>
> “Tie those sacks better Totas!” Roran barked eyeing the loaded mule under furrowed brows. “It’s about to topple into the ditch!”
>
> “Can’t give it additional slack sir!” the young hoplite replied pulling at the ropes with both hands.
>
> “Just unload it and do it again by Goddess!” Roran snapped. “You better finish afore I get back hoplite!” He added, signed for Aquilan to help him out and started towards the exit of the stables. The recruits needed to learn there was more to campaigning than marching and weaponry.
>
> ‘No better way to learn than going on a low-risk campaign,’ Anfalon had decided. ‘Let mother nature rid us of the weaklings or the stupider of the bunch. Although it’s not that easy to free yourself of the latter.’
>
> “Young Roran, son of Saeveril. I’d like a word,” a serious female voice said stopping him not ten strides later. Eh, Roran thought and turned to wait for the solemn-faced Lady Olonelis to approach. The Elderblood came to stand in front of him. Roran bowed his head a little apprehensive.
>
> “You are leaving tomorrow,” she commented looking at the hoplites loading supplies on the animals.
>
> “That’s correct.”
>
> “Lord Anfalon said Elwuin will join you along Lady Aelinole,” Olonelis continued.
>
> “My Lady you probably know more than me,” Roran responded and she stared at him warningly.
>
> “You were a much better child before moving up the ranks,” Olonelis scolded him.
>
> “Apologies. I’m quite busy my Lady,” Roran replied stiffly.
>
> It comes with the rank.
>
> “Darunia will come with you.”
>
> Roran blinked not expecting it.
>
> “The girls are looking to catch up,” she continued. “I wanted to take her back to Abarat but she offered to go on your expedition. Why is that?”
>
> Roran had no idea.
>
> “Why do you want her back at Abarat? Why not Goras or here?” He asked instead.
>
> “I’m not sending Darunia to Goras,” Olonelis spat angry. “And the Monarch has himself surrounded by adventurers.”
>
> The way she said it, Roran thought for a moment she meant bandits.
>
> “She always had a thing for—”
>
> “It’s in her blood,” Olonelis interrupted him rudely. “Looking for that thrill that killed her father. But not in the way you think. It’s the idea behind it. Then it’s Aelinole and her fascination with their ilk which fuels her fantasies. I don’t mean you per se but you disturbingly fit the mold.”
>
> “The thrill-seeking bandit?”
>
> “You got half of it right.”
>
> “I don’t see how,” Roran grunted at the insult.
>
> “I almost lost her on your watch Roran,” Olonelis cautioned him.
>
> “My Lady with all the respect it was Lord Rothomir that sent her away,” Roran retorted.
>
> “Your man let her be captured.”
>
> “He almost died to prevent it,” Roran growled. “It wasn’t his fault! Darunia wandered off!”
>
> “I wonder why. What if she does it again?”
>
> Roran sighed and stared at the ground.
>
> “I don’t trust you enough,” Olonelis continued. “You dropped your guard with Ebe and you might do it again.”
>
> It had been well over a century but the ancient Zilan’s heart hadn’t mellowed at all.
>
> “They lied to me. Your daughter as well,” Roran said hoarsely. “Life is not a game.”
>
> “Oh, just snap out of it fool!” Olonelis hissed and stabbed her finger on his chest. “Darunia avoids liars and loves honesty. Yes, she craves the attention. But she was never interested in the half-breed!”
>
> “Does she like this adventurer?”
>
> Lady Olonelis had a heavy hand due to her gardening skills. Her slap had landed like a punch. Roran shook his head and breathed out slowly.
>
> “Wow, you’re strong. You’re also not of high enough station yet to comment on her choices,” she warned. “I’m not as forgiving as Lord Suraer. Anything happens to my daughter, you better not return Roran.”
>
> “Lady Olonelis,” Roran rustled angry. “I may not make it but I’ll make certain she does,” he added after a small pause.
>
> His words were well received by the Elderblood. She stepped back and examined him slowly.
>
> “You mean it,” Olonelis finally said.
>
> “Absolutely,” Roran spat affronted.
>
> “I believe you,” Olonelis decided. “Onas always said you’re honest Roran.”
>
> Lord Onas?
>
> Olonelis stared at him a little flustered at the slip of the tongue.
>
> Roran opted not to say anything.
>
> “You should have that helm fixed,” she said appreciatively after an awkward moment. Roran had it under his armpit.
>
> “It’s as good as it’ll get,” he retorted a little confused.
>
> “I have a couple in my garden. I use them to grow flowers into,” she said. “I can clean one and have it delivered before you leave,” Olonelis offered.
>
> Now that was weird.
>
> “I appreciate the gesture my Lady,” Roran replied steadily. “But I have to decline. It belonged to a friend.”
>
> The ancient Zilan nodded her nicely combed head. Her hair a rich blue but everyone knew she painted it as most of the older ladies.
>
> “Yes, you’ve grown finally,” she murmured running her eyes on his larger frame. Her scrutiny very disturbing out in the open and in front of his men. “Now, it makes sense,” Olonelis added sounding pleased.
>
> Roran had no idea what the old Council Member meant, but he was glad their conversation was over.
----------------------------------------
----------------------------------------
Roran, of Saeveril
Second of the Phalanx
Leader of the Main Othrim
The Shores of Rain-Minas
Part III
-A Healer’s heart-
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The moaning half-breed’s sweaty bushy brows connected in the middle of his forehead seeing the wild-eyed Roran towering over him.
“Me arm hurts mate,” he pleaded hoarsely.
Roran reached and grabbed the collar of his tattered shirt. “Answer my query vile human!” The Hoplite spat in the struggling man’s face.
“I’m losing too much blood—”
“Speak!” Roran boomed. “Or perish!”
“Can’t remember the query!”
