He hit the pool of water and sank to the bottom like a rock, his padded steel armor dragging him down. He thrashed and screamed out bubbles; sucked water and squirming gluck down his throat as he struggled to the surface...
The pain in his guts started the next night. A shot of rotgut quieted the pain for a while, as the desert blew sand in the creases in his clothes, in between the gaps in his armor, in his hair, his teeth, the corners of his eyes.
Every time the needling pain came, he’d bite off a snort of whisky, and it seemed to quiet the pain, but eventually the sharp, hot pain of something slithering around in his guts moved to his arms and legs, and then he had to get blindingly, rip-roaringly drunk to kill the pain as the fire seared up his back.
His head had filled with some indescribably sweet song. It called to him, cajoled him, teased him in his troubled nightmares. Still, the alcohol at least kept the dark song at bay.
He slipped one night and took one of them. He knew he shouldn’t have. It was wrong, dammit, wrong. He just couldn’t help himself. When he was drunk again and surprisingly in control of himself, he took care of the problem himself; a dagger in the night and tipping the body into the river where it’d likely be dragged out to sea. He did it himself, bitterly cursing himself.
The second one had been a Carrion Crow. He’d lost himself in that sweet song, and the next thing he knew, squirming things were sliding from his mouth into the surprised maw of the poor bastard that’d happened across his path. It was a bitter relief when Daveth ordered the corpses of the Carrion Crows burned.
The alcohol wasn’t enough. It put them to sleep, but it also weakened his mind, dulled his senses. Left him vulnerable. There wasn’t anything he could do about that, though.
*****
Audra was up and out of her bedroll before everyone else, which was pretty much how she liked it. The other elves that served with the Seventh Seal preferred to keep to themselves in a separate part of the camp, but Audra didn’t have such reservations, laying her bedroll near the wagon train and their fires. The antipathy between elves and humans was deep-rooted and stretched back centuries before the War of Liberation, when many elven nations and tribes fell to the advance of the humans and their prosecution of divinely-mandated genocide. Even now, some two hundred years after the Great War that had freed everyone from the tyranny of false gods, the animosity between elves and humans was a noticeable, palpable thing.
Audra’s mountain town traded regularly with a nearby human village and often worked together to overcome issues that they couldn’t solve on their own, so Audra’s perspectives were different; she never developed any real dislike of humans in general. Further, as a mercenary, she preferred to be treated not as an elf but instead as a soldier. As a soldier there was a certain amount of equality that could be found nowhere else- after all, a soldier was a soldier, regardless of whether they were man or woman, human or elf- and it was in this equality that she flourished.
Sometimes when the weather turned sour she’d lay out her bedroll under a wagon and sleep relatively dry while waiting for it to pass, which was the case this morning as she rolled out of her bedroll. it had rained last night, and the ground was uniformly muddy. Her commander Daveth for some unknowable reason called their supply wagons ‘Tross’, though she couldn’t fathom why, and she wanted to avoid asking if it was something she could figure out for herself. It was a tough enough puzzle; there was an entire world out there that she hadn't seen, except on maps.
Captain Aldric spoke and carried himself like an Anglish noble, though he was often vocal in his condemnation of them. He was extremely good at his job, which implied a military history. Commander Daveth was a mystery. Never in her life had she met a man so obscenely huge. He often spoke in a language that was unfamiliar to her, though that meant little, since the entirety of her knowledge of the world had come from maps and her travels with the Seventh Seal. Jonan, he was an old campaigner, a veteran of several wars. Actual wars, not the battles the Seventh Seal had scrapped in since she’d joined. He was said to be from across the sea. No one could make heads or tails of the Wolf Sisters, though the scuttlebutt on them was that they too had crossed the Mirras Sea in search of battle. Eirawen terrified her. She was a cold, emotionless war machine that didn’t feel pity or remorse or hesitation. She just killed, and she was very, very good at it.
