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Herbalist
24. Talking to the dead

24. Talking to the dead

After everything that had been said and done, they laid the bodies in a row inside the largest tent. They removed the arrows and searched for any written materials of importance but found nothing. Exhaustion was beginning to settle over everyone, yet they decided to dig a grave for the fallen before resting.

As they gathered outside the open tent, Moira made a suggestion.

"I could question them before we bury the bodies," she offered.

The group exchanged glances. Ashan was the first to speak.

"Sure, but can we trust what they say?"

"The spell draws on what they knew in life. They can’t lie—it’s like talking to an echo or a memory of the person. They'll say what they believed to be true," Moira explained, gesturing broadly toward the bodies. "According to my master’s theory, it’s not even exactly speaking with the spirit itself, but rather its echo. It knows only what it knew while alive. My master lives quite comfortably, mainly because he protects the Imperial family’s necropolises from spells like this," she added with a touch of enthusiasm, finding this line of research endlessly fascinating.

“In my opinion, we’ve got nothing to lose. We’ll start digging, and you do your thing,” Ashan suggested. The others agreed. The adrenaline from the fight was ebbing, and everyone was eager to finish the task and rest.

Tex followed Moira into the tent, curious about the interrogation process.

Moira stood over the first corpse, weaving the spell with deliberate gestures. She extended her hand over the corpse's head, her fingers moving ever so slightly as she finished the weaving of the spell.

The face of the deceased became surrounded by a pale mist tinged with faint purple light. A low, unnatural voice echoed softly, emanating as though from a great distance. "Ask your questions."

"Did you stay in contact with the man from Clay Hill? What did he tell you when he arrived in such haste on horseback that night, and what did you do with the information?" Moira asked, her tone sharp and direct.

"He warned us that the guards from Kardum were searching for allies of the Last Tribe. He suggested we should retreat further north soon. We planned to leave in the morning for the camp near Pinewood village to confer with Larkan, a disciple of the Elder," the voice replied.

"I know where Pinewood is," Tex murmured quietly.

"Why him?" Moira pressed further.

"He’s the one who decides the movements of our people in this region. Larkan speaks, we act," the voice answered in the same unnatural tone.

"How many people did he had with him the last time you saw him?" she inquired.

"Maybe about a dozen," came the reply.

"Do you know any other disciples of the Elder, or anyone in your group who might?"

"No."

"Describe Larkan in detail," she demanded.

The voice obliged, providing a thorough description of Larkan’s appearance, mannerisms, and other distinguishing features, along with a detailed account of how to reach his camp after it was inquired about it.

Moira continued asking a dozen more questions, though they yielded little additional useful information. Confident in her findings, she moved to another corpse for a second round of the spell. This confirmed what she had already learned.

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Tex stepped out of the tent and called to her companions, who were busy digging. "We’ve got a big fish! One of the Elder’s disciples, Larkan, is camping near Pinewood village, and he’s the one coordinating the Last Tribe’s movements in this region," she announced triumphantly. Moira emerged from the tent behind her.

"Then let’s pay him a visit tomorrow," one of the senior guards remarked. The group quickly reached a consensus.

"But for now, let’s finish this job and set up our camp on the other side of the hill. We all need to regain our strength," Ashan said, and the mention of rest was met with unanimous agreement.

They completed the shallow grave, placing the dead within and covering them with tent fabric. They secured the makeshift grave with stones from the campfire, ensuring the wind wouldn’t disturb it, and added stakes for reinforcement.

Following their plan, they relocated to the opposite side of the hill, where they set up their own camp. Exhaustion finally catching up with them, they settled in for the night, maintaining three-person watch shifts and vowing to never again rely on solitary guards.

Moira shared a tent with Tex, and by morning, it became clear that her companion had developed a habit of seeking extra warmth on the road. Tex slept curled up against her back, and thanks to this method, despite the cold wind howling outside, their makeshift sleeping quarters were comfortably warm, leaving no room for Moira to complain about the chill.

Without waking Tex, Moira dressed quietly and stepped outside. A one-pot breakfast was already bubbling cheerfully in a cauldron over the fire. Most of the group was up and about. A young, short road warden handed her a portion along with a spoon. She nodded her thanks and joined the circle around the fire.

“Morning, Moira. We talked a bit while you were still asleep,” Otan started.

She only grunted in response, her mouth full, but he carried on undeterred.

“We’ll try to capture this Larkan alive—city council will definitely want to have a word with him. But if it can’t be helped...” He shrugged. “Well, he can still testify afterward.” He snorted briefly, showing no sympathy for the potential fate of the Elder’s lackey.

Moira swallowed and replied, “Understood, though who knows—he might be the Elder’s favorite pupil, and as a prisoner, he could become a bargaining chip. So let’s make sure we did our best with Plan A before we resort to Plan B.” She ate another spoonful of the stew, raised her spoon like a toast, and said to the young warden stirring the pot, “It’s very good.” He nodded back with a smile.

“Of course, of course,” Otan agreed, then added, “But it’s good to know that if things go sideways, all won’t be lost.” He clapped his hands on his knees before standing up. “Anyway, eat up and get ready—we’re heading out in about an hour.” With that, he walked off toward the horses to tend to them.

Ashan sat down next to her with a cup of something hot in his hands. He took a few sips and waited until she finished eating before starting the conversation. “Did you sleep well?”

“Pretty well. Tex made sure we stayed warm,” she replied, setting her bowl down in the grass and stretching.

“Excuse me?” he asked, with a hint of uncertainty.

“I slept well, and we didn’t freeze despite the weather,” she clarified casually, laughing lightly. “Ready to move out? Do we have a plan on how we’re going to approach the camp?” she asked, shifting her tone to a more serious one.

“Ah, yes. We’ve agreed to circle around from the west. There’s a ridge there that will keep us hidden for a long time,” he explained, taking another sip of his steaming drink.

“Sounds like a plan,” she said approvingly. Standing up, she picked up her bowl and glanced back at him over her shoulder. “See you on the road shortly.” He responded with a raised cup.

Not long after, Tex and the rest of the group who had taken the last watch also got up. They quickly ate breakfast while others prepared the horses and gear for the journey. By late morning, they were riding again, heading northwest with the intention, if possible, of capturing their target alive. Ashan alternated between riding at the front and the rear, keeping a vigilant watch on the surroundings, while Tex ensured they stuck to firm ground to leave as few tracks as possible. They passed through thinning trees and skirted around thickets that occasionally obstructed their path. They were far off the main road, and it wasn't until around noon that they joined a narrow side trail connecting two villages. An hour later, they stopped for a brief rest.

Moira was watering the horses when she accidentally caught part of a conversation.

"Back-to-back, just to keep warm. And what were you thinking?" Tex asked in a laughing but hushed voice. "Neither she nor I dance in that direction, so that’s one thing you don’t need to worry about, you big oaf."

"No, that's not what I—" Ashan began, gesturing emphatically. This only made it harder for Tex to hold back her laughter. Finally, he sighed in defeat and concluded, "Thanks, Tex. I’ll go check on the horses."

Moira managed to slip away just in time, retreating to the other side before Ashan could notice her. She didn’t want to meet his eyes and risk giving away that she had overheard the exchange. Instead, she joined a small group of guards, chatting about the road ahead until the team was ready to move again. At this rate they should reach their destination before nightfall.