Roran snapped his arm letting go of the collar and immediately snatched the man’s jaw, long fingers reaching as far as the ears. He squeezed hard feeling pure rage running inside his taut veins.
Ugly, stinky rat-faced worm.
“Roran!” Aelinole barked slapping at his arm to stop him from killing the shuddering stranger. “We need him alive.”
A heavy breathing Roran released his grip and the man’s feet touched the ground again as the Hoplite had lifted ‘Twelve’ off of it in his fury.
The man faltered and dropped to his knees, a hand clasping at his bleeding arm still skewered by the arrow.
“Where did you find the dagger?” Aelinole repeated his question.
“Erg, damn me rotten luck. Darunia… gave it to me,” he crackled hoarsely.
“Where is she?” Roran growled having his fears confirmed.
“In the darn cave?”
“What cave?” Aelinole hissed and when he hesitated the ranger grabbed the arrow shaft and yanked it back and forth making him squeal in blinding pain.
“Arggh!” The man cried out at the abuse. “Up the cursed ravine! Shivers me timbers it hurts lass,” he complained and Roran stepped closer with a scowl.
“She gave you the dagger in a cave?” He rustled raspingly unable to fathom why Darunia would meet with that pathetic rascal in one, more so exchange gifts. The half-Issir blinked. “Why?” Roran growled.
“I know it may be sounding nefarious but—”
“I’m gonna kill him,” Aelinole decided forgetting what she had said moments earlier.
“Wait! What is dis unprovoked hostility?” The man complained with a pained grimace. “I didn’t harm a hair on her pretty head. She’s fine!”
“Why isn’t she with you?” Roran grunted trying to convince himself not to bury the dagger in the man’s face and finding no arguments against it.
“I… don’t know? She might have gone after the dog!”
Roran stood back narrowing his eyes.
“What dog?” Aelinole asked sounding confused. Roran eyed Wylinor instead knowingly. The ranger raised a curious brow.
“Patch him up,” Roran ordered. “He’ll take us there.”
“Eh,” the man groaned in protest. “I don’t think I can walk at all!”
Aelinole grabbed the bloody shaft again and he changed his tune immediately. “But I’ll do it for her though, aye,” he said reasonably pretending at bravery. “I sort of fancy her,” he added but seeing Roran’s jaw clenching, the man grimaced. “Like me mother, aye. A tall woman she was, Abrakas guide her sweet soul to safer shores.”
----------------------------------------
Wylinor extracted the arrow cutting the shaft near the wound and patched up the half-Issir’s wound again. A small key dropped down when the young ranger untied the old bandages to reuse them. The man tried to get the key but the ranger picked it up first.
“Now,” the injured human cautioned him. “Stealing ain’t a road ye should go down me lad.”
“It’s a cheap key,” Wylinor informed Roran, not bothering to answer him. “Roughly made.”
“Belonged to me family. An heirloom.”
Bullshit.
“Can you walk?” Roran grunted through his teeth.
“I’ve a bad foot,” the man replied. “I’ll slow ye down and ye may need to hurry.”
“Why is that?” Roran asked hoarsely and sheathed the dagger not to use it on him.
“There may or may not be, more broth’rs in the cave.”
“You have a brother…” Roran started raspingly.
“I do but not in the cave.”
“He means pirates,” Aelinole elucidated.
“Wicked pirates was my meaning,” he explained looking at her knowingly.
“Is there any other kind?” Aelinole retorted soberly not getting where the stranger was going with this.
Roran didn’t as well.
“Well… we could perhaps… discuss—”
“Is she in danger?” Roran grunted cutting his ramblings short. “You said you didn’t harm her not that long ago! You swore she was fine!”
“Now don’t be putting words in me mouth—”
A grim-faced Aelinole had gotten her shortsword out and that stopped him.
The half-Issir grimaced at his predicament. “Abrakas cursed me! I don’t know!” He finally protested in frustration. “Cats walking on me shadow! I had a lousy night and an even worse morning mate! I got beaten, tied up and robbed of me possessions! Betrayed by friends and left to die in the dark. Then she waltzed in the cave whilst I was trying to free meself with that god darn dog in tow!”
The man stopped breathing heavy and shook his head angry with himself, then breathed out tiredly. “I was picking up my stuff to escape but when I turned my head she was gone. Maybe after the others.”
“You stopped to pick up stuff while in danger?” Aelinole asked.
“I stand by me decision,” Twelve retorted setting his feet.
“Where is this place?” Roran grunted.
“I followed a ravine of sorts, it loops back to the city. There’s a cave entrance there it leads to an underground structure. The others went there to find more treasure.”
Looters. Pirates.
“How many?” Roran asked.
“Five. No… I… the dog got rid of Wyler. So four. Eh, three and a half if ye count the Gish.”
“What’s with the dog?”
“I have no idea where it came from.”
“Darunia went after the pirates?” Roran asked having difficulty believing his tale. He stared at Aelinole. “Is this Lord Sulynor’s work?” He asked in Imperial.
The ranger shrugged her shoulders. “He might have finished it. Used those dwarfs that worked for Edlenn to build him a vault. I was very young then.”
Roran was older but not as close to the Elderbloods to know the details. “Lord Sulynor left soon after. You think he kept supplies there for the exiles? Was it run by loyalists left behind?”
“I don’t know Roran. The sorcerers guard their stuff for sure, but this was more political.”
“Not if it involved the Moon’s daughter,” Roran argued. “They would have hidden everything they needed to start over.”
“Go where?” Aelinole asked.
“Maybe his mother was in on it after all,” Roran replied and glared at the half-Issir watching them talk. “What treasure? What did they find inside the vault?”
“Some gold. Tools. Weapons. But the place had been emptied from stuff to put the people in.”
