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Chapter 63

[63]

By early afternoon the next day, no one had responded to our distress beacon, and we had good reason to believe they never would. Conversation between us was becoming strained.

Command ranged the teams out a little less than half a day apart from each other. The rationale being that if one group got in trouble, two could respond with aid in a reasonable time frame. Spread out, the ten groups would cover close to a week’s worth of travel across the northern hills. Our group being at the northernmost point was the only exception. With Izzy with us, that was deemed an acceptable risk.

Shortly after we used our beacon, Reynold’s team used theirs. Almost as if the signal reminded them, they had the ability. I did not know the Ankest noble that led their team, but if he had truly forgotten about the beacon, he was a right moron. Perfect company for Tedric and Reynold to my mind.

Gene wanted us to leave right after the Kestev alert went out, stating that the others would continue following us, even if we moved. Though he was right, Izzy believed the Doom Champion was a serious enough threat that it warranted us staying put. She argued that if the monster had gone after any other group, they would have died. Further, it was entirely plausible the creature would head right for us after my curse wore off. Staying put to wait for the others was the sensible way to handle such a powerful undead.

Of course, the rest of us agreed with the Stoneblood, just not completely for the same reason. Naturally, this irritated Gene to no end because he knew our regard for his family. What he did not realize was that was only part of the problem for us. None of us wanted to have to choose to go against Gene. The issue divided our loyalties, and neither Joy nor I believed we could stand by while our team leader massacred men in service to the queen. We were not patriots; but Gene’s aggression did not lead us to believe he could resolve the situation peacefully. Those men were just doing their jobs and needed to be convinced with a show of force, not actual force.

Rather than getting the expected support, we got a worrying chain reaction. Overnight, two more beacons went off, making Gene’s argument more dangerous and less sensible. Staying put under the circumstances was decidedly the wiser action. Another went off at dawn, bringing the total to five of ten teams requesting immediate aid.

Each time a new alert came in, Gene’s mental state deteriorated further. He worried about his brother; that much was obvious, but what I had not expected was him to buckle under the pressure of leadership. For all his talk about loving battle and wanting to fight in the Ruinlands, it never occurred to me that being thrust into a position where he had to decide a course of action would be too much for the ascendent of war. Or maybe his pathological need to fight was overwhelming his resolve. My guess was it was a combination of the two.

The large, plated man paced around our camp like a caged wolf, responding to every sound or motion like it was a dire threat. To calm him, Raxx began his singing routine. It worked for a time. But eventually Gene told him to shut it, reprimanding that Raxx’s awful racket made it hard to hear an ambush. Joy tried to help him next with an herbal tea, but because of his inebriation, the brew did not work. If anything, the taste made him even angrier than before.

It was not until Izzy used a charge of her communication token to contact Ashmere that Gene calmed down a touch. She had withheld using the device in the face of a lack of intelligence, but after observing the alarm of half the excursion force, Izzy could no longer hold off.

Long range tokens like hers were very expensive and took special artifact training to use, which was the supposed reason Ashmere did not provide all teams with them. Fulk, the excursion commander, also told us that no one would be there to help us in the Ruinlands, and not having the crutch was good training. I wondered if he felt the same way now.

Izzy returned to the camp from her brief talk with Ashmere with a grim face.

“Well?” Gene asked impatiently.

“They are already aware of our situation. Help is on the way,” Izzy said neutrally.

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“Aware?” Gene scoffed. “They know there is a Doom Champion out there?”

“Not precisely—well, I mean they do now. Ashmere is aware of the ambushes. The command team is rushing around, trying to recall everyone. Since we are the second farthest out, they haven’t made it here yet. They’ve called in the regulars for support and rescue.” Izzy explained.

If that was true, the situation was even more serious than I thought. The regulars were former Ashmere students who graduated and stayed at a little town north of campus. They were experts and adventurers that specialized in Ruinlands excursions. Their power was undeniable, as they had the highest ranks and best magical gear obtainable.

“So, we are just going to back up and go home with our tail between our legs?” Gene said, turning red with anger.

“Unfortunately, no,” Izzy said. “They are afraid for your brother’s team, since by the time help arrives this far north, it might be too late. Ashmere ordered us to retrieve them and find out what the goal of the Ergentein troops was.”