Every morning Audra would spend about an hour running through her combat forms, reacquainting herself with her swords- the weight and movement of each, how her body felt while striking and parrying. Her main skills were that of an archer, but she made sure to not neglect the use of her blades; there were times when there simply wasn’t time to draw and shoot. In Commander Daveth’s hands they looked like oversized daggers, but he was a giant of a man and so it couldn’t be helped.
“Hey, Audra.” a voice hailed her as she spun. She stopped, poised on one foot, and revolved, bringing her leg down gracefully. Jonan was a large man, and he typically wore a suit of mismatched plate. In battle he carried a sword or an axe his hip, a short sword in his shield, and he usually had a knife or two secreted somewhere.
“Jonan.” She returned easily enough, a little irritated that he’d interrupted her forms. “You’re up earlier than usual.” She greeted.
“Eh, no wine last night. Trekking through the woods was commands’ idea, but they’re edgy about doing it, so no sweet booze to keep us warm in the night.” He replied, shrugging unapologetically and she nodded in commiseration.
Today they were marching through a forest that hadn’t been mapped or explored; Someone in the command chain had decided that rather than sticking to the roads, cutting across this unexplored forest on the way to their next job would be quicker. Since she was a scout, it fell to her to make sure they didn’t encounter anything they couldn’t handle. She rolled her eyes at this. Whoever had decided this wasn’t talking. Daveth and Aldric both were pragmatic and reasonable most times and could be counted on to make decisions that weighed best on the side of survivability for the Seal, so who was it?
Jonan gestured at her. “I’ve been thinking that those butterknives might not suit you.” He said by way of conversation and she turned her head a little.
“You ever see someone fight with hatchets?” He asked, and she shook her head. He shrugged. “Well, looking at your combat forms, I think it might be more effective for you to switch.” he held out his hand and gestured for one of her swords. She handed it over willingly enough. He held up the blade and gestured to the first few inches of blade. “You’re only using about this much of your sword as you fight for slashing and cutting, which is fine, but there’s points in your attack that leave you vulnerable. Also, you’re only presenting a small attack profile with the points of your blades. Here, give me a moment and I’ll demonstrate some techniques for you.”
“Why?” She asked curiously. He chuckled. “Why not? Because you saved my ass in the desert. Figure I’ll return the favor.” He returned from his bedroll with a couple of small axes with a slightly curved spike counterbalancing the blade. He twirled them on their handles lightly. “Back where I’m from, the elven rangers tend to use hatchets and axes more than swords because obviously they’re a multipurpose tool, and they’ve turned it into a fighting style that is pretty impressive.”
She blew air out through her nose. From time to time one of the soldiers would solicitously try to proposition her, often using the guise of “teaching her to fight” but really using the opportunity to touch or fondle her. Jonan was different, though. Strictly professional, though he had a love of the roughest, strongest, rawest eye-watering liquor she'd ever tasted. How he could stand the stuff was a mystery to her.
He held the axe out, spike up and blade down. “You’ve got about a foot of metal here that you present from face to spike, and you can use that to post a strike coming at you.” He made a ‘come on’ gesture towards her, and she lunged forward, blade arrowing towards his midsection. He caught her wrist with the side of the hatchet adroitly, shoving her hand away and knocking the blade from her suddenly numbed fingers.
“You can puncture with the spike, slash or chop with the blade, hook with the beard, and parry with the cross- each of these movements cycling as quick as you can move.” he lectured as he went through some basic movements, demonstrating. He moved similar to how she typically fought, through with some allowances made for the kind of weapon he was holding.
“You typically go for cuts and slashes to arms and legs and then you give a finishing blow when the opponent is down.” He observed. “It’s the same thing here. You’re chopping at hands and elbows, thighs and knees. You’re hooking the enemy’s weapon and moving the target to where you want him.” He demonstrated, hooking the beard of his hatchet on her shoulder and pulling her to the side, where his opportunistic foot caused her to stumble.
“See?” He asked, dropping one of the hatchets. He moved to offer her a hand up which she would have accepted, but he stepped back.