“What people?” Aelinole asked and the half-Issir gulped down nervously.
“Yours mostly. I reckon they flocked there to protect themselves. Died in groups. Young and old. Humans, Zilan, Gish and dwarfs. The buildings are full of dead bodies,” he paused and then shrugged his shoulders. “Guess it may well be a mausoleum after all. I never went that far inside. Didn’t have to.”
“They may have found the entrance or some loyalist talked of a safe space seeing the catastrophe approaching,” Aelinole whispered her face pale. “Tried to protect themselves from the poison gasses.”
Roran nodded remembering Elwuin’s hypothesis.
“How big is the cave?”
“Huge,” the man replied. “Some of it natural, but some of it may be the work of smugglers.”
“They thought they would be safe but there was another entrance. Probably used to get things in and out the port undetected from the Queen’s people. They kept a lifeline open for the exiles, but it ended up dooming them all,” Roran rustled. Somewhere on Eplas though or someplace else the exiled Zilan had created a port to trade with the empire. “Wylinor go find Ayas. Inform him we have intruders. Bring the men to the beach.”
He turned to stare at the uncomfortable half-Issir. “You are going to take me there now.”
“Can I have the hat at least?” The man asked in a guarded manner.
Roran blinked unsure and then followed his pointing arm back to the boat. “It’s mine,” the Half-Issir explained.
----------------------------------------
Roran cleaned his Kopis with a thick piece of cloth, keeping his eyes on the pirate looting Zaine’s body. The gutted gory corpse had few clothes still usable but the half-Issir named Twelve took the fancy hat and the boots.
“I’m coming,” Aelinole informed him. “I know Darunia longer than you.”
Roran grimaced and then sheathed his blade. “No you don’t. I was on medical leave from the 2nd when her father joined. Olonelis had brought her along afore we were redeployed in Galadriel’s Watch.”
Aelinole made a face. “War stories Roran?”
Roran crooked his mouth but said nothing.
“I thought the Monarch had a truce with the pirates,” the ranger commented.
“Not the same pirates and I ain’t sure if I would call it that.”
“What does Anfalon say?”
“Trust but verify. The Monarch could be wrong,” Roran replied.
“Yeah, I don’t know about that,” Aelinole said uncomfortable. Roran stared in her face.
“He’s still a human Lin.”
“He probably knows more than you.”
“You wouldn’t say that…” Roran paused. “Had he ruled differently—”
“Not everything is about Berthas,” Aelinole cut him off.
“It is for you apparently.”
“Bah! Don’t start again,” she hissed with a glare. “You know nothing.”
“What more is there to know?” Roran retorted. “I’m not blind.”
Aelinole snorted and walked away frustrated, the half-Issir approaching now wearing a pair of boots and that hat. He limped the whole way.
“What happened to the foot?” Roran grunted still frustrated with the ranger.
“Needed something to entice a white-striped shark back in the day,” the man replied checking on his bandaged wound. “I harpooned that bastard but forgot to retrieve the foot from its mouth. It bit me right through, aye. Then again I ate his arse so we’re even.”
“Walk,” Roran rustled not believing him.
“What? I was fucking young!” He protested. “That spawn of a drunk Ticu clenched instead of screaming!”
The Hoplite shoved him forward. “Pray nothing happens to Darunia or you’ll scream plenty yourself,” he threatened and glanced at a sour-faced Aelinole following them.
Twenty minutes later and deep in the chestnut forest they stopped for him to rest. He had either been weakened by blood loss or was good at playing at it. Aelinole who had retrieved Darunia’s bag and clothes from the beach suggested they give him a health potion.
“We might need them,” Roran argued not wanting to waste one on the deceitful human.
“I can walk,” the man said not knowing what they were talking about but fearing the worst.
“We can spare one,” Aelinole insisted and got a vial out. The pirate eyed it with suspicion. “Drink this but sit down first,” she told him.
“What might this be lassie?”
“You call me that one more time and I’ll eat your face,” she hissed with a snarl.
‘Twelve’ blinked and took the vial. “The last thing that chewed on me flesh died soon after,” he warned the incredulous ranger and glugged down the potion. Blinked with the one eye making a strange face and then collapsed on the ground next to a tree. Roran gave him a light kick on the shoulder while Aelinole checked on his pulse.
“He’ll come about,” she told him. “I should had given him half perhaps. She was always vague on the dose needed for humans.”
“That’s a strange detail to know,” Roran hissed and Aelinole got up with a frown. She tossed the empty vial in Darunia’s leather bag and looked at his scowling face.
“He wasn’t human.”
“I’m aware.”
Aelinole nodded and turned her eyes away. She stared at the peaceful trees for a moment.
“I didn’t want to like him Roran,” the ranger finally said and Roran grimaced not really wanting to listen to that. “I fought with myself and prayed Darunia will charm him away.”
“She failed?” Roran asked before he could control his tongue.
“He wasn’t easy to charm and her heart wasn’t in it I guess,” Aelinole replied reminiscing. “Ebe had a silver tongue and he was gifted.”
Roran stooped to slap the pirate awake so they could move on.
“You need to hear this,” Aelinole said behind his back.
“Why?” Roran grunted.
“So you can move on.”
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Roran got up with a scowl. “You want me to move on? Stop talking about it,” he rustled.
“It’s your character,” Aelinole said softly taking him by surprise. “You never let go. Be it old comrades or lovers. Some tasks we just fail through no fault of our own Roran. Some shots we’re bound to miss, whilst others are much more difficult to avoid.”
Roran stood back and clenched his jaw. The pirate groaned and woke up near his feet looking worse for wear.
“I don’t want to hear this,” Roran rustled. “You’re free to do whatever you want.”
“I knew it the moment I touched him,” Aelinole continued. “Our threads joined for this was a future that was written. A future needed. The right path. I heard Berthas’ cry. Our lines were bound to connect and be preserved. His as well.”