“Yes!” Gene yelled, standing up and pumping his fist. He followed it up with a whooping yell.

No! I thought simultaneously. We were right back to square one. Did Ashmere insist on making me do this as some kind of test?

Gene started getting his horse ready, but Izzy stopped him.

“Hold on, we aren’t finished talking,” she said.

“What more is there to say? We can talk while we ride.” Gene retorted.

Izzy gave him a severe look. “Gene.”

Once he turned to face her, giving Izzy his full attention, she resumed the conversation.

“We are on Ergentein soil, and they stressed the importance of managing the situation diplomatically. I will be in charge of talking to them. Do you understand?”

Gene mulled it over, his face a visible mix between agitated and relieved. Seeing his mixed emotions so plainly on his face led me to conclude that there might be a modicum of rationality behind that drunken facade. Izzy’s more political touch would be better for everyone, especially his brother. Having the RRS hound you for the rest of your days, ascended or not, was not an outcome that any sane person would welcome.

I tensed, waiting for his response. We were finally at the point where the team would be with him or against him. Gene never got that chance to answer.

“Well, that will be easy, at least,” Joy said, pointing at a hill northeast of us. “They are right there.”

All of team seven turned the direction she pointed to see five battered horsemen in plate armor. Blood covered purple and white tabards of the Ergentein military covered their chests and horses, leaving no doubt who they served.

Gene began mounting up again, right there on the spot, but Izzy ordered him to hold. The men spotted us and came directly toward us with no need for action on our part.

“Where are the rest of them? Weren’t there, like twenty of them?” Joy asked, watching them descend the hill.

“Good question,” Izzy said.

“Gene,” I called out before they got here.

Our team leader reluctantly took his eyes off the men to look my way.

“Let Izzy handle this,” I reaffirmed. “We will get it sorted out.”

Gene gave me a quick nod. “All you,” he said to Izzy a moment later.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

“Ho there!” The lead rider called to us a good thirty feet out. “Are you ascended of Ashmere?”

“We are from Ashmere,” Izzy said, striding to the front of our group.

“Thank the gods!” the man exclaimed. “There is an army of ghouls roaming the damn hills.”

“Come and have a seat with us. Let’s hear your story. I may need to report it back to Ashmere.” Izzy said in a tone similar to the one her husband used. A voice full of command experience that resonated with soldiers the world over.

“As you say,” the man said, nimbly jumping off his warhorse and leading it toward us. It surprised me to discover how young he was; he could not have been more than a few years older than I was.

Izzy reached him before he made it to the camp, clasping his arm in camaraderie. “Ghouls?” I heard her ask.

“Scores of them!” he said, throwing up his hands. “We were out on, uh, patrol when they came pouring out of the hills. Almost my entire platoon died. It was only by the grace of these fine beasts that we got away.” He rubbed on his warhorse for emphasis.

“I’m Watch Commander Iza-Cen-Boleman of the Ashmere Guard,” Izzy said.

“L.T.,” one of his men, still on horseback, yelled.

Irritated at being interrupted, he looked over his shoulder to see his man nodding toward Gene’s warhorse.

Damn it. I thought.

“That is one of our horses,” the soldier said coldly.

“It is,” Izzy said without dispute. “We have been following you for a while now.”

“I see.”

“What was your plan for the Kestev group?” Izzy said.

The man looked at us, then back to his battered men, then sighed.

“We weren’t after a group. Our orders were to bring in the terrorist Reynold Kestev.” the man said reluctantly.

“Terrorist!?” Gene stammered. “That’s bullshit. What about Tedric?”

Izzy held up a placating hand that shut Gene up.

“Tedric? His cousin? No, we aren’t after him. We are just here to arrest Reynold. We want to bring him in peacefully.”

“You know you can’t do that, right? He is a student at Ashmere.” Izzy said.

“Ordinarily, that is true. However, he voided his legal protection under the allied kingdom agreement by enacting a war crime,” the soldier said confidently.

My heart began beating fast.

“What crime is that?” Izzy asked.

“We have evidence that Reynold Kestev, while a student at Ashmere, sacked and destroyed the village of Weston.”