t think twice about slitting his throat given a reason. Now, he believed it, and reason … there wasn’t a need for reason. Harvey Logan closed the procession. He wondered if they cared either he tumbled and lay till the nightmares of this forsaken jungle would steal his life. Oh, but what is there to even think about? These fellas are bandits. Cruel, vicious, and illiterate. They kill for coins. To think about it now, there isn’t much difference between them and Royalblood Houses. I better consider leaving their company in the next town. But could he really do it? There must be at least a thousand miles to the Red Cities. More importantly, Harvey Logan couldn’t just go back to Madrab. Matters of his future in the Red Cities were debatable at best. It happened that Harvey Logan had been spinning a web of cons and intrigues across the Red Cities, and this had led to the point where he had no clue of what was going on. Too many jobs. He’d bet that he was already a wanted man, at least under three dozen names. Such demands—

He bumped into Siddy. The bandit didn’t expect this and combined with the smaller bulk than the conman, it shoved him hard ahead. He stumbled and fell at Red Bill’s feet. Siddy hissed angrily and attempted to rise. A hand smacked him in the head. He dropped and didn’t try to stand up again. Red Bill’s gaze judged Harvey, presumably if that was the right moment to kill him. After ten heartbeats, Red Bill turned without a word and waited for the scout to return. Harvey Logan opened mouth, an apology was almost out, then he decided against it. Some things were best left unsaid. Siddy didn’t seem like someone who cared one way or another.

Emm slipped onto the small trodden circle in the middle of the high fern. On one side squatted Perkins, bags with the coins, food, and medicine next to him. On the other side, stood motionless Red Bill. They watched the scout and waited. Neither Siddy nor Harvey entered the clearing.

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“A highblade lake ahead,” Emm said. “This valley ends there anyway. We can go to the northeast, there is another riverside village. Or to the northwest into the Silent Fall.”

Siddy cursed. Harvey Logan didn’t know what was happening, but he concluded he didn’t like it. What is that Silent Fall? I’ve never heard of such a place. And what is the highblade lake?

“How deep is the lake?” Harvey Logan asked.

Emm smiled. “I don’t know. Go and find out.”

Harvey narrowed his eyes on him but said nothing. In this company, Harvey didn’t truly have a say.

“The Silent Fall,” Perkins said.

“Idiot,” Siddy spat. “If you have a death wish, then go ahead, damned mute. Go and die.”

Perkin’s hand traveled to the pommel of his knife. Suddenly, the air tensed up. Siddy had a hand on his own knife. They glared at each other.

“We won’t get to the Silent Fall in time.” What the hell was this supposed to mean?! Harvey blinked, he was sweating, shredded damp clothes hanging off him. This is going in a very bad direction.

“Yes. We missed the opportunity to go for the Fall. Not much light left. We either hurry up to that village or we make a stand here and fight through the night.”

WHAT?! This is bonkers. Gurhala take him. This bandit is not only coldblooded but insane as well. Extremely insane. Fighting throughout the night? What was he expecting to fight? … oh, I don’t want to know. Harvey didn’t have a knife and he didn’t want one. All he wanted was a sleep. Fighting … good joke. Then why no one was laughing? Indeed, the atmosphere got thick as if they’ve entered the Drowner Monsoon zone. Some plays at the university had had this kind of a moment. Just right before every hero in the performed story died. Granted, we’re not heroes. Just a miserable bunch of fools who are about to die… Gods this is depressing. When I die, I need a long holiday.

“We’re too close to the Silent Fall to stay outside during the night,” Emm said. “There is a good chance we’ll run into an amakor.” Or rather an amakor will run into us. These beasts were rare. And praise the gods for that. As large as a grown elephant, these cat-like creatures were deemed the apex predator of the jungle. One of Harvey Logan’s lifelong goals has been to not find himself in the presence of one of these beasts. He felt disturbingly strong need to speak up.

“What about the rhino and the mob that had pursued us?”

Everyone looked in his direction. Their combined attention didn’t intimidate him. After all, he had graduated at the University of Theatrical Arts. He was familiar with daunting stares. Oh, how he hated them (he hated them all the same).

“What rhino?” Red Bill asked.

“I—”

“Tri-horned,” Siddy answered, a vicious satisfaction in his voice. He wasn’t a subtle one. He now squatted with a grin, watching Harvey, obviously waiting for something gruesome.

Red Bill spat. “Bloody bastard,” and continued with a dangerous growl. “That bloody rhino will chase us to the damned village.”

“He must have given up,” the scout said. “He wasn’t far behind the conman.”