Roran sighed. That rascal had probably ‘preserved’ his line with plenty of half-breed offspring on both continents.
“When he returns…” Aelinole said and Roran stopped her with a grimace.
“He’s never coming back Lin. When you love someone you don’t run away with the loot or to save your skin,” he explained and wanted to say more but seeing her hurting face and feeling her grief decided not to. “I understand he could have been forced to do it not to hurt you. It was a messy affair. There are a few stories written about him by the way.”
“How do you know?”
“I asked the humans.”
“What do the stories say?”
“Some truths some lies. Good lies,” Roran replied and looked away. “He’s dead.”
Aelinole nodded. “I’ll scout ahead,” she told him breathlessly.
“I’m still your friend Lin,” Roran said on her back. “For what is worth I understand.”
The ranger paused and then gathered her braided hair in a tight bun, she covered with a square green kerchief that was part of her field attire. “And I yours Roran of Saeveril,” Aelinole replied and walked away.
“Abrakas pissed in me rum,” the man croaked coming to stand next to him. “I had a sweet port-wench like that back in Ta-Ne. Gave me the fits,” he reminisced fondly watching the ranger disappearing up a tree, as if they were gonna bond and share stories all of a sudden. “But she be fierce and wild in the sack—”
“Move!” Roran growled menacingly cutting him off mid-sentence. “And don’t say another word.”
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Two hours later they reached the entrance of the cave. The rock had cracked above it, the opening widened towards the small rocky ledge and the floods washing mud down the sheer slopes of the ravine. While vegetation had reached it, the shrubbery looked sickly or damaged and there was a bad smell of decay coming out of the cave.
“Much of the structure is still flooded inside. A cold and dark sinister place,” the pirate warned him.
“How many dead?” Roran rustled watching Aelinole sneaking up closer to the entrance.
“Over a hundred that I could see.”
Rain-Minas had a lot more people living up on the main plateau.
“It seems not everyone died there,” he murmured and reached for a branch extending over his head. They were standing on the small path leading up towards the caves. Another three openings near the bigger one that Roran could see. The trees hanging from the top above, roots and branches spilling down the lip of the Rain-Minas plateau. He cut the branch and straighten it out cleaning it with his dagger quickly. Roran made a small quarterstaff out of it, a crude crooked weapon with an even cruder point about two meters in length.
“Where do ye think they went?”
“The Peninsula?” Roran retorted with a shrug and got up seeing Aelinole signing for him to approach. The ranger had moved near a small grouping of peanut trees with its cross-shaped red fruits and thick leaves.
“Don’t think they made it there mate,” the pirate replied and Roran gestured for him to keep silent hearing voices coming from the cave.
“I might need a—” Roran sheathed the dagger and grabbed him by the throat. It made the half-Issir turn quiet finally.
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“Just empty the motherfucker Captain,” a man protested. “He keeps tossing stuff out.”
“We’re getting the chest out Abrix,” the ‘Captain’ replied, another man adding.
“I can drag it myself easy, just keep him away.”
“I’m not comfortable with this arrangement,” ‘Abrix’ was heard again. “Wyler doesn’t look right. I’m with the Zilan in this and it pains me to say it,” the whiney man added, Darunia’s voice coming next.
“Why? I had a Gish friend once. We had great fun,” she said dreamily but sounding alright and Roran breathed out in relief, rushing across the opening.
“Yeah? What happened to him?” Abrix queried.
Don’t answer that, Roran urged the unseen healer.
In vain as Darunia did.
“Turlas ate him.”
“Abrakas arse!” Another man cursed. “Why?”
“He was a Wyvern?”
Roran grimaced and then he reached the entrance of the cave covered in a sheen of sweat.
“What was that?” The Captain asked and the Hoplite leader heard a dog’s bark just as he was about to enter the dark interior.
“It’s that dog again.”
“Mayhap it can find us another chest?”
“Where is it going?” Abrix asked sounding spooked and Roran peeked inside. He had to wait a moment for his eyes to adjust but spotted the group of pirates dragging a large metallic box and several leather bags packed with loot towards him. Darunia following after them with arms crossed over her chest either because she was cold or out of modesty as the Healer had left the beach half-naked.
Knowing humans and their lack of self-control, Roran decided there must be a lot of loot in those bags not to assault her. Or she went in prepared and charmed them all.
With such a large group this wouldn’t last.
“Wyler don’t empty the chest,” the man with the parrot on his shoulder grunted. “We’ll do it back on the ship mate.”
“I told you this isn’t him,” Darunia said. “Can’t be.”
The dog barked looking towards Roran, who paused unsure on how to handle the situation. If he startled them, they could snap out of the Healer’s influence and this could turn ugly fast. There was also something off about the dog. It didn’t give him any response or emotion back when he attempted to reach out to it. Just emptiness. Roran wished the ranger was nearer as Aelinole was much more skilled and could connect with it. Was it an old injury the animal had suffered? He wondered just as the scene inside the cave turned weird.
“The fuck did he go?” a half-breed asked, skin a ghostly grey and the dog stopped barking. A cold breeze touching Roran’s sweaty skin in passing. The walls of the cave coming alive as shades danced when the torches flickered responding to the breeze. The shades whispering all at once, the cave full of dead souls rushing to get their final message across through the cracks in reality’s fabric.
A foul smell reaching Roran’s nostrils amidst all the pleas, the screams of agony and prayers of many souls dying in the guts of a ruined city. Someone had used dark magic, but it wasn’t magic Roran had encountered afore in his long life. It reminded him of the rituals used by the Aken Elders he had fought in his youth but also tasted differently.
Instead of the bitter flavor of decayed bones, the Zilan recognized the tang of iron and blood.