"Sorry... sorry." He rasped in his old man's voice. "Been a touch sick. The mountain air, I 'spect. Don't want to get you sick too, you're a scout, and that's important. can't have you catchin'." He warded her off a bit. "But getting back to it, it’s not much different from your current fighting technique, and it might give you an added edge.” He said, and offered her the other hatchet, handle first. “Give it a try, and I’ll show you what I know.”
She took up the hatchet and swung it a few times experimentally. The handle was counterbalanced, but the head was still heavy in her hand. Observing this, he nodded. “You don’t want large heavy overhand swings because they’re tough to recover from, no matter how strong you are- well, unless you’re going to deathblow.” he instructed as they began sparring. “Short movements, like hooking, cutting, pushing, and short chops will be a more effective use.” He smiled. “you can use the sword in your offhand to thrust or parry while you’re using the hatchet to strike at the neck or chop at the elbow.” He rolled his shoulders. “You’re pretty much good from there, since your attack style is very similar.” He glanced off to the side. “Morning, Commander.”
“Is that what this is?” A man rumbled behind her, and Audra turned, irritated.
Audra usually had a sense of herself and her surroundings, an awareness of what was going on around her that kept people and events from catching her off guard from surprise, with the exception of one person: Commander Daveth. What made it most irritating for her is that he was so huge there should be no way at all that she could miss his approach, but still, there it was.
Daveth ran a hand down his face. “I dunno what this is, but it can’t possibly be morning.” He grumbled. He glanced at her. “You’re scouting today. You’ve got two hours. If we’re lucky, that’ll be enough time to rouse this lot and get them ready to be underway.” Audra nodded up at him.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
“Don’t lose track of time picking berries.” He admonished and she grinned up at him impudently and gave him a snappy salute. Daveth let out a sigh and thumped the side of one of the supply wagons. “Up and at ‘em!” He yelled.
*****
Audra set off into the forest, drawing a map in her mind of places where they could take the supply trains, places that would likely bog them down, following the curves and contours of the land. This part of the forest wandered through some low but rocky hills and short cliffsides and was mostly comprised of firs and pines.
She trotted through stands of firs and pines, aromatic cedars and redwoods, never stopping too long in one place as she began developing a map of the local area, charting several possible paths through the forests. From time to time she spotted herds of deer, chattering squirrels and caught the musk of skunks in the area. She was raised in forests like this. There were few predators that she needed to be wary of- wolves and bears, mostly. Occasionally in higher elevations there would be mountain cats, but in these forests, a cat wasn’t likely to be a threat. in these woods, it was far more likely that she would encounter a community of beastmen or mutants than she would have to face down a bear or a pack of wolves.
She topped a short broken rise and mapped with her eyes a series of short broad paths her army could take. There was a small lake a few miles distant; she could reach it easily within the time allotted and make it back, though it would be cutting it close. Plus, the return trip could be slower as portion of her travel would be up this slope.
She squinted, eyes narrowing. There was a thin streak of smoke rising near the lake. Fire, regardless of whether it was manmade or if it was started naturally was a point of concern for the elf. The army prided itself on how quickly it could move from one theater to the next, and as there was literally no way for them to move through this forest without marching past the lake, they would encounter the fire (and whomever owned it) within several hours. She sighed, and withdrew a small piece of antler.
*****
Closing her eyes, she summoned her miniscule talent for magic and sent it into the fragment of antler. As she suspected, there were nearby deer. If she was lucky, there would be a buck large enough to carry her down there and back again.
Most animals did not have thoughts, feelings, or even memories analogous to a human equivalent which made communication in the typical sense impossible. There were entire parts of their minds and memories that were locked away, slaved to the strange, incomprehensible tides and pulls of the seasons. When a season began to change, one part of their mind sublimated into the new and the beast would behave differently. Instinct and experience would blend into a strange canvas of behavior that was incomprehensible to anything that wasn’t attuned to these experiences.
Audra was a ranger of the forest, fulfilling the role of hunter, tracker, survivalist but also taking on the role of druid, a balancing force that worked both in tune with and in opposition to nature, ensuring that the forests around her village were balanced, that predators didn’t flourish excessively, that the animals that were prey didn’t breed excessively and tip the balance the other way. As such she had the ability to gain insights from these contacts with the animals of the forests and she was able to make her intents plain.
