Rove
Bren’s Bridge, The Grasping Isle
[https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/492636828311093249/1025904548910485504/The_Grasping_Isle.png]
The coldness of the river caused Rove to gasp for air, but he managed to keep his mouth shut through sheer mental effort. Waiting for when they would drift up. Eventually, he and Ayuen breached the water’s surface, both gasping for air as the bridge faded rapidly from view. The sounds of shouting and arguing became fainter, until they disappeared completely. The river’s waters were rough, Rove doing the best he could to protect his charge against the rocks and debris. Grunting, he bashed against the weathered smooth rocks in the riverbed. Before long, the Herhor was bruised and shaken up. A particularly large boulder grazed his head with a thump, leaving him dazed for a few seconds.
But fortunately for him, Ayuen had the common sense to help the two of them stay above the surface. Using her wings and legs, she helped him float while he was in his dazed state. He felt one of her arms grab him by the waist, pressing her body against his so they wouldn’t be separated. Despite everything, Rove couldn’t help but notice the feel of her slim body against him. His nerves were numbing, but somehow his bloody mind still picked that up. Must’ve been the impact. Slowly, the daze left him, and the errant thoughts with it.
He noticed that they’d slowed down, not moving with the current. The Pyrn had managed to grab onto a stone and was struggling to combat the rough current, grunting with clenched teeth. She was almost swept away by those fuming waters. Her wings didn’t help matters, only giving the river more grip to grab her with icy fingers. The things that helped keeping them afloat were now turning into a major hindrance. Determined, Rove grabbed onto the stone as well with both arms the moment Ayuen lost her grip on the rock. She barely stayed at the water’s surface, struggling to clamp onto him with one arm and keep her head above the water with the other.
“Grangblr…” Speaking was hard, the man having to put some effort in. “Hold… on… tightbargl… bothgl… arms.”
Immediately he felt her other arm seize his torso, strengthening her hold but submerging her face in the process. Rove immediately began to wade to the edge of the river, clamping onto rocks as he went and trying to keep his passenger above water. Ayuen managed to put her arms around his neck, making this whole ordeal slightly easier. Eventually, the rock under his finger shifted to pebbles, and Rove slowly crawled upon the shore, drained but very much alive. Ayuen let go at this point, rolling off him and panting heavily.
“Ayuen… still in one piece?” He asked, gasping for breath while he did so.
“I am, somehow… At least, I think I am.” A dry chuckle came from her, followed by a bout of coughing as she coughed up water.
“Damn, that water was not kind to my wings.” Ayuen then muttered, standing up. Rove followed suit, thoroughly soaked and cold.
“We need to get moving. Right now. Before our blood freezes in our veins.” He said, shivering. Damned mountain rivers. Even though the weather was warm, the water itself was freezing, courtesy of the ice formations on the mountains above them.
“Agreed. Just give me one moment.” Ayuen said, shivering severely in her wet dress and corset. Her clothes were soaked too, and stuck to her wings and body like glue. Not ideal.
Then, without giving him a chance to respond, she started undressing, getting rid of her cloak and the garments on her upper body before wringing them out to get rid of some of the water icy water. He could get a good look at her body for the first time.
She turned to him, entirely unabashed of her partial nakedness. And he had to admit, she had a nice body under those layers of clothing. Fit, great curves, with a slender waist and well-shaped breasts. Her wings, ears and fur didn’t detract from that, he found.
But even though he appreciated the sight, this wasn’t the time to get bashful over a naked woman. Moreover, those same shivers that had taken a hold of her were now running across his back. Better take Ayuen’s example and strip down so he could dry quicker. Grunting, he quickly stripped himself from his upper clothing too, wringing out his clothes and strapping them and his armour on his back. He nodded to Ayuen when she was done and pointed towards the north, using the sun quickly to get their bearings. Following the river precisely wasn’t a good idea. They would have to go a little off-track.
“Okay, we’ll go this way. Trïeste made a mad dash for the horses just before we jumped in. She might have gotten out with our supplies. And our horses were more on the Maiden’s Mirror part of the bridge. Probably had to flee downstream.”
“Very well, you lead the way.”
Rove had only put two steps forwards when a white-hot pain shot through his left leg. He collapsed to the ground with a muffled stream of curses, clamping his leg.
“Damn this… That blasted river roughed me up worse than I thought.”
“Let me take a look.”
Ayuen approached him quickly, completely disregarding her state of dress. She crouched next to him, pulling the trousers up and examining the sore spot. Her touch caused pain to shoot up repeatedly, and he groaned between his teeth. After what seemed an eternity of prodding, she nodded and started mumbling, her eyes closed. A faint light enveloped the wound and after about a minute, the pain started to ebb away.