Then the whispers went away and the cave turned silent again.
“We need to get out of here,” Darunia said sounding spooked and Roran stepped inside the cave deciding he couldn’t wait any longer.
“Captain,” Abrix tried to say, a very short man, not bigger than a kid. That’s the Gish, Roran thought.
“Shut it Abrix!” The Captain snapped. “Close yer fucking mouth! Everyone move! The entrance is right there by Abrakas—”
He stopped abruptly seeing the Hoplite barring their way, backlit and menacing.
The half-breed dropped the sack he was carrying down, spilling some of its contents. A silver candelabra, a couple of gold goblets, various platinum utensils and some good blades in them. The Gish stepped away from the light towards the wall of the cave and the large Nord-looking half-breed let go of the chest with a loud rattle.
“Blow me down!” The Captain cursed and reached for a heavy blade he had strapped on his dark blue waistband. “What are ye?”
“Roran!” Darunia panted afore the Hoplite could reply. “They are pirates!”
The Captain grimaced and eyed the healer. “Now, I don’t know where yer going wit this lass, but ye better stay quiet.”
Roran pointed the quarterstaff at Darunia. “Let her through,” he told the Captain in Common. “Or perish.”
The grey-skinned pirate, his hair hidden under a black bandana, crooked his mouth and then spat on the ground afore getting a cutlass out. The tall pirate reaching for a custom axe on his back. The Gish was backing away towards the healer and Roran warned him with a glare to stay put.
“I sense a certain hostility,” the Captain said tapping the tip of his pointing down blade at the side of his tall leather boots. “Lonesome dude holding a stick. Word of advice. Perhaps ye should be more careful in yer wording?”
“Let me put it another way,” Roran retorted clenching his jaw and stepped forward to close the distance between them. “Throw your weapons down, leave the bags and walk out or die.”
The pirate captain pressed his wrinkled lips together.
“Yer counter offer sounds worse me lad,” he said disappointed. “Let me make ye a better one. Adam, Reyson, cut this fool down,” the Lorian said soberly and tossed a torch he was holding in his hand towards Roran.
Adam started circling towards him immediately just as the Hoplite smacked the torch away. Reyson coming at Roran at a straight line and the captain following after him. The tall pirate reached him first and went to swing that long-shafted axe but Roran stabbed the quarterstaff at his chest shoving him back. The reinforced gambeson Reyson had on saving him from a worse injury.
The tall pirate groaned and Adam rushed Roran from his left side. He slashed with the cutlass but Roran stepped back and smacked him with the staff below the left ear. It send the half-breed twirling with a pained grunt and the Hoplite used the space to switch hands on the staff. The now freed right hand got his Kopis out.
“Right,” the captain said with a grimace. “What are ye a weapon’s savant?”
“He’s a hoplite,” Darunia said from the back. “You shouldn’t fight him.”
Roran eyed the grinning healer frustrated and the captain came at him swinging that heavy blade of his. The hoplite parried it away with his forward-curved sword and smacked the man’s shoulder with the staff sending the scared parrot flying away.
“Shit!” The bird croaked hitting the ceiling of the cave and crashing down.
“A Ticu’s bloomin’ tits,” the captain groaned stepping away from the staff’s reach. “Now the bloody thing talks!”
“Darunia, for the love of the Goddess,” Roran grunted at the trying to see to the injured bird healer. “Get out of the cave!”
“Rush him,” The captain ordered and Adam stooped to pick up a harpoon from their bags afore coming towards him again. Reyson and the captain moving at the same time.
Roran was worried about the Gish more. The sneaky creature had disappeared.
And then the harpoon as it more than matched his crude staff’s reach.
----------------------------------------
Roran moved against the coming Reyson to put a body between him and the flanking Adam. The bulky pirate heaved the axe in a wide arc parallel to the ground, brandishing it with both arms and the Hoplite ducked under the axe, sinking on his left knee. The blade skidded on shoulder plates, shaving the back of his helm and Roran jumped upright slotting the staff between Reyson’s arms like a corkscrew. A shove and turn forced the bulky pirate’s arms to lock together, Roran guiding him towards the captain. The captain stepped aside to circle around and Roran smacked the thrusting harpoon away with a backhand, the hook grazing the armbrace.
He pivoted after running the Kopis across Reyson’s upper hip cutting through the gambeson’s padding. Roran let go of the staff as the tall pirate faltered away losing his axe and bleeding down his pants. The Hoplite sidestepped to avoid a spear thrust through the gut, snapping his sword-wielding arm forward to rattle Adam who almost lost the harpoon when the tip of Roran’s blade opened his exposed forearm.
“Arggh!” Adam growled and retreated bleeding from his good arm, Roran moving to attack the now isolated near the wall older captain, the cold inside the cave cooling his flushed skin. The heavily armoured Roran made two nibble steps dancing right and left, shoulders bent forward at an angle like his head and then leaped with his right arm pulled back, the blade leading like a coiled wasp, hilt touching the side of the Hoplite’s elongated helm briefly.
The arm snapped forward brutally just afore he landed, the Kopis curved blade plunging straight at the target and breaking the captain’s last minute guard. That is first the blade, then the wrist that couldn’t withstand the impact and dipped under the man’s right shoulder cutting through the mail. A savage heave and the sharp blade punched right through, shattering the clavicle bone and exited out the back in an explosion of gore that sprayed the wall of the cave.
“Gaargh!” The captain gurgled biting his tongue and put his left hand on the sword to grasp at the blade, losing thumb and parts of mid and index finger when Roran yanked it out of the cavernous wound, warm blood splashing his helm. The Captain faltered back seriously maimed and Roran twisted around hearing Darunia’s gasp of horror.
But he wasn’t moving right.