The buck refused. The herd was here, not there, and so it did not want to leave the safety and sanctuary of the herd. It didn’t like the idea of approaching an elf, either. There was an aversion of the two-legs that spoke of predations. It didn’t like the idea of carrying anything on its back, either.
Time was wasting. Audra’s requests became more firm, more insistent, and then something seemed to give way with the consistency of rotted cloth tearing. She opened her eyes, feeling drained, exhausted as her magical ability was stretched to the breaking point. The buck stood in front of her, vaguely glancing about itself, glassy-eyed. A pile of droppings lay behind it. Audra turned her head, a spike of pain lancing through her heart. She’d destroyed its will with her insistence. She hadn’t meant to do it, but she was running out of time and her skill wasn’t perfect. The more advanced rangers of the forests could borrow the use of animals for a brief time with the understanding that they would be released and free to return to their herds and lives. This one could do so no longer. It would follow her blindly uncaring about itself or its surroundings.
She pulled out a simple clay cup, added water and an herbal powder and downed the mixture quickly. The drink was supposed to aid in the recuperation of magical stamina, and indeed, Audra was beginning to feel her power restore. She reached out to the buck, and gave it simple instructions. Audra mounted the beast and directed it to take her down the slope.
*****
Touching the remains of the beasts’ mind as she was, she could feel the instinctive urge to flee at the scent of fire; something the deer could smell but Audra couldn’t. She’d seen the smoke; the deer had smelled it, traces in the air from when the smoke had blown this way. As she neared the lake, the deer’s aversion became stronger; two legs had preyed on the herd here. Still, she pressed on. The impetus was there for the deer to bolt; the capability to do so had been destroyed by Audra’s incompetence.
There was a sound of footsteps approaching; something that moved on two feet. A bit further behind was the sound of something much larger that moved about on four legs.
“These lands are not your lands, Elf.” A strong female voice called out, and Audra glanced about, trying to locate the source. Standing in tall grass as she was, it was difficult for her to see.
“I know.” Audra replied companionably enough. “My village is at least a fifty day journey northwest of here.”
There was a burst of laughter at that. Audra couldn’t see who it was that spoke to her, so she dismounted and willed the deer to move back.
“I would hate to have to kill you, Elf.” The woman’s voice was closer now, to the right. “Elf meat is unpalatable and your blood bitter. Will you leave peacefully?”
“I’m intruding on your territory?” Audra asked, and she could spy a woman off to the right, who nodded.
“These are the lands of the Kin, and we do not take well to outsiders.”
Audra pushed her way through the tall grass and her eyebrows rose at the sight of the woman.
*****
The woman was clearly of beastman stock. She had large, furry animal ears and a thick wolfen tail. Her forearms were fringed with a thick gray fur, and her hands carried yellowed claws. Behind her a mammoth wolf, easily as tall at the shoulder as her commander, who was nearly a giant.
The woman eyed Audra’s bow. “Raise that bow to me and you will not survive, unpalatable meat or no.”
“Are you capable of speaking for your clan, tribe, village or whatever?” Audra spoke up, interrupting the woman, who recoiled a little.
“Huh?” The woman replied querulously, revealing brutal fangs.
“It was a question. Can you speak on behalf of your... Kin, was it?” She asked, and the woman cocked her head curiously at her.
“Why, little elf?” The woman replied after a moment.
“Because the army I serve in will be passing over the rise back there” She jerked her thumb at the rise she’d ridden down a short time back, “within an hour or so.” Audra bluffed.
The woman’s eyes narrowed. “You lie. Armies stick to roads.” She replied.
Audra shrugged. “Tell that to my commander.” She replied grumpily, and the woman laughed.
“You wish to strike a bargain.” The woman stated, and Audra nodded.
The wolf wuffed behind the woman, and the woman nodded again.