“… There.” With that quiet word, the Pyrn eyes opened and a flash of yellow light momentarily replaced the green. After the light faded away, the green was gone as well, the pain faded with it.
“This should do it for now,” Ayuen said softly, panting even more heavily than when she climbed out of the river. “Try to walk now, if you’d please.” He just nodded, shakingly standing upright and putting some weight on the leg. Although it wasn’t gone completely, it would suffice for now. He could walk, he could hike.
With a small smile around his lips, he gave Ayuen a thumbs up, which was reciprocated with a tired smile from the Pyrn herself.
“Now,” She continued, her tone weary and words simple. “I can only pull this off once per day at most. I’m not as good at this as Trïeste is. And my magic is not as effective as hers. We’re lucky that you weren’t hurt that bad.”
“Even still, this already helps immensely. Thanks, Ayuen.” Even this sort of ‘minor’ healing was extremely handy. And if Trïeste was better at this than Ayuen, that could only promise better things to come. If they could reconvene with her, of course.
“Just keep that blasting magic of yours ready. When we see them coming, that’ll be the greatest boon we have.”
Ayuen grimaced but nodded solemnly. They were in agreement. No further words were needed.
And with that, the two went on their way. No squabbling, no arguing, just the drive to get out of there.
----------------------------------------
Silent and determined, Rove and Ayuen made their way through the forest. It took them a good half an hour to find the road again after travelling away from it for a while. They had travelled away from Bren’s Bridge and ended up quite a bit more to the north. Which according to his estimations should put Prado’s men off their scent for now. Moving with stealth and grace was still a priority though. Gesturing to Ayuen to keep hidden, Rove snuck towards the edge of undergrowth, looking up and down the sandy silent road. It was empty, both sides vacant of anything living, hostile or otherwise inconvenient. He let out the breath he was unconsciously holding in and beckoned Ayuen to join him. Carefully and slowly, like a rabbit stepping out onto an open field, she joined him.
“Alright.” Her voice was unsure as she stifled a tiny sneeze, a far cry from her more sophisticated usual self, her eyes still scanning the environment. “No soldiers, thank the Arals. No sign of Trïeste though.”
Rove crouched down on the path, looking at the tracks. Two horse tracks were leading towards the bridge and by the looks of it, five pairs of tracks leading back. The three horses they had, pursued by two mounts from Prado’s company.
“I found the tracks she left. We can follow them, but by the looks of it, Prado has already started his pursuit. We need to hurry and hope she managed to lose them.”
A frown of worry formed on Ayuen’s forehead, and she seemed to get more determined at the news. She nodded and stepped towards him.
“Of course. Go right ahead, take the lead.”
“Can you run for a while?” He asked. They would have to make a bit more speed, and the exercise would help them warm up a bit.
“Excuse me?” She tilted her head, reapplying her frown and gesturing towards her body. “Run? Without my upper clothes on? In this state? Are you serious, Rove?”
Rove grunted, nodding grimly.
“Yes, run. Need to cover as much distance as we can right now. Don’t have time nor luxury to worry about indecency. But on those clothes, if you’re that unsure about your looks. They’ll dry while you run.” He said flatly. They didn’t have a choice. Every minute lost was a minute Prado could potentially find their alchemist.
Without waiting any longer, he turned his gaze away from her and started jogging down the road at a decent page. A moment later, he heard Ayuen’s footsteps against the dirt to speed up into a short sprint to catch up, slowing down into a jog after she took her spot behind him. Looking over his shoulder, Rove gave the woman a nod of appreciation, seeing she'd bound up her chest to make it easier to run.
They ran for a solid twenty minutes. Rove had no trouble holding to the tempo, but Ayuen was a different story. Even though the woman’s stamina was rather impressive for a city-dweller, after ten minutes of running at a high tempo, she needed to catch her breath.
During the breather, Rove was able to verify they were still on the right track as his companion rested. After a few minutes, they ran on. After about twenty minutes and a lot of muffled swearing and muttering from Ayuen, they encountered a crossing, with two small paths intersecting with the main road. During the run, they slowly put on more clothes, and both of them were now dressed completely. Their clothes were still damp, but at least they weren’t ice cold.
“Wait, stop here, something is off,” Rove urged, crouching down in the middle of the crossing and following where the tracks went. Ayuen just collapsed beside the road into the grass, not even nodding, the woman panting heavily. The Herhor’s eyes narrowed as he focussed, carefully following the different tracks. The horse tracks went off on one of the smaller paths, but something was not right. It was hard to see, but he could swear that there were only three sets tracks. Odd. He started counting the number of tracks a little further on the path. There were indeed only three.