“Ugh,” Roran grunted stopping, the left lower part of his back and arm numbing. Something dribbling down his tunic and leg. He reached with a groan using his free hand and found a dagger stuck there, the blade slipping through the plate’s bindings. An assassin’s backstab. Roran extracted it slowly, feeling steel grazing a rib and saw a shade forming a mouth not a meter from him.
“How far to Gwann-Ihug?” The mouth asked in Archaic Imperial, a nose forming out of the shades, a chin sporting a thin goatee and then the face of a man with a horrific wound on the right side of his mostly Lorian face.
“What?” Roran grunted and slashed at him with the sword but the sneaky creature stepped back. The Hoplite lost his footing and went down on a knee.
“Eh, I had to even the odds,” the man said and retreated towards the entrance of the cave. “I’ve seen your kind before.”
“Roran!” Darunia cried, hopefully staying away from the scrap.
Get up soldier, he ordered himself.
Walk it through.
“You’re not getting out of here,” Roran spat and pushed himself upright, an eye on the approaching pirates.
“I’m already out,” the man replied and hefted a bag he carried over his left shoulder. “I just needed my bones.”
Uh?
With that he walked out of the cave and a hurting Roran had to turn towards the couple coming at him with renewed courage. Reyson wielding a cutlass instead of his axe this time.
“Leave him! He’s injured!” Darunia screamed at the two pirates and Roran roared to silence her.
“Told you to get out Nia. By Allgods, you’re not helping!”
“I can’t leave you!” She screamed back and he hadn’t seen her so frustrated before.
“Do that jump again,” Adam taunted him, looking to strike from a distance. “And I’ll spear ye like a—”
The rest of it a gurgled indecipherable mess lost in the sound of his broken body tumbling two meters back and falling on the still burning torch the Captain had dropped earlier. Roran had hurled the Kopis at him with such force the sharpened steel broke through the sternum bone, ruined the lungs and exited between Adam’s shoulder blades. The pirate had a hardened leather shirt on but Roran had once punched his spear a foot in solid rock.
Granted he wasn’t injured back then so the Kopis’ only dipped into the pirate’s chest to the hilt this time.
“Eh,” Reyson gasped in horror and swung at the approaching Hoplite. Roran dodged with a grimace of pain feeling a rib moving funny in his innards, used the tip of his boot to lift the discarded axe and snatched the shaft with his right hand mid-air.
Reyson twisted about to find the angle and slashed again, his blade striking the angling chest plate and carving its polished surface as the Hoplite dodged the attack. Roran flipped the axe upside down afore retaliating. He got the desperately trying to pull back pirate between the legs, butchering his genitals and then stepped aside when Reyson doubled over with a desperate cry of agony to cleave the head clean off of his body.
“Fuck! Ant’s bollock… in them sands!” The injured captain cursed seeing him limping towards him with the bloody axe in his hands.
“Enough killing Roran, let me see it,” Darunia pleaded stepping in front of him and Roran got her out of his way with a grunt and the gore-covered shaft of the axe.
“Ye shall pay for this,” the captain snarled trying to stand, his arms ruined and bleeding heavily. “Me crew shall hunt ye murdering arse down!”
“Stop talking fool!” Darunia admonished him, but it was too late for the injured captain. Roran had given them the chance to walk away and they had chosen to stay.
Fight him to the death.
“Step aside,” Roran ordered the healer hoarsely and swung the axe again.
So death they found.
----------------------------------------
Roran woke up smelling flesh burning and hurting both at his ribs and the back of his head. He blinked to clear his blurring eyes and felt nibble hands working on the wound. His sweaty torso naked, a shoulder touching the ground of the cave and soft curls teasing his face.
“I need my bag,” Darunia whispered through the haze. “Moss will help but this is nasty.”
“Earg,” Roran grunted ineligibly and tried to stand up.
“Don’t,” Darunia ordered and pressed him back down. “Give me a moment.”
“The Gish,” Roran growled.
“He ran away,” she replied and cleaned the cut with a piece of cloth. “Deeper into the cave.”
“There was…” Roran blinked again and tried to stand, but paused seeing her worried face. “It didn’t go in that deep,” he reassured her.
“By the Gods Roran,” Darunia complained and wiped her eyes. “How is that a good thing?”
It could have hit the liver?
“You are safe. It’s all that matters,” Roran replied simply and felt warm hands on his face a moment afore she touched him. The haziness dissipating and his mind reacting without panic at the intrusion. Silky immaterial threads feeling their way inside his soul unsure and hopeful. All the doors opening up for her. The female scent familiar but also different. Roran breathed into her mouth, pointy fangs trapping his lower lip and piercing the skin. The blood mixing and the passion increasing tenfold.
“Darunia,” he croaked breaking the start of the mating spell and she pulled back with a gasp, her gorgeous face flushed. “It’s alright,” Roran told her angry with himself. “It happens after a battle and tasting fear can—”
The healer had stopped him placing her bloody palm on his lips.
“I see shades of you in other males,” she whispered behind a blue curtain and Roran felt his anger melting away. “Some of it here, other parts there. Some of you but not all and my heart knows it,” Darunia continued and glanced at him. “I want it all or nothing. So I move on.”
Allgods.
She got up and wiped her face with the back of her hand.
“Wyler was dead when I left him,” Darunia said trying to hide her frustration. “He used magic but didn’t burn anything. No medium. All blood.”
A numb Roran nodded and winced getting up on his feet, a hand on his bandaged wound. He needed stitches and a very cold bath.
“I’d like the opportunity to explain myself,” he croaked and she offered him the Kopis back, hilt first.
“There’s nothing to explain,” Darunia said. “I know your heart Roran of Saeveril,” she added sadly.
And now I know yours.
Roran heard Aelinole’s voice from outside the cave and flinched. Darunia raised a cobalt eyebrow and it reminded him of her mother at that point.