“Safe passage at the very least. We’re heading north and have no need of these lands except as a shortcut to the northern roads. I imagine they’d like the right to refill the water barrels at your lake there... and if you’re amenable, trade.” Audra stated simply.
The woman glanced at the wolf, who seemed to stare back impassively. The woman turned back to Audra. “Bring your commander, whomever they may be. We will see if we can treat.” Audra nodded.
“Is the deer yours?” The woman suddenly asked, curious. “Could you give him to us?”
“Actually, I was going to ride him back up to my army’s camp.” Audra replied, and the woman nodded and the massive wolf huffed again.
“A pity. Off with you, then.” She said and flapped her hand dismissively.
*****
“Well Commander, Captain, I’ve found a route that looks to take us more or less through to the northern roads... unfortunately it takes us right near a beastman enclave.” Audra said by way of greeting as she accosted Aldric and Daveth at the picket lines.
“Well that’s not good.” Aldric replied disinterestedly, adjusting the saddle on his horse. Daveth nodded.
“They attack you?” Daveth asked as he shrugged into his leather duster, large enough to make a single-man tent with.
“They warned me off, but I told them that the army would pass by. They’re willing to treat with us for safe passage.”
Aldric sighed. “Treat with beastmen?” Aldric replied and glanced at Daveth. “She expects us to treat with beastmen, Daveth.”
“I guess she does.” Daveth replied blandly. “Did you get a look at their camp?” he asked. She shook her head.
“A shame. If it’s a small camp they’ll likely give us no trouble when they see the size of our army compared against their village. If they’re our size or bigger then we’d best pray that they don’t have steel.”
“You’re going to kill them?” Audra asked. Daveth shrugged.
“Doesn’t matter to me one way or the other. Did you make them any promises?”
Audra shrugged, and then shook her head. “I did sort of imply that you had no interest in them and that you were more concerned with reaching the Northern Road, that you would be willing to treat for safe passage.”
Daveth snorted. “Okay.” He rolled his eyes at Aldric, who shrugged and spread his hands blandly.
“What kind of beastman were they? Goat?” Daveth asked. “I hate goats. Assholes, every one of ‘em.”
Aldric laughed lightly. “Only thing on this world that is more stubborn than you, my dear friend.”
“Wolf-type.” Audra replied, eyeing the two of them warily. Aldric was often fond of saying “don’t trouble trouble unless trouble troubles you” which to Audra meant that they shouldn’t seek out unnecessary fights.
“One of them was at least as big as you, Lord Commander.” She added, and Daveth nodded. He reached out a fist towards Aldric who sighed and tapped Daveth’s mammoth fist with his own.
“What is this?” Audra asked, concerned.
“North of here is Landeck.” Aldric began. “Sort of part of the Duchy of Nauders, except that the Landeckers don’t think they are, and the people of Nauders refuse to think they are. The official borders include Landeck in the Nauders province, however, so you can make of that what you will.”
Audra shook her head, mystified. “I’m afraid I don’t follow you, Captain.”
“Landeck asked us to dispose of a wolf-beastman tribe that has been harassing their farmers. They paid us in advance, too.” Daveth said, explaining.
“Can’t forget that.” Aldric added sagely, nodding.
"Money's important." Daveth agreed solemnly, and then turned back to Audra. “At least one of them was a gigantic wolf.” Daveth added. “So there’s that too. The only reason we came to this neck of the woods was to find them and kill them; elsewise we’d’ve taken the roads.”
Audra sighed at this. Daveth smiled down at her. “Don’t worry, we’ll treat with them. But we’ve also got a mission to do.”
Aldric glanced at Audra’s face. “You have a problem with this, Scout?” He asked, and she shrugged and shook her head. “No, not particularly.” Daveth nodded, and so did Aldric.
“Good. We’ll see if we can get them to leave peaceably, first. No need to kick the beehive if we can avoid it. But make no mistake: if they don’t leave, there will be no quarter for those beastmen.” Aldric warned, and Audra nodded.
“Tell the men, Daveth.” Aldric ordered, and swung into his saddle. “We’ve got shit to do and not a lot of time to do it.”