This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.
Rove spend a good ten minutes searching while Ayuen rested up, eventually joining him just as he found what he was looking for: a tangle of tracks, with two tracks disappearing into one of the smaller trails. A large grin appeared on his face. Oh Trïeste, you clever girl. She sacrificed one horse to make a dummy trail, heading in a different direction herself. Meanwhile, Ayuen looked at the tracks with a rather confused look on her face, and raised an eyebrow at the sight of Rove’s sudden grin, folding her wings more comfortably on her back with a soft rustle.
“Might I inquire if there is something funny about these particular tracks?” Rove gave her an amused look at her words. The fancy speech had returned. Shame, real shame. With a huff, he looked at the woman and nodded.
“You might. It appears that Trïeste managed to get rid of her pursuers for the time being. Went down this smaller path by the looks of it.”
Ayuen shot him another doubtful glance, after which she peered at the tracks in the soil again, squeezing her eyes.
“Are you certain of that, Rove?”
“Yes, yes. Positive. Now get your stuff and let us go before those riders realize their mistake and backtrack.”
They walked down the path, the light hilly forest making a place for a narrow mountain valley, with the path running at its bottom.
Just as Rove began to doubt his judgment and that they had travelled the wrong way, the scraping and clanging sound of rolling rocks reached his ears. His hand instinctively went to his scabbard, only to find it empty. His hand only grabbed empty air. Raising his dagger against the threat instead, he stood ready, Ayuen finding refuge behind his back.
A silhouette jumped down from a ledge, landing on the path in front of them. Rove lounged forward, only to be halted by two high-pitched screams of alarm from both ahead and behind him. With his dagger at her throat, Trïeste stared at him wide-eyed, raising her arms and letting her own dagger fall to the ground with a metallic clang.
“H-h-hey Rove…” Her voice was quivering, a shaky smile on her face. “M-mind putting that dagger away? I’ve g-got two of the horses for you if you do?”
Breathing a sigh of relief, Rove did what she asked, rubbing his eyes and sitting down for a second. The adrenaline slowly left his body and left tiredness in its wake. They made it. They managed to escape from Prado and reunite with Trïeste. All for the low price of one horse. He gladly would’ve paid a dozen more for this outcome. He looked at Trïeste, his lips curling up into a small smile.
“Well done, Trïeste. That was quite the misdirection you managed at the crossing. I almost missed it, were it not that I was looking out for it.”
“Heh.” The young woman puffed her chest forward, wiping the side of her nose with her thumb. “They obviously weren’t. I’m not gonna be outsmarted by some tin cans, Rove!”
“So, except the horse, what other items did we lose?”
As snow in summer, her confident expression shifted to an apologetic one, her eyes shifting to avoid his gaze.
“Ehm… well… You know, Rove. It’s funny…”
Covering his face with a hand, Rove took a deep breath.
“So we lost my saddlebags?” He asked in a frustrated tone of voice. Great. Just great.
“Well…..I got your grappling hook! And one of the ropes! And a loaf of bread! But I’m afraid I also lost one of miss Ayuen’s bags.”
Upon hearing that, he buried his face in his palm.
“Any… sacks? Burlap ones?” He asked, mumbling through his hand, thinking about what they could’ve lost.
“Uhhmm… no? Should I have take those?”
“Yes… yes you should.” The Herhor’s expression soured substantially and he smashed a fist onto the ground in frustration. “Those contained most of our rations and camping supplies. Our nights are going to be a lot rougher from here on out.”
“Ooww…” He could hear the scraping of boots over pebbles as Trïeste backed away from him. “Rove, I know I might have screwed up, but the funny thing is… Getting angry might not be-.”
“No, no, no.” He interrupted, standing up again and shaking his head. Trïeste stood a good three meters away from him now. “The alternative was losing everything. I was just hopeful, is all. You did well. Well done, Trïeste. And you too, Ayuen. Without you, we would’ve been swept halfway to Woodpoint by now.” At those last words, he turned to his employer, the woman staying silent. Ayuen smiled at both him and Trïeste, stepping forward and after patting him on the shoulder, gave Trïeste a short hug.
“I’m just glad we’re all fine. Even you, Rove. I really appreciate your help. I thought I was done for back there.”
Rove suddenly felt somewhat uncomfortable and averted his gaze. “That’s what you hired me for, don’t worry about it.”
The Pyrn put her hands on her hips and grinned at him with a mischievous smile.