The thought of facing Olonelis raising his anxiety.
“What am I supposed to do now?” He asked her and the healer sighed deeply. She stooped and grabbed a dagger from the ground. It was the one he’d given her.
“I’ll never put that burden on you silly,” Darunia finally said with a small smile. “Let’s go see if she’s in trouble.”
----------------------------------------
“Roran, sweet Goddess’ veils!” Aelinole snapped seeing him getting out of the cave. “You were supposed… hey, Darunia. Nice outfit. He’s bleeding,” the keen-eyed ranger said changing her tone with every new detail she spotted.
“I need my bag Aelinole,” Darunia replied stiffly.
“Wow. I’ll just thank myself then. It’s here, your bag,” the ranger said and walked back a couple of meters to show her. Roran spotted the body of Wyler lying twenty meters from the entrance. It had four arrows in him, two in his good eye, another through the neck and one buried in his back to the fletching. Aelinole had nailed him with a power shot. “He didn’t stop,” she explained seeing his stare and then turned to Darunia.
“Are you alright? We were worried!”
“You’re screaming Aelinole,” Darunia replied looking in her medical bag. “I’m missing a vial.”
“I had to use it… eh, I’m not screaming by the way. Don’t scare me like this you dork!”
“I just followed the dog,” Darunia replied and dug a vial out of the bag. She offered it to Roran and he took it, his eyes on the lifeless corpse of Wyler.
“Couldn’t you put some more clothes on?” the ranger asked with a wince. “Or underwear? There’s people around.”
“Nothing you hadn’t seen before. We’re far from strangers,” Darunia replied getting a ruffled tunic out, but paused to think about it. “At this moment.”
“Where’s the pirate?” Roran asked steering the conversation away.
“He got away while I dealt with this creep,” Aelinole replied. “Haven’t seen a living thing take an arrow to the eye and not scream or groan. Tough son of a bitch, no pun intended.”
“What did he look like?” Darunia asked.
“He had your dagger and walked with a limp,” Roran replied avoiding her eyes.
“Horace,” Darunia said.
“He said his name was Twelve,” Aelinole hissed and looked about them for any sign of the sneaky pirate.
“That was the name of the dog,” the Healer explained and shouldered her bag.
Roran was still examining Wyler’s corpse, the healing potion burning his stomach and gnawing at his wound from the inside.
“What is it?” Aelinole asked and touched his naked shoulder comfortingly.
Roran stood up not wanting the familiarity that came and went depending on her mood and she pulled her arm back a little surprised realizing the change in him.
“He carried a bag,” Roran rustled and looked at the silent Darunia.
“There were old bones in the chest,” the healer told them. “Wyler got them out as his payment.”
“What’s the value of bones to a pirate? Were they dipped in gold?” Aelinole asked with a glare at the scowling Roran.
“A chemical solution of sorts and gold,” Darunia replied. “But I could be wrong.”
“He wasn’t a pirate,” Roran said hoarsely and grimaced. “Aelinole you father served both… I guess all Monarchs. What’s does ‘Perished Serpent’ mean? The word spoken adjoined in the old tongue.”
The ranger stood back with a frown. “I haven’t heard or read about it.”
“It’s an old Aken saying,” Darunia replied and came to stand over the dead pirate. “A perished serpent is still dangerous. A cautionary tale and probably a real place. An island in the Round Sea they are not supposed to go. Where did you hear about it?”
Roran pointed an arm at Wyler’s corpse. “I’d like another talk with Horace. Let’s head for the beach.”
“Can you walk?” Darunia asked, concern in her voice.
“For miles,” Roran replied staring at the ranger who’d caught the weird vibes between them. Aelinole pursed her mouth, fixed the bowstring over her chest and shouldered a bag with old weapons Roran had brought out of the cave.
“I’ll scout ahead,” the ranger said evenly and walked past him.
“We shouldn’t make a big deal out of it,” Darunia offered and Roran sighed, since it was a big deal for him.
“She knows,” he replied raspingly and started after the moving fast ranger.
----------------------------------------
Ayas was waiting for them at the docks, Malon observing the Othrim rolling down the sloped path in full battle gear. Gorwin rushed to approach Aelinole the moment he saw her coming out of the chestnut woods.
Roran paused at the edge of it, the sun burning over the beach to catch his breath.
“I can handle myself,” Darunia commented seeing the army gathering. “Violence is not the answer to everything Roran.”
“I agree,” Roran replied and she used a cloth to wipe the beads of sweat from his face. Her typical ministrations holding a different meaning now. “But these weren’t good people Darunia.”
“There are very few truly good people,” she told him and pulled away seeing Aquilan with Ayas approaching at an energetic trot.
“Second Leader. Doc,” Ayas saluted. “I report no sign of pirates or humans sir!”
“At ease Ayas,” Roran rustled. “Did you check on the fishermen docks?”
“We did Roran. Nothing was found but four looted bodies.”
“How looted?”
“Thoroughly.”
“The boat?”
“There was no boat sir,” Ayas assured him.
The lame rat ran, Roran thought with a grimace. “Post sentries at the docks. Search the forest just in case. I want a twenty man strong detail issued with shovels to secure some caves. See they bury any corpses or remains found in there.”
“Pirates sir?”
“Our own as well. Citizens long left unburied,” Roran retorted dryly. “The army shall provide the dignity denied to them Hoplite.”
Ayas nodded, cast a look at the barefooted Darunia, her smile disarming him, then turned around and trotted away towards the gathered rows of the Othrim. Roran stared at the waiting Aquilan perturbed.
“Something more hoplite?” He asked standing up straighter despite the pain gnawing at his sides.
“A message arrived from Lo-Minas Roran,” the Hoplite replied steadily. “It relayed orders straight from Goras concerning the Othrim. Nigh urgent sir.”
