Novels2Search
Rubber Banding
Eighteen, The beginning, part three.

Eighteen, The beginning, part three.

Nothing can ever go right unless you expect it to go horribly wrong and at that point, you’ll at least be pleasantly surprised.

Thunder.

The light rain is gone, replaced by what Arvi is calling the last rain of the season, a well-known storm that occurs at the very end of the rainy season. With the storm the last of the summer’s heat is replaced by ice-cold rain, after this it’s snow or nothing.

The carts have been stopped for close to an hour by now, a line of people in between us and the massive walls of Falden. Something’s wrong but I’m not sure what, Arvi and Oliver are quiet but assure me that everything should be fine or else there’s be more panicking among the line. It’s eerie watching what has to be a thousand people while they ignore the rain carrying everything they can by hand.

So few have wagons or even animals, I was told horses were somewhat expensive and rare but they can’t all be so poor they can’t use something to relieve the burden. What few wagons or carts don’t have anything of value, just more people, some don’t look like they can move very well but the rest are old.

These are refugees, it takes a moment for me to recognize something I didn’t think could happen in a medieval society but that’s got to be it. The obvious question is what they’re seeking refuge from. I don’t know much about the danger this world poses but I know for a fact that war isn’t likely.

I’ve asked more than once and outside of a few skirmishes with rebellions there are no active wars, haven’t been for close to a hundred years. The real danger comes from monsters and the odd bandit group but even those shouldn’t be able to displace so many people. Oliver has mentioned that there are a few things worse than monsters but those are too rare to even consider.

A guard is moving from cart to cart with a clipboard, he ignores the freestanding people even when they start begging him to open the gates. After a while, he reaches the back of the line, to us.

“Cargo?”

Arvi answers.

“Enchanted weapons, forged ingots.”

The guard looks up from his clipboard and I see his face through the rain, sunken eyes with a ring of bags. He looks younger than me almost, but his eyes are just dead like he’s lost all hope for what he does. It’s haunting.

“Blacksmith rating?”

Oliver pushes past and holds out a small medallion.

“Master.”

The man’s eyes light up and he quickly pulls out a small object from a front pouch handing it to Arvi.

“Cut the line and head straight for the gate. Show the emblem and they tell you where to put the goods from there.”

We do as we’re told. I’m glad I can hide in the back because I’d break if I could see the people outside begging us to take them with. A woman shouts for us to take her child. We don’t stop until we’re well past the gates. An audible crack sounds as the heavy metal doors close and I’m forced to focus on the rain, ignoring the scream that followed us.

Guards in their armor are running in every direction; the only people speaking are those issuing commands to the runners. We park the horses outside of a building connected with the walls, a tall flag pole sits outside the door the colors unknown to me. Arvi talks briefly with one of the people who was shouting orders before handing Oliver a small crate another guard brought over. Arvi leaves with the man while Oliver and I start passing crates to a line of guards that has formed at the back of the cart.

After a minute or two the guards are gone and it’s just me and Oliver, he looks like he wants to say something but every time he goes to speak he stops himself. He’s trying to look calm but I can tell that the water on his face is sweat, not rain. We wait for what feels like an hour before Arvi comes back, he’s soaked but what has me eyeing him cautiously is the thick leather armor and sword holstered on his belt.

He sits next to us silently working up the courage to tell us what’s going on.

“It’s Nomads they say, a few villages are already gone.”

Oliver’s expression darkens.

“Hells help us, you plan on going back, don’t you?

You know they won’t let the cart back out right, gonna be lucky if they let just you out.”

Arvi looks at Oliver and the older man just shakes his head, Arvi almost looks like he’s begging.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“I’m sorry son, these bones can hardly swing a hammer anymore if I try to fight I’m not gonna be any help.

Take the kid, he don’t react to magic, they might slip up around him.”

Arvi takes a deep breath, and as it releases he’s holding a dagger toward me, I take it silently. Oliver was right they won’t let the cart through so we have to take the horses even though we don’t have saddles. The guards are moving around less as a new group starts showing up. Mages most of them, but others carry normal weapons not one is wearing the same armor some are just in clothes uncaring of the rain. I spot a man looking in my direction as we start to leave, his eye widen when we meet gazes but he doesn’t move after me. His shoulder has a crude black shield tattoo on it.