“Oh, so when I find you worthy of a well-meant compliment for once, you act all evasive? That’s rather rude, even for somebody like you.”
“Go shove that compliment somewhere else.” He sneered, although he couldn’t keep a smile off his face. He didn’t mean it, not really. He was just glad both of his companions were alright.
“So…” Trïeste said, looking from Rove to Ayuen. “Compliments in weird places aside… shouldn’t we like… move?”
“Yeah, let’s. Back to the road and we’ll make a mad dash north from there. Prado’s men are armoured, so even with that little delay we had on the bridge, we should be able to keep a lead on the majority of his forces.”
This resonated with Ayuen as well, and with their heart a little bit lighter, they set out to continue towards Tinkersong.
----------------------------------------
With a substantially lighter load but their lives intact, they carefully made their way towards the main road again. Looping through an area of small paths and hills, it took about an hour to reach it.
After making sure everything was safe and clear, the group headed north, with Trïeste hitching a ride on Ayuen’s horse and Rove taking Trïeste’s. He had found tracks of the two horsemen that had been following Trïeste heading back south, most probably to comb out the area near the river. As such, this was their best chance to slip by unnoticed and cover some ground before Prado knew what was going on.
As they rode on he noticed Ayuen looking at him periodically, with questions in her eyes. Doubt and what he could only describe as dread crept up from the far reaches of his mind, and he ignored her telling stares. However, he could only bear it so much.
The thought that he was the cause of this happing weight heavily on his soul. Not telling her anything would just be hypocrisy on his end. Wouldn’t fit him in the slightest. And so, after a while, he turned his head to look at her.
“You know, you can also just ask with your mouth instead of with your eyes. It’s what your mouth is for. I know you can use it.” Some annoyance and reluctance crept into his voice. “Unless you’re going for some sultry poetry, then I’ll have to pass.” He added, attempting to lighten the atmosphere a little. More for himself than for his companions.
It appeared to work somewhat. At first, Ayuen tensed up, but at the mention of ‘sultry poetry’, she pouted and frowned at him although her eyes betrayed her amusement.
“Even though your voice betrays your desperation for female attention, I will do no such thing, sir Rove.” She retorted. “But I do wish to know more about the man we encountered earlier. He claimed to be related to you. And what about the name he used, Navene?”
At the sound of that blasted name, Rove visibly recoiled in disgust. He forced himself to answer.
“Yeah, I'll tell you. You two certainly deserve to know more, seeing the danger I put the both of you in.” Knots formed in his stomach and he felt rather uneasy. Rove cleared his throat before he started his story.
“That gnat in fancy armour, Prado, was not lying. His full name is Prado Tyheart, from the noble family of the Tyheart name that hails from the country of Derinia. He’s not my brother though. Not fully. He’s my half-brother, from the same mother. My original name is Navene Tyheart. And please do not use that name, lest I will be getting the urge to throw you off the nearest cliffside.”
At this point, both Ayuen and Trïeste were listening intently and seriously. No hint of teasing, only respect. The Pyrn poët nodded and motioned for him to continue. Seemed she was taking this seriously. It emboldened him.
“My father was a woodworker by the name of Ton, who got drafted into the Derinian army. Had a fun drunken night with a noblewoman called Kyra Tyheart. My bitch of a mother. She immediately left my father after that night and broke all contact. From what I remember from my father, I arrived around a year later on his doorstep with nothing but a short note. That she wanted my father to stay silent about this forever, or pay with his life and mine.”
His eyes wandered over the mountains ahead as he recalled the memories.
“And so I lived with my father for a good decade. Happy times. My dad was a great man. Grizzled, but soft where it mattered. But, one day, my father received a message and left the house in a hurry. When he came back, he was…” Rove swallowed a lump away that had magically appeared in his throat. “He was bleeding and coughing up blackish bile, his face pale as a sheet. Ten-year-old me tried to take care of him, but he died a few hours after he returned. Coughing in his bed until the very end.”
Regret and sadness permeated his voice. He could still see the memory in front of his mind’s eye, as clear as day. He could still hear his father’s rasping breath while he desperately tried to stop his bleeding. That memory alone made him want to drink his sadness away.
“Couple of hours later, I was picked up by a group of soldiers in Tyheart’s employ. Zavand, the city where the Tyhears reside, was a good two days of travel from my father’s house. Back then, I wasn’t able to connect the dots, but as I grew older I began to piece together what had happened…”
Now came the part where he normally lost his cool. He hadn’t told this story to anyway save a few people he trusted. Which were just old man Bren and Mearn to be honest, even though he wouldn’t admit his trust to the latter. He didn’t tell the Herhor woman everything, but enough. She could be trusted. The Arals knew that she had enough opportunities to kill or dupe him over the years.