Red Bill whirled to him. The large man’s hand shoot and grabbed the scout by the neck. “So, you knew about this and didn’t mention it?” Emm’s eyes bulged, the grip on his neck must have been strong enough to suffocate the scout. Harvey Logan felt another urge to speak up, but this one had been swallowed by the survival instinct. No matter how strong the murderous intent in Red Bill’s eyes, the leader understood the necessity, and killing the only scout in this pitful party would spell disaster for him. He relented before Emm passed out.

“Now. You tell me everything I should know,” he told them, then added a warning. “One more surprise like this and my machete will speak. I’m tired of you.” Well said, idiot. You just ensured that no one will tell you anything of value.

No one said a thing (obviously). Harvey Logan hasn’t expected anything less. Red Bill regarded them for twenty heartbeats, then prodded Emm to move on. When the scout was at least five paces ahead, Red Bill turned to the healer and said, “keep the coins close from now on.”

Perkins held the leader’s gaze without a blink until Red Bill growled, “move, damned healer.” What was that? Could Siddy be closer to the truth when he had spoken of Perkin’s death wish? Harvey Logan hadn’t had a chance to witness the healer in action, but most people in Soto, the ghost town where Butcher’s band resided, had agreed that Red Bill might be the second in swordplay only to Butcher. Curious that. During the five days Harvey Logan had spent there, he hadn’t noticed Butcher to ever hold a machete or a sword. This alone should give Harvey Logan enough to think about…

The procession started again. Their pace quickened substantially. The highblade lake unfolded before them minutes later. An elongated oval clearing covered with high grasses. No other plant or tree grew in this bizarre place. It extended for two hundred paces ahead and ran for half of this length from side to side. If they called it a lake then, this must be metaphorical, because it held no water.

They turned northeast in the direction of the riverside village. The sky turned ashen when Harvey Logan for the first time fell. None of the bastards stopped or slowed down. Gurhala take them. Only Siddy looked back, bringing up a nasty grin. Seeing the bandit moving away, Harvey gathered strengths, clambered up, and stepped forth. About five hundred steps later, Harvey fell for the second time. Either they walked under a thick canopy or the light gave in. Trees turned into motionless phantoms, the jungle grew quieter since their escape from Yucca village. It made his heartbeat unnervingly loud. With a shock, Harvey Logan realized that he had never been in the jungle during the night. The dirt road that everyone has been using, had huts called shelters built alongside them to keep travelers inside during the nights. In his finer time, Harvey Logan had heard the drunkard stories circulating throughout the Red Cities. Stories of beasts and horrors of the night. He had even possessed a book or two, forbidden by the Empire – rightly so, about the monstrosities that dwelled in the jungle.

Sudden silence ahead forced him to halt. Alarmed, Harvey lowered himself. He couldn’t say why this seemed the best idea, because he was on the edge of freaking out. Dealing with people, even dangerous, was one thing. Dealing with the wilderness and its denizens … was best avoided.

He could see shapes of the bandits in the darkness. This alone didn’t let the panic loose. He edged closer.

“…must bypass it.”

“How much time will this detour cost us?”

“Two hours if we quicken our pace.” Harvey blinked the grainy sensation from his eyes. He was tired beyond imagination. Quicken pace? I think not.

“What about diversion?” Siddy asked.

Immediately, Harvey Logan sensed trouble. He had a good nose to sniff out troubles. Gods, why isn’t that enough to avoid them?

“What diversion?” Incredulity in Emm’s voice only confirmed Harvey’s fear.

“Why not bleed the conman and move silently around the staging area?”

“Are you—”

“Silence,” Red Bill cut in. Did he really consider it?

I think I should say something. Defend myself, give them other options… Truth was, Harvey Logan didn’t know what to do. Anything he deemed valuable looked like a joke in Red Bill’s eyes. These two couldn’t stand farther apart on the intellectual scale. Red Bill understood only the argument of strength. Harvey Logan possessed none of it, so he did what he always had done when situations turned sour, he prayed to gods. Not out of faith or belief – those were as scarce within him as physical strength – but as a necessity to shift his mind, to make it blind to a disaster ahead. Panic was the worst thing a person could do. It sealed a person’s fate.

Either, gods answered Harvey’s silent prayers, or immense luck followed him, he couldn’t say. But before Red Bill voiced his mind, a splintering and chugging came out of the direction the group traveled from. They all froze. Harvey’s blood must have turned to ice because his limbs didn’t respond to his commands. Then the mayhem above them began. Damned, cursed, spiteful monkeys returned. Such a blissful sound. I love you! Then, realization struck him. The other sounds could only belong to the rhino.

“Run,” Harvey whispered to others, but everyone was already running away.