“You’ve never ridden before, right?”

I nod.

“Hold the neck like you’ll die if you let go because you will.”

I reach around the red-scaled neck until my fingers interlock on the other side, Avri glances at me, nods, and then we’re moving. The rain suddenly feels like shards of glass in a hurricane, my eyes snap shut. I hazard a glance at our surroundings and in the brief seconds before I’m blinded I can see that Arvi wasn’t joking. His horse's legs are a blur and I can’t spot anything resembling a landmark as we move, if getting to the city took us a day it’ll take a few hours at most to get back. We have to be going over a hundred miles an hour.

I can smell smoke.

—{}{}{}{}{}—

Arvi.

Please, please be okay.

My mana pulses and I feed it to the horses, they greedily accept it and we speed up further. Xavier is still right beside me, the horses were trained to never split up, that's the only reason he wasn’t left behind.

Don’t know enough about the Nomads but they’re picky and need a lot of resources to keep going, other villages were attacked but with how close we are to the Scar we shouldn’t be a target. The wall will stop them if they do get close, without me it’d be closed and locked until we got back. Most of the villagers can fight, Calan can use magic better than me, they can hold until I get there.

What else?

Blood.

A woman and her child are lifeless on the path ahead, not from the village.

Anna! She knows how to sense foreign mana! The second someone got close she’d set the whole place on alert and they’d have plenty of time to barricade. Xavier, he can’t be seen by magic, if I have him sneak in I can go around and target the leaders, that should give those inside enough time to regroup if things got really bad.

“I can smell smoke.”

It’s like a whisper in this storm but I hear it loud and clear, my mana pulses again.

Of course there’s smoke! If they got attacked the enemy would have no choice but to smoke people out, we built those houses fireproof and it’s raining. Don’t care if they used magic or not ain’t shit lighting those things on fire. The walls not so much but then that’s their problem, not ours.

I can see it now, the walls have a line running around them, the circuit was broken. I see blood, lots of it.

Old instincts are kicking in, memories I wanted to forget, needed to forget. I stop the horses inside the forest, no point in getting spotted by an archer.

“What now?”

Xavier asks, he’s holding the dagger so tight his knuckles are a bright white. He’s shaking.

“We move, quietly.

Smoke will hide us somewhat but stay low. Find the girls and meet me back here, if I don’t come back after twenty minutes, leave.”

“Wait, if I'm getting Anna and Emma what are you doing?”

“Hopefully getting the others, if not, avenging them.

If things are bad I’ll try to give you a distraction but if it comes to that just grab them and run.”

We’re about to part but Xavier calls out to me.

“Thanks, for everything.”

—{}{}{}{}{}—

Unknown.

They left.

They fucking left!

We’re fucked if some Nomad tribe gets his ass! I jump away from the crowd running back to the headquarters, if I’m lucky the clerk will still be there. I can’t exactly leave during an attack without telling someone, as much as I’d love to do so.

She’s there and very startled to see me, she’s starting to sweat from the tension.

“My target left the town, my obligation is to the contract, I’m leaving town, notify the guard.”

She nods her head. The walls only slow me a little but I’m cursing every second I’m not following. Luckily horse trails are easy to follow when they’re moving against an evacuating crowd. It takes time but I find where their trail separates from the worn and muddy path, they’re going back to the village, heroic idiots.

Nomads aren’t something you go back to stop, if you get lucky enough to be inside a town's walls when they attack you stay inside those walls. Nomads are vicious but they're not stupid, the town will take damage but I don’t expect the surrounding villages to last very long. Then again they aren’t exactly normal.

High hopes for the village I guess, there’s a reason we lock down towns though, not like a dedicated group couldn’t punch through the walls. Just not worth the effort.

I find him just as he separates from the big guy, from the looks of it he plans on sneaking in. I could force a fight but from what I can see at the tree tops tells me that won’t be necessary.

I can already see bodies.