He paused for a second before continuing, the silence hanging in the air, accentuated only by the falling of hooves on the dirt road below.
“What happened was that my mother had killed off my father. Poisoned the good man, the cowardly bitch.” The last word was spat out, Rove’s voice full of vitriol as his face contorted in rage.
“Confused and heartbroken, I was brought to my mother’s abode. I lived under her blood-stained boot for the remainder of my childhood. My ‘dear’ stepfather found me hideous, as did some of his children. My half-brethren. Prado used to be a decent fellow, but my mother’s poison quickly spread through his veins as he grew older. Grew from a good friend into a mother-loving bully. My oldest sister, Ira, was rotten to the core from the very beginning. Saw me as her little personal bastard slave to do her bidding.”
Taking deep breaths, he calmed himself down. Licking his lips, he continued, his eyes unfocussed on the road ahead.
“Even though I was stuck between all those rotten souls, there were a few people that treated me with some decency. One was the one that taught me the proper way of the blade, Sir Skarin. The other was my youngest half-sister. Mira Tyheart. Sweet child, seemingly immune to everything rotten mother wanted to teach her. Skarin’s lessons and Mira’s support, together with the occasional smuggling of a pancake or two, were the main reasons I didn’t go mad during that time.”
Holding the reigns with one hand, he tucked the other under his tunic and pulled out a small pendant. The trinket was dull and worn, but considering it had been a good ten years, it was in pretty good shape. He took a look at it with a small smile on his face. The knots in his stomach had dissolved somewhat as he talked, and his unease has mostly dissipated. A weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
“Mira gave me this pendant when I was finally able to flee the mansion with the help of both her and Skarin. I was sixteen summers then, with Mira being a mere thirteen summers old. I haven’t seen or heard from both of them ever since. Not for lack of trying though, mind you. Asked some of the traders I met for news, but without any luck. In the decade since I’ve worked my way up as a Herhor, changing my name to Rove and trying to forget about my past. Thinking I could get rid of it.”
With a soft ‘tsk’, he grabbed the right side of his head in annoyance. If anything, he never thought all of this would catch up with him like this. He tucked the pendant in his tunic again, patting his chest to make sure it was hanging safely and comfortably.
“I’m not nobility. I’m just a Herhor. Telling you what happened in my past has become a necessity, so here you have it. Don’t use the name I threw away... Please.”
“Thank you, Rove,” Ayuen said after a short pause. Her voice was soft, devoid of any jest or tease. She sped up a little, briefly putting a soft hand on his arm.
“Hhmm…” He didn’t have anything more to say, but he was thankful for the woman’s empathy. Trïeste seemed taken aback, not knowing what to do or say, the girl looking at the mountains and chewing on her lower lip. He couldn’t blame her.
“Trïeste,” He spoke up, causing her head to twist towards him so fast that he feared that it might twist off like a screw.
“Yes, Rove?”
“Well done back there. Couldn’t have done it any better myself.”
The girl looks at him with a neutral expression and then broke out into a large grin.
“Hehehe! I know, right? I’ve already proven myself to be valuable on this little journey. So when is the next deadly surprise? I’m all set to go at it again.”
He didn’t buy it. Not after their little brush with death. But it was good to see the kid being so lively. Ayuen was glancing at the Vysari girl, smiling a sad smile. Then she focused back on him, and their eyes met. He returned her smile, shaking his head.
“Right… I hope never. This contract has been enough of a pain already. Plus the fact that my own family is out for my head kind of complicates matters.”
Stretching, he pointed towards an offshoot of the path they were just passing.
"And on the subject of complicating matters, we’re going this way. We’re staying off the main road for now. The journey will take a couple of hours extra, but at least we’re not likely to be bothered by random armoured men on horses.” Frowning, he looked at his empty scabbard.
“Not to mention the son of a bitch broke my sword. I only got a dagger to try and fight people off with. Horse riders would be way too much for me to handle at this moment.”
“I’m afraid my assistance will also be limited,” Ayuen said, jutting a thumb at the empty quiver on her back. “Prado’s men broke through it when I attempted to defend myself from them. And I don’t know much more magic I can cast before collapsing after a day like this.”
“Well, guess we’ve run out of luck, then.” He simply said, spurring his horse into a faster tempo along the path. They had to reach Tinkersong as soon as possible if they wanted to stay safe.
“Stealthy and cowardly it is, then.”
[https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/554030201789743105/1028654515798409237/Grasping_Isle_Final_V1.0.png]