Darunia’s fingers touched his arm softly.
“What are the orders about?” Roran asked with a grimace as he’d been with the army for long enough to know when you are about to be shipped away. Aquilan gave him the decoded missive and Roran opened the scroll to read Lord Onas orders.
“Onas assumes responsibility?”
“That’s above my pay grade sir,” the Hoplite leader replied.
That’s a yes.
“Thank you Aquilan. You’re dismissed,” Roran said hoarsely.
“What does Lord Onas want?” Darunia asked solemnly and Roran turned his head towards the peaceful shores of Rain-Minas and stared at the calm sea. The summer’s breeze reached him, blew on his sweaty tanned face and cooled his short-shorn washed-out blue hair.
I needed a bit of time Goddess, he thought. To put everything in order.
Make things right afore it's too late.
“These aren’t the old Lord’s orders,” Roran told her and turned to stare at her familiar face. Damn it Doc. Even worried you are pretty as a picture. “It’s the Monarch’s. He wants us aboard the ships as soon as they reach us.”
“Where are they coming from?”
Roran glanced at the cerulean deep waters. “The Peninsula,” he said reminiscing.
> ‘Have you ever seen a true Cofol gal dance at a festival Roran?’ A beaming Theodas asked a younger Roran busy cleaning his new steel helm. “Not even Mori-Zilan can move like they do,” the Hoplite leader jested showing him the moves. ‘But while there’s treasure and fame everlasting beyond the sea nothing comes close to the laurels that would be bestowed upon those that free the jewel city of Sibara!’
“Where is he sending you?” Darunia asked in a softer tone.
“Fu De-Gar,” Roran replied. “As soon as the ships arrive.”
“What’s there?” Darunia asked although she knew.
Roran thought he heard a ship’s watch mast bell ringing, the sound carrying above the waves.
Provide much needed assistance, Garth had ordered vaguely through Lord Onas. Keep the ports open for the Empire.
“War,” he replied gravely.
-
> Horace had hurt his back pushing the darn loaded boat in the waters. Having to row and steer at the same time not helping him at all. So he got drenched in sweat under the unforgiving sun right after the ‘loaned’ clothes on his back dried up. The salt burning his eyes despite the shade of his loyal hat and his weathered skin enflamed not twenty minutes into the rowing.
>
> The dog closed the one eye and then opened it again. The other a pure white. It smacked its black lips, thick saliva dripping down and then snorted once at his scrutiny.
>
> “What do you need them bones for huh? Remember how ye got sick when you chewed on that first one? See what happened to Wyler? Not natural, hmm?” Horace asked the dog standing across from him in the large boat.
>
> ‘Piece of Twelve’ barked twice and shook its head.
>
> “Alright have it yer own way. Not judging,” Horace grunted and turned his head towards the still unseen ship, a nervous look at the position of the sun following right after. ‘You make a mistake here,’ he thought, ‘ye end up rowing until you reach the middle of the Haze Sea and then it’s the darn give-shark-a-foot debacle all over again.’
>
> “You could’ve helped me a bit more back in the cave, just throwing it out there,” he told the dog sourly. “Or been more open about how you made it out in the first place. Give trust to receive it is my meaning.”
>
> The dog barked once angry reading through his bullshit.
>
> “You were too injured to carry out and heavy. Barely breathing,” Horace reminded the stubborn animal not willing to take all the blame upon his shoulders. ‘Spread the blame’, he always cautioned himself. “I had to get some coin back to help the crew. I made an executive decision all gods darnit! Hey, I came back though in the blooming end, so we are even.”
>
> Thirty years later but still, it’s the thought that fucking counts.
>
> Even if he hadn’t thought about the dog once in the meantime.
>
> “It’s the darn bones right? What’s in them?” Horace asked and heard a yelp coming from the port side of the boat. “Ye heard that?”
>
> The dog barked twice.
>
> “Did it sounded…?” Horace started and then he saw the Gish’s washed out pink and black head bobbing in and out of the waters.
>
> “HELP!” the Gish cried waving his small arm. “The waves are too big!”
>
> Horace stopped rowing and stooped over the side of the boat.
>
> “Fuck do ye want ye piece of shite?”
>
> “To come wit you!” Abrix protested.
>
> “I don’t want ye traitor arse!” Horace blasted him. “Fucking ruffian. Go away!”
>
> “I can’t make it back!” The Gish protested. “You’re doomin’ a friend!”
>
> “Oh fuck off, you’re a plaguing Gish!”
>
> “I hate swimming!” Abrix screamed desperately and Horace groaned in frustration. He stared at the dog and the dog stared back at him. “What do you think?” Horace asked the scruffy animal.
>
> The one-eyed dog looked at the oars.
>
> Yeah.
>
> “Fine, I’ll save you,” Horace relented and stooped to grab the Gish’s arm. He helped him out of the water, almost toppling the boat in the process.
>
> “What’s the dog doing here?” Abrix asked when he stopped shaking from the exertion.
>
> “Dog comes along,” Horace explained as he still wanted to find out what was the deal with the ancient and many times revived animal. “We’re family right?”
>
> The Gish nodded unsure at first but then with more enthusiasm.
>
> “Good,” Horace said and gave him the oars. “You row, I’ll steer,” he added meaningfully.
>
> “Wait, why do I get to row?” Abrix protested over the loud barks of ‘Twelve’ who wanted them to get moving again. “I’m three times smaller than ye and exhausted!”
>
> ‘Trickster’, born Horacius Burton by a married Lesian Sailor fooling around with an Issir harlot half a century ago, crooked his lined mouth in a smirk and then replied brusquely much as it was expected from a man with his particular sensitivities.
>
> “I don’t give a drowned rat’s arse.”
